I woke up to bright sunshine filling the sky. I asked my husband, “Shall we go swimming today?” At first, he said he had many things to do. Then, as though the day itself had made up its mind, he came back to me and said, “Let’s go swim.” Without that small shift, none of what followed would have happened.
So we packed our things. Just as we were about to leave the house, we noticed our neighbor in his backyard. My husband told me to bring the small cake we had prepared for him as a gift. I rushed back inside, grabbed it, and we walked over to give it to him. I said, “Happy New Year,” and my husband said, “Happy Epiphany Day.”
I asked, “Epiphany? What’s that?”
My husband explained that it’s the day Jesus Christ was born and the three kings brought gifts to him. As he handed the cake to our neighbor, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was a coincidence.
We talked for a bit and then headed toward the sea on foot. Along the way, we saw a muscular man walking in the opposite direction carrying a towel, so I assumed he had just finished swimming.
When we reached the spot where I had swum before, I showed it to my husband. He asked, “Is this the place where you swam naked last time?”
I said yes. I told him I hadn’t planned it — the water had been so inviting that day.
“And where that creepy man talked to you?”
“Yes,” I replied. I told him I had already been covered then.
“You have to shout if it ever happens again,” my husband said. He was frustrated by how some people disrespect boundaries.
I wish I had. But at that time, I was too scared.
After we changed, just before we entered the water, the man we had seen earlier suddenly walked toward us and stood very close. The spot was tiny, hidden between rocks, almost like a small room. Even though it was a public place, it felt uncomfortable.
He tried to say something to me. I couldn’t understand at first. Then he kept repeating, “It’s a nude beach here. It’s a nude beach.”
I said, “What? Nude beach?”
He told us that if we wanted to swim, we had to go somewhere else. His tone was unfriendly.
Something stirred in me, and it had nothing to do with whether it was a nude beach or not.
Honestly, I don’t mind people swimming naked — I like that freedom too. But freedom doesn’t mean controlling others or claiming space as your own.
I raised my voice and responded to the fully grown man standing half naked nearby.
“We were here before you, and you have no right to tell us to leave.”
He became angry and walked away.
I went into the water. The cold January sea didn’t bother me because I felt proud of myself. For the first time, there was no confusion about whether I was allowed to be there.
After we came out of the water, we talked about Epiphany again. My husband told me that in Orthodox tradition, especially in Cyprus, it is also the day celebrating the baptism of Jesus Christ. I was amazed — we had just gone deep into the sea on that very day. The cold still lingered on my skin, pulsing with every breath.
Overcoming the guilt of simply existing made me feel reborn, like a baptism. And that day, my body was beating with life, releasing the first blood of my period.