When my life overwhelms me – which, as an introverted entrepreneur and mother, is often – I try to escape to the one place that I know no one will speak to me, The Korean Day Spa. I spend the entire day there, soaking, steaming, sweating, and watching the glorious variety of women move through this sacred space as the holy bodies that they are. Everyone is naked, as mandated by the spa itself. They come in all shapes, sizes, colors, styles, and when surrounded by them I truly feel as if I am part of something, some magic thing that needs no words or creed. The mere fact of our nipples and wrinkles and bulges, and the fact that we all look ridiculously bad in the little shower caps the spa makes us wear, is enough to refill my soul. If I were the platitude sort, some part of me would probably start singing, “I am woman, hear me roar,” but the rest of me would be all like “shut up, bitch,” and I would return to the silence that I so crave.

The...