Let’s talk about the N-word.
Or should that be the n-words. Nude. Naked. Naturist. Nudism. Naturism. Nudist. (in the) Nuddy.
I think I was born inclined towards nudity, then again aren’t we all?
Maybe then it would be more correct to say that it was never really “educated” out of me. I would increasingly grow to hate clothing and would wear as few, loose items as possible whenever possible.
Getting nude in the local forest and during an entire month each year when looking after my grandparent’s home (when they went away) were sanity patches for me.
When I left the UK, getting nude became more difficult and even potentially dangerous.
So I tried to forget about it, but my clothed frustrations along with stress at work and lack of natural places to visit left me in a very bad place.
A change of jobs and locations allowed me access to nature but it wouldn’t be until arriving in East Java, Indonesia that I would fully be free to be nude and rediscover the joys of it in a very spiritual way.
Jolotundo Temple was a surprise for me. Knowing I was staying at an eco-centre with a planned trip to a local temple was as much as I knew. To then discover it was a bathing temple where the old religious ways of nude bathing had survived, was a huge surprise in a strictly anti-nude muslim nation.
The thing is, all manner of men would bathe nude there. Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu, whatever. I can’t say if the same liberations were true for the women, being sent to a second-separate baths at the other end of the temple.
When I first arrived I felt nervous, but was reassured by my guide, and so I took the plunge and was immediately set free from my own self-imposed body consciousness, from the stress of a difficult few years and from years of being forced to wrap up.
I was a fully fledged nudey once more.
I spent many trips, times and hours at the temple and got to meet a lot of interesting people. Hanging out on the jungled slopes of a mountain without much care or concern about not having any clothes on. I would even hike nude, to which the local farmers only commented ‘it’s normal’.
Well, I would not let modern society shame me anymore. I would seek out opportunities to do the most natural thing wherever I went. I made lots of new friends both local and global and felt the most peace I’d ever known.
I’ve not so much forgotten that, but threats about losing a job and petty minded people meant I have taken a break. That break has gone on far too long, sadly I cannot now recover the many photos, videos and articles I published about naturism or nudism.
But, I do not like regrets. I know my blog helped many people and still remember their thanks and comments. I do not intend to get so involved in the political and social arguments of naturism/nudism this time. Yet, I will also not hide the fact that I enjoy being nude. This time I will just do, and hope that my doing is enough to spread the word that nudity is neither shameful nor sexual.
A photo of me (first on the blog). Sadly, I’ve lost the original and copied this from our TrueNudists profile. The same picture was included in one of BOP Naturist’s newsletters, along with my review of the nude beach resort we stayed on in Thailand, which sadly seems to have closed.
So what next?
With the warmer weather and a desire to remember and re-embrace meditation and naturism, and also to improve my personal body image and acceptance. I have decided to create a partly sheltered spot on our terrace.
Somewhere to have a shower, sunbathe and chill in my birthday suit. This isn’t going to be some impenetrable wall or screen, more of a symbolic attempt to send a message to the neighbours. Something along the lines of ‘Don’t look and if you do, don’t complain!’.