I love to swim in the ocean where there is a big beach with lots of people. I feel like people don’t really see me there, and I can hide in the water.  But I hate public pools with clear water and public dressing rooms.  I, too, had a double mastectomy when I was 32 (with reconstruction) but my one arm became all swollen after they took the lymph glands and I can’t hide that part of me.  I feel like a freak of nature.  I am so jealous of other women even the ones that don’t think they  look good.  I think they should be happy they have all their own parts and that they are basically symmetrical.

Loved the essay.  I especially like the description of the attendant/bellhop as a "New Age brown shirt."  I have never been able to put into words how I feel about this kind of moral elitism, but your decription of this unnamed retreat reminds me of that skin crawling quality inherent to some dystopian literature, where everything is fine on the surface, but you stand the chance of mysteriously disappearing in the middle of the night if you give even the slightest appearance of not being a good cult member.  I am thinking of "The Giver." 

So what exactly is the draw of this ecologically correct hotel? It sounds uncomfortable and depressing.  I can think of better places for a roll in the hay and for less money.