I’m Not Really a Nudist

“I like being naked at home, but I’m not really a nudist,” is something I hear surprisingly often. It’s also something I said about myself for a long time before finally trying social nudism for myself. I considered myself something of a situational, or opportunist nudist.

I’ve long found lounging at home naked to be relaxing and natural, but didn’t think it qualified me as a “nudist.” That’s for the crazy people who never wear clothes and live on hippie communes (is that even a thing anymore?), right? Even now I'd say I’m more of a naked at home, or naked camping or swimming in the wilderness, or perhaps I'm overly willing to get naked or as close to it as possible while at an underwear or ABC party. Coming to use the label was something I didn't do until a few years ago after I intentionally booked a vacation to Zipolite where the whole goal was "be as naked as possible for as long as possible." And I booked it because it scared the crap out of me.

I grew up in a home where nudity was never allowed outside of the bath/shower and I couldn't say that I've ever seen anyone in my family naked at all. I was also very afraid of anyone ever seeing me naked because I'm uncut and I pieced together from elementary school history classes, and how the other boys reacted to the Greek and Roman art, that I was probably the only one and I’d be mercilessly teased for it if anyone ever found out. You’d be surprised, or maybe not if you’re here reading this, at how fast the insecurities about our bodies are introduced into our lives and how long we hold onto them.

I like to push myself out of my comfort zone every once and a while and despite my home nudity, and a few visits to a K Spa when I lived in Los Angeles, I was still pretty insecure about being seen naked outside of a sexual situation. During a hookup the person is already attracted to you, so in my head they are less likely to be looking at you and seeing your flaws and even if they did it was just for the night so it doesn't matter much. In a relationship (a healthy one), we don't tend to nit-pick the details of our partners bodies the same way we do our own. But strangers seeing you naked… well, they have no connection to you at all that would cause them to overlook a few pounds extra around the mid section or whatever else. Or so I thought.

What I took home from my trip that year was a lot more confidence in my own body and a realization that, yes, maybe other people will look at your naked body and make a judgement about it but ultimately it didn't matter at all, and, more often than not, people were too busy either minding their own business or fighting their own insecurity to take the time to form a real opinion about my body to begin with.

Nudism is something that can be deeply personal and solitary if you want it to be, or you can allow yourself to experience the vulnerability and liberation of trying it out with others. Society has built up this wall around it like it’s somehow embarrassing, wrong, dangerous, or harmful to just be naked, but once you can get past that wall there’s a sense of no longer hiding, of letting go of a lot of the insecurities we all have about our bodies and just being.

“I’m too fat/skinny/pale/freckled/,” or (and especially) “My dick is too small, or it’s cut/uncut, or it’s darker than the rest of my body.” All the stuff we build up in our heads as being embarrassing flaws. They become a lot easier to face, let go of, or even embrace when you see lots of naked people and realize how true it is that we come in all shapes and sizes.

I chose to start using the label because I felt like I got something out of it and I wanted to embrace it, but I didn’t have to. I could have easily kept on doing what I was doing and just been thankful for the experience. 

Since using the label I’ve really come to see that nudists are just normal people who, at times, enjoy doing some of the stuff we would normally be doing anyways but doing it while naked. Swimming at the pool, socializing with friends over a cocktail, hiking, playing board games, etc., there’s nothing that nudists are -doing- that makes them a nudist other than doing things (anything) while naked. So why can’t you be a nudist? You don’t have to leave your house to be one. You don’t even have to tell anyone (assuming you live alone). You never even have to claim the label for yourself, but I think if you did you’d be surprised at how nice it is and how fast it becomes kind of benign in a way.

Another thing I hear a lot, and have experienced to some degree, is how meeting people and talking to them is surprisingly easy when everyone is naked. There seem to be fewer hangups getting in the way of getting to know someone even if only in passing. People in nude places tend to be more polite, and, surprisingly, less guarded in my experience. Perhaps it’s because being brave enough to try it forces you to reckon with your own insecurities? I’m not sure.

I’m not saying it’s for everybody but I am saying I think we’d all benefit from a healthy reevaluation of the way we think about our own and other peoples’ bodies.