Is There a Defined Etiquette in Nudity?

01/28/2015

I’m sure there must be written text on nude etiquette somewhere, defining what is considered proper or improper behavior in a nudist/naturist environment. At this point, I have not truly sought out any other resources for determining if this is the case (though I’m sure I will after this). I had this question first come to mind, as a result of a conversation I had with a family member. Now this discussion was brought about as we were discussing my previous blog (Why Be a Nudist) and this is the same family member who thought I hadn’t defined my stand as a nudist by explaining it with words such as “liberty” and “freedom” in my statements. She mentioned she’d read my blog and identified herself in my comments. As we discussed the matter further, she said she had another thought which arose to mind after having read it (though she wanted to give this advice in deference to my position). I previously wrote “nudists are not looking at others nude bodies” and also stated “many people have scars, rolls of fat, are skinny as a rail, have no breasts, saggy breasts, and are of various complexions; we come in all colors, shapes and sizes”. Her response to my statements was… “How can you say nudists do not notice all the imperfections stated, if you haven’t looked at them in the first place? How do you not notice?” Though I tried to explain that we aren’t blind, and of course we can see, it’s just a matter of not taking into account what happened to come across our field of vision.  Try as I might to impress upon her the fact that people generally don’t go into nudism for the reasons assumed by her comments and that being nude isn’t about the ability to look at other’s naked bodies, instead it’s about how it makes us feel individually, yet still she maintained her position. She responded with stating “she just wanted to prepare me for the person who will one day ask this question”.

Now, my response to her query, has mulled around in my mind for several days. How can one emphasize the basic principles of nudity without bringing it down to sexuality? Finally, I settled upon this as the theory which would clarify our position. Basically, in the simplest of explanations, I believe it falls into the realm of what I would call etiquette… nude etiquette.

I theorize there is an unspoken etiquette to nudism. My belief, the basis of nude etiquette is arrived at via an individual’s reasoning behind nudity. I believe someone who is a nudist at heart, is simply a person who enjoys the freedom of being naked. More than that, it is relishing being unclothed in social situations and delighting in the sensation of it being natural. I have faith that individuals I meet go into nudism not to be voyeurs or predators, but because they have an innate desire to experience the freedom that is achieved through nudity. Call me naïve if you will, but this was our reason for becoming nudists so why should we consider ourselves as unique as to be the only ones to do so?

Most of my life, I have had image problems. I felt insecure about my size, my clothing, my choice of fashion style, color or coordination. I’ve been apprehensive about the outfit I chose to wear to a party or work (and going back even further in time, school). I have experienced the anxiety of walking into a room and feeling eyes upon me, checking out everything about my choice of attire, unsure if the looks were of approval or disapproval. I know I am not alone in the discomfort I am describing. I believe most of us have faced this situation at one time or another (I’m not sure if men participate in this form of self-torture, but most of us women do), and when we discovered social nudism I appreciated the sense of liberation I gained from this sensation of insecurity and vulnerability.

Since becoming a nudist, I have never experienced the situation of entering a room or area where other nudists are gathered, and have all eyes fall upon my body to check it out. Their eyes are always on mine, greeting me with a smile because they are happy to see me, showing appreciation for me, not my apparel. I have found nudists are quite comfortable with eye contact, something you can’t say about people in the textile world. I have only met with approval and respect as a nudist and I have not met one person who has been disrespectful in speech, manner or attitude.

The acceptance I feel when I encounter other nudists is incredible and I assume each individual we’ve met appreciates the same thing. We entered nudity to be free of the conditions which led us into judgment over our attire and appearance and I have confidence in the belief nudists embrace this standard as naturally as they embrace their liberty. I don’t believe any of us entered this lifestyle to present an opportunity for “getting an eyeful”.

Human nature dictates that there is always an exception to every rule however. I suppose there will at times be one who falls through the cracks. These are individuals who may think they’ve found an opportunity to achieve some of their sexual fantasies by taking advantage of the pleasure we innocently pursue. If that is their purpose, they will be found out and they will soon become outcasts. I don’t waste my energy worrying about the character of other people however. If that is their objective, it’s their bad, not mine. People who have ulterior motives will not prevent my husband and I from enjoying the life of a nudist, nor our friends.

Before ending this post, I feel drawn to pose this question… As a decent human individual, do you appreciate having your breasts or genitals ogled when meeting someone, whether clothed or unclothed? Simple social etiquette dictates this as improper behavior. On many occasions while fully dressed I have encountered men looking at my breasts when wearing a blouse with a low neckline. The old adage used by women… “My eyes are up here” has entered my mind more than a few times and if I’d had the courage to state would have been aptly appropriate. Again, as a nudist I have never experienced this at any nude venue. If you have entered nudism to escape the bondage of the textile world, why would you hinder yourself by holding on to the stigmas which are connected with it? I have come to the conclusion that the unwritten or unspoken etiquette of nudity is arrived at by treating others the way you want to be treated. It’s only common sense, treat each person with the respect you hope or expect to receive.

As I mentioned at the beginning of this entry, I said I would probably seek other references. I did so upon reaching the end of this writing, I Googled, “Nudist etiquette” and found many interesting and informative articles. Each contains an array of basic etiquettes which should be observed, with lists of do’s and don’ts toward behavior in nudity. My writings however were achieved simply from my own observance and perspective.

AZNudistCouple

What Type of Person Becomes a Nudist?

1/19/2015

I pose this question because I believe a great percentage of non-nudists ask themselves this very question on the topic of nudity. I think they must query, why? Other ponderings probably center upon their careers, ethnicities, age, religion, and forgive me if I offend anyone with this… their psychological stability. To clarify a little, I’m saying I question if textile individuals not only wonder why, but also, do they judge nudists as a bunch of weirdo’s or deemed poor, illiterate, low class, non-professional losers possibly? Is this the impression they have or do they have any expectations regarding who or what type of individual might be a nudist?

Never once in all my years did I consciously consider these ponderings. My contemplation arose from events I’ve encountered recently as I began sharing our lifestyle in nudity with a few friends and family members. After leaving the conversation I found myself wondering what their true feelings were regarding my confessions. The customary response has usually been, “Wow, that’s really great”, or “You’re so brave, I could never do that”. Though their reactions sounded positive, I’m left feeling a nagging sensation that seems to weigh heavily within my chest, resulting in a sense of imposed judgment or disapproval. It’s truly bothered me because I don’t want to believe those I feel close enough to confide in would be insincere or dishonest with me. It bothered me in a way which made me regret sharing; I had to get to the bottom of what was causing this impression.

I don’t believe my thoughts ever pondered the, who, what or why of nudity for the greatest part of my life (now it’s practically foremost in them), but previously, on the few occasions nudity was mentioned (by friends or relatives) I can tell you the conversation didn’t speak favorably of those who lived the life of a nudist. On the rare opportunity discussions turned toward someone who was a nudist, they were usually spoken of as a depraved individual, or as a strange, twisted type of person, one of bad breeding, or someone who was unstable of mind; either way they were someone you didn’t want to become friendly or very well acquainted with. Of course, the exception to this rule was voiced through my father’s statement which always completed any discussion pertaining to nudists… “There is nothing dirty about the human body; it’s the mind that makes it so.”

I can’t say I ever associated a positive image with anyone who engaged in the nude lifestyle due to the above influences. Yet on the other hand, I don’t think I permanently attached a stigma with them either. I believe I simply tried to keep neutral in my thoughts about nudity since my father’s ending statement always seemed to warn against thinking negatively about them, (as though it made me one who possessed the dirty mind to think the thoughts) or use the damaging declarations others were using to distinguish their character.

Aha! That’s why… My feelings of disapproval with my nude lifestyle from those I love come from impressions I absorbed through my childhood. I had been almost embarrassed to tell them, not for the reason of shame over what I was doing, but because in my mind I cringed with the implications overheard through those whose approval I cared about as a child.

I suppose I found resolution by recalling past remembrances from my youth which carried negative connotations associated with nudists. I must admit, it came as a surprise to me when I realized I’d carried the memories of past conclusions expressed by others forward to the point I felt a haunting sense of disapproval in my revelations due to them. I like to imagine we are living in a more tolerant time than that of my youth, not so closed minded and hurtful. I’d like to help all individuals gain acceptance and understanding for nudists. I hope my words written as my own form of therapy will help others understand as I give explanation with the following.

Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief… doctor, lawyer, indian chief. This was a little chant we used while jumping rope as a child. As an adult, this little childhood rhyme has returned to my memory as I was seeking an appropriate way to describe the walks of life one might find a nudist in. I’ve found no barriers (except close mindedness) which prevent any individuals from enjoying social nudity. You don’t have to be any or all of the above in order to participate in nudity. We come in all forms, all races, religions, sexual orientation and a great variety of professions.

I have met people who could be any of the above but when they’re nude, it’s truly difficult to pin any of these tags to them (literally as well as figuratively). When we are clothed, I feel as though we are in costume, acting out our part in a play. We are playing the character defined by our layers of clothing. The clothes label a person, causing them to hide behind a façade which they think distinguishes their status or who they are. When the clothes are stripped away the veneer is removed as well and we’re able to see others for who they really are. I feel the judgment has been removed, there is no pretense and the beauty from within is what seems to shine through. So why are people so bound to the material that forces them to constantly be on stage, performing endlessly for the textile world?

When a baby is born, it’s born without clothing. Their little bodies are so perfect and precious, and though they cry when they are exposed to the cool air that accosts them once they have been removed from their mother’s womb, they would much prefer to be naked, flesh to flesh with their mother than clothed. I worked in a birthing unit for 10 years and never found one baby who enjoyed being dressed. They get angry and turn red all over, shuddering and quivering, but are comforted once returned to the skin to skin security of their bodies touching their mother’s while held in her arms. There is nothing dirty or perverted about this scenario; it’s beautiful, natural, and spiritual.

When a young child runs around a sprinkler in the summer with nothing on, or plays in the water at a lake or beach as such, it is innocent and inherently beautiful. The phrase “childlike” comes to mind, because when using this expression we think of a natural beauty that is innocent and free of guile.

When does this stop? When do our bodies stop being beautiful, innocent, free of guile? Why, when we become young adolescents and adults are our naked bodies no longer allowed to be free and beautiful?

When I am naked, I feel childlike. It’s the closest thing to being born again, both metaphorically and spiritually. When in a social situation with other nudists I feel as though we all come to life as we engage in stimulating conversation (not stimulating sex as most seem to imagine). I am enthused as I sense the invigoration exuding from those around me. It is an exhilarating experience as the enthusiasm of youth seems to have been set free in each of us.

We are all childlike, for there is nothing nasty or dirty in our nudity. We are beautifully created in God’s image and it is only in the closed minds and perverted thoughts that are carried by others that make it dirty or shameful.

Socially, I feel no different (better or worse) from any other individual I meet in social nudism. We are rich and poor; we’re doctors, lawyers, and indian chiefs. We come from every walk of life and unless someone asks, we rarely know what individuals do for a living. That is not who we are, it’s just what we do to support ourselves. Who we are, are nudists, people who feel exquisite when we are able to free ourselves from the bondage of clothing and share the joy we experience with others who identify with us jubilantly.

 AZNudistCouple

My Own Personal Practicality in Nudity

01/12/2015

When asked by friends why I chose to be a nudist, I usually respond with a statement which includes something about loving the feeling of liberty and freedom. But honestly, I have a couple of personal reasons explaining why I prefer to be naked. To me my motives fall on the very practical side of nudity (which I’ve never really mentioned to others), simply put, its temperature control and my own personal comfort level that moves me toward nudity. This motivation is probably one of the most logical of reasons in my mind (though I’m afraid, after you finish reading this you’ll all determine I’m extremely neurotic in ways I hate to admit).

I guess I’ll start out with addressing the temperature control issue first. Though some might say I should just deal with it and many may not agree, possibly even question my judgment on my choice of location in which I live. You see, I live in Arizona and we have triple digit temperatures a good part of the year, for me to go without clothing appeals to me on a level I view as quite sensible and provides an entirely different variation of comfort for me. But also, there is so much more involved in my reasons than that.

Many days are “hot, hot, hot,” in the southwest. Though we have an air conditioning system in our home and it is extremely efficient, I do try to keep the house at a reasonable temperature level (the electricity bill in summer months can be pretty expensive). It’s a factor I hadn’t brought into the equation previously, but when I must wear my clothing in situations no matter how great or miniscule the activity, I feel as though I’m going to explode. Let me site some examples… If I’m rushing around at work or just sitting at my desk, or I’m at someone else’s home if they don’t keep their air cool enough, whether I’m active in any way, or even if I’m sitting watching the television, it’s whatever ( and I’m getting tense just writing about these things). When I become overheated, it truly sends me over the edge in a way which causes me to have to fight every instinct within me to prevent a meltdown (no pun intended).

Take today for example… I was preparing our Thanksgiving Day dinner and of course our oven was going at 350 degrees or higher for several hours (even though my husband smoked our turkey outside in his smoker… and boy did he look cute doing so completely naked). I am your typical over doer during holidays, trying to insure everyone has their favorite dish and dessert. And then of course there is the cleaning of the house and the washing and wiping while cooking which goes hand in hand with holiday preparations. Needless to say, throughout the day I was rushing about cleaning, stirring, sifting, shaking (and any other descriptive word you can think of to bring the picture to mind of my days activities). Now we didn’t have your normal Thanksgiving Day weather that comes to mind when one thinks of this holiday. Oh no, we had no frost on the ground, or snow in the air, no biting wind blowing about either.

We had temperatures in the 80’s here. It was yet another lovely sunny day here in Arizona (our weather forecasters have it tough… not!) Don’t get me wrong, I love the weather here. I grew up in New England and suffering through the cold weather eventually drove me to this part of the country (and let me repeat, I do love it). I am very thankful to escape the everyday frigid temperatures of New England’s winter months, especially when I get calls from family back home updating me on how many degrees below zero the thermometer has reached, or how many inches of snow are piling up. I’m sorry, I’m drifting onto other subjects, but I write like I talk. Which means, when I talk about a subject, I feel it necessary to give you the background info that goes along with it in order to help you understand? (This may not appeal to everyone, and to those of you who are bothered by this, I apologize).

The true game changer came when I entered menopause. I moved here before entering this condition, and though I love Arizona’s weather, it became much more extreme for me once it began. A woman in menopause is not a pleasant or pretty sight when she is in the throes of a hot flash (or at least this woman isn’t). Hot flashes are non-discriminating, they come whenever they feel like appearing, and it doesn’t matter how inconvenient the timing, (and they are merciless!). So when I am in the middle of performing practically any type of physical activity, and one appears, the first thing I want to do is rip off every article of clothing to release me from the suffocation I am experiencing (picture a blazing inferno boring a burning hole as it makes its way through to my chest while at the same time a gigantic boa constrictor has wrapped itself around my diaphragm and squeezes continuously… am I being too descriptive?). It feels so intense at times I believe I’ll go mad, I have to use every bit of restraint to make it through those moments when I am in situations where I must wear clothing, and as soon as I am able, the clothing comes off.

I don’t want to make this into a topic about menopause however; I just felt I needed to pinpoint some of the triggering elements for my deep desire to be unclothed.

So now you have all the background information, you also have the additional influences with which I hope brings understanding of what a stress factor this creates with my health, both physically and emotionally. It is at this point I want to bring this topic back around to the example I was speaking of regarding temperature control.

While preparing my Thanksgiving dinner (with all the additional elements I described in great detail involved), I had quickly reached my internal boiling point. In previous years I have been irritable, grouchy, snapped and raised my voice at the loved ones around me due to my irritability. The difference was achieved this year by a couple of saving graces… First, was due to the fact no guests were here yet, and since it was only the two of us, I was able to strip down to nothing but an apron (had to protect the tender areas while cooking) once I realized I was feeling hot and uncomfortable. Second, my husband was able to do the same. We performed all of the stress inducing activities without our clothing and thus created a tension free environment for both of us. When our guests arrived, (we were able to dress shortly before the appointed time) they found us in great spirits, relaxed and ready to enjoy the holiday.

The second practical point for me towards nudity is that I have always had issues with the way clothing feels on my body. I have continuously been bothered by textures in clothing. I’ve also been disturbed by the feeling of being bound when donning any type of garb which feels tight or layered. So anything that feels tight or binding, itchy, prickly, rough, or has scratchy things in them, (i.e. tags, seams, hooks, zippers, threads, sequins…) to name a few, makes me more than uncomfortable. When I say more than uncomfortable, I mean overboard, bordering unstable type of concerns with this discomfort. So again, I’ll add to my story by giving examples in my drifty sort of way.

As mentioned previously, I grew up in New England. I hated living in New England because during winter months I had to wear layers of clothing to try to keep warm (I was always cold and suffered intolerably through the 9 months of frigid weather). I didn’t want to go outside because of my aversion to cold but yet fun things were happening out there like sledding, ice skating, building snowmen and snow forts… These activities could not be entertained from indoors so I would bite the bullet and begin the labor some task of pulling on layer after layer of winter apparel in an effort to be weatherproofed. As I approached the point which one would consider sufficiently dressed for the cold, a creeping sense of irritability would begin deep within me and before I knew it I would be overcome by an uncontrollable sensation of suffocation, fury, and panic. Fight or flight mode would kick in and I would pull from one direction, yank at another, scratch, twist and turn to try to avoid this unpleasant feeling that had quickly enveloped me and given me this intense discomfort. 

Sometimes I would successfully make it outdoors to play (my mother would say it took more time for me to get dressed than I would stay outside), but a good deal of the time I ended up pulling the clothing off and throwing it across the room in frustration, angry because I hated how the clothing felt and upset because I inevitably upset my mother (because it disappointed her when I couldn’t “control myself” in this manner).

I think I have loathed clothing since birth; I’ve never have had any memories of comfort while in them for they make me itch a good part of the time. I’m not sure whether my discomfort comes from the seams within the outfit, the thread they use to sew it, or how many times they repeated a stitch to bind the seam. Little things like these would not only irritate me (both in temper and body), but would chaff my skin and give me the equivalent of an Indian rub burn on whatever area of my body it may be brushing against.

I always wanted to like clothing, I wanted to be like my siblings who never seemed bothered by the coarseness of the material or the layering for warmth (I guess that’s how they are able to still live in NE), but I just never could get myself to a point where I felt comfortable. Being without, now that’s comfortable. If I found an outfit I liked it was generally something very soft and loose, one I would describe as “feeling like I have nothing on” (and I can recall saying this from a young age… I think I see a pattern forming).

So possibly, I have issues with confinement, maybe that’s part of why I like being a nudist. With this realization said, I’m taking my stand… Yes, I do have issues with being confined, my answer… Be nude. Yes, my skin is easily irritated from the texture and material, my response… Be naked. Truly I am someone who gets easily overheated, my solution… Take my clothes off.  Having my clothes off brings the greatest comfort to my body, mind and spirit. So there you have it, I have admitted to myself and to all who read this… I am truly neurotic when it comes to wearing clothing and being overly hot. It’s a good thing I found nudity; it helps save those around me from my experiencing my neuroticism.

So I will repeat my admission… I have issues… But here is my final response to all those who want to keep me imprisoned in the horrid torture some devices called clothing. Previously I’ve been taunted and demeaned with the following catch phrases, well not anymore! I’m not going to bite the bullet, nor am I going to build a bridge and get over it, and I’m certainly not going to pull up my big girl panties and move on… In fact I’m going to do just the opposite. They’re coming off and staying off when I choose and for as long as I want… So there!

 AZNudistCouple

Finding My Sexuality in Nudism

01/05/2015

This may not be an appropriate way to begin this entry, but during our journey of discovery into nudism, I found myself doing a lot of self-examination regarding my thoughts on many subjects pertaining to our newfound lifestyle. Through writing our blogs I’ve begun to reflect upon the changes being a nudist has brought to my life.  Pondering and digging deep into my psyche has developed new awareness within me and generated into consciousness many uncovered realizations of myself.

I am almost hesitant to write on this subject matter because so many non-nudists think nudism is all about sex. I don’t want anyone to come to the conclusion that once I became a nudist my morals changed and I suddenly became promiscuous and entertained sexual acts freely with anyone other than my husband. My self-discovery refers not to interactions with any other nudists but it is a revelation about me, how I felt about myself prior to and since becoming a nudist.

There is no exaggeration in the fact that I always felt insecure about my appearance growing up. Most young girls/adolescent women feel insecure, as they change from an undeveloped young girl into a woman with breasts and other body parts which attract members of the opposite sex. As a young female, we are taught to keep those private areas covered and keep ourselves pure and chaste so as not to draw attention to ourselves lest we be thought loose, cheap or easy.

As I matured and became a young woman, I was very uncomfortable with sexual advances from other young (and at times older) men. I felt so ill at ease and awkward and I was always carrying around fears of what might happen to me if I was too “easy” with my appearance. I was of my pre-teen years in the late part of the 1960’s and early 1970’s and if anyone was old enough to remember, it was definitely an important time in the sexual revolution. I heard many stories which were told about hippies and their free sex lifestyle, also tales of the drug scene and how it affected those who were participating in its use.

With those stories, came tales of young women who were being attacked and raped, as well as the treatment those women received after their abuse, and how they were scorned and persecuted while trying to bring their attackers to justice. A woman’s appearance and dress was usually brought into question when it came to defending her moral standing in the courts (not sure if it matters still, but it was surely the case when I was young). Needless to say, I was repressed when it came to attempting freedom from clothing, in great part for fear of being noticed or of standing out from the other girls with my sensuality or sexuality. I won’t go into the stories of the unwanted attention I received as a young girl, but they contributed to shaping my perceptions of myself.

Another factor which further influenced my cognizance was being raised in the church. My parents became deeply involved with religion when I was a young teen and though my parents themselves did not suppress us with conformance in attire, the pastor, deacons and other church members surely let one know if a person’s attire did not fit their picture of Christianity. With that said, I want to make one thing clear on this subject; I am not bashing the church with this statement. I love my faith and my beliefs which were instilled within me as a child. I do however dislike the judgment which seems to follow religion. I won’t say anything more regarding my beliefs lest I turn this into a forum on religion.

Through many confusing influences and chain of events, I grew to be a woman who feared defining and expressing my sexuality. It was almost as though there was a deep sense of it being wrong to be sensual or sexy. As the years went by and with every move I made, I always seemed to associate with the same type of individuals, those who felt the mindset that had been instilled within me from youth was the correct one.

I don’t want to mislead anyone into thinking I wasn’t engaging in sex throughout those years (for I surely was) or that I was a prude (far from it), but I felt like I had to be prim and proper in public but when behind closed doors things were completely different. It was a confusing tightrope I was walking, and I always felt a fear of someday falling, that somehow the truth about my sexuality would someday be discovered and I would be shamed. The implication was, how I dressed was in one way or another attached to my sexual behavior in the eyes of the world (or at least in my little world) and I felt I needed to fit in or else be left out in the cold. It was as though I deemed myself as being deceitful by having two personas… the good prissy wife/mother in public… sexually serving mate behind closed doors and I didn’t like the feeling of insincerity I arrived at with this duality.

After a time I consoled myself by accepting the belief, alas, this was the way of the world, the way a good woman should behave… these were the duties of a virtuous Christian wife and mother. I never felt comfortable talking with other women about my intimate existence for fear they would think me an immoral person or slutty if I told them about my sex life. The whole conflict I dwelled in was simply too embarrassing to disclose to anyone.

Many years went by, and I got divorced.  After I met my wonderful husband Mark, we began testing the waters in nudity, at least behind closed doors (and I’m not talking about in the bedroom). I was still conflicted, for the dilemma hadn’t changed over being the good girl in public, the bad girl at home. But then something miraculous happened, we stumbled upon social nudity as an alternative for expressing our desires for natural freedom and for the first time in my life, I seriously considered nudism as an option. I don’t know how everything in our universe aligned so perfectly to bring such sweet accord within me, but giving it a try suddenly seemed to make sense.

With each resort visited and gathering attended, a great comfort was sensed between my husband and myself as we continued to appear at more functions. Mark repeatedly commented on how beautiful I looked on each occasion and he beamed with the most joyful smile each time he looked at me. He told me over and over again of a change he was noticing in me, one of great confidence within me. At first I attributed his comments to his delight over the freedom we felt in social nudity. But as each instance or opportunity to be socially nude occurred, I began to feel it too. It was a deeply felt confidence that stirred within me, one that made me feel jubilant all the way to my core. Something amazing had been awoken within and it was so much more than being confident. It wasn’t about feeling beautiful (though amazingly, I did feel a sensation of beauty within myself) and I just could not put my finger on what it was exactly.

One evening after we returned from spending the day at Mira Vista and retired for the evening, Mark and I lay in bed talking about the wonderful time we had enjoyed. As we continued talking, I began to describe what I was experiencing within me, and the only description which truly seemed appropriate for what I was feeling was sexy. I almost felt silly admitting such a feeling existed in me, but the more I thought about what I had confessed, the more I found myself relishing the sensation which accompanied my professed declaration… it was at that moment I decided to embrace it, to just go with it, and claim it… yes, I felt sexy and there was absolutely nothing wrong with that!

This statement of feeling sexy does not signify that I feel I’m able to get any man or that I feel alluring to all that set eyes upon me. It doesn’t suggest I am going to peruse every nude get together seeking to “hook up” with someone other than my spouse. Nor does it imply that I am conceited regarding my appearance, believing I am “all that and a bag of chips” (a phrase my children used when they were talking about conceited people). It’s simply a solid feeling of sexual confidence in who I am as a woman. No shame, no insecurities, it’s simply that I feel as beautiful as when God created me in his image and as I believe I appear in his eyes (clothed or unclothed).

I feel I have grown immensely with this realization. I have found my sensuality, I have discovered the confidence to be a woman who is at peace with herself completely nude and amazingly… I do feel sexy!

AZNudistCouple

How We Began Our Nudist Adventures

12/20/2014

We want to wish each of our readers a very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.  As we are approaching the end of another year and almost beginning a new one, we've spent a little time remembering some of the events that have changed our lives so dramatically and has brought such hope to our futures.  We hope you'll enjoy taking this walk down memory lane with us.

My husband thought it a good idea to share with all of our blog followers, how we became nudists in the first place. It’s a conversation we’ve had at various functions or resorts when we’ve gathered with other nudists, so why not share it here with all of you.

 It was so simple and rather a happenstance the way we began. When we entered into social nudism, from the very first moment it felt astonishingly comfortable. In some ways it feels as though we eased slowly into it, yet again it’s as though we were suddenly all in, as though we’d jumped into the deep end of the pool. I feel the best way to describe life’s events are to measure them by how my heart felt at the time. When I try to think of ways to describe experiences in my life, I seem to get visual or cinematic images of occurrences that harmonize with my feelings from these happenings. So when I describe them in this way, some say I’m dramatic, but those who are kindred spirits call it romanticism, and personally I prefer that definition. With that said, maybe you’ll be able to come along with us as I try to define it in my filmic way.

In the manner of ease and comfort, it seemed as though we were sliding gently into a pool of tepid water. It felt warm, soothing and remarkably relaxing, so much so, I can’t ever imagine going back to the way our lives were before we became social nudists. Now I say “social nudists” because we had been at home nudists for quite some time (and we have found most nudists we’ve met were “at home nudists” prior to entering the nude lifestyle). My husband and I had been our own version of nudists before meeting. My life before my husband was quite different (as was his before me). I had been in an abusive marriage for years and his marriage had been one in which he had lived under control for years.  So nudism brought freedom to both of us though the reality of it came to us through different avenues.

So I feel I should backtrack to the footpaths that brought us to our harmonious course. Due to the separate paths that brought us to this point and the amount of history that I feel is needed to give our story the legitimacy it deserves, I’ve decided to write this telling my story, his story, and then our story.

Her Story

Thinking back to my first “aha” moment over how I became a nudist, I would say I relate my enjoyment of nudism, to skinny dipping as a youngster. Growing up, we spent our summers at our family cabin on a lake in New England. It was a common event to swim nude at night in our family. There were conditions however (so you won’t think us one of those redneck kind of families), in order… girls went into the lake alone for a while, after we returned the boys would go out to swim, and after we had all gone to bed, my parents would go out for a dip.

Another factor in my ability to embrace nudity was how casually my parents viewed the human body even though they were very religious. My father thought nothing of stripping down to what he called “skivvies” and walking around in them. My mother would often take off her shirt and wear just her bra and a skirt when the weather was terribly hot (we didn’t have air conditioning in those days). My parents slept in the nude, which all of my siblings and I discovered early in life due to occasionally meeting them in the hallway during our middle of night run to the bathroom (uncomfortable!!!!) My father was a gas service man and his calls sometimes took him to the quote unquote “nudist colony”, which whenever he was sent there on a service call would return with some sort of humorous story of his encounters. As a child I thought nothing of these things. As a teenager I found them appalling, and as any typical teenager would, I voiced how embarrassing and disgusting this was to us. My father’s reply was, “There is nothing dirty or nasty about the human body, only people’s minds that makes it so”. As a teenager I didn’t appreciate his mindset, but as I matured I gradually accepted his view on this to be true. I believe God created us in his image and our bodies are beautiful. Even though I didn’t think I could be the type of person to do such a thing, I adopted the same type of comfortable attitude about my body. So what if my children walked in on me while I was getting dressed or out of the shower, if I acted casually, they thought nothing of it. I often sat with a towel around me and felt quite comfortable, or in a bathrobe alone, no problem. Well, I’m getting off track and need to get back to my initial train of thought…

As time moved on, life changed, and I’d sort of forgotten about those early days due to events such as getting married, having a family, relocating to other areas of the country away from “home”. Many years later, I moved to Arizona and purchased a home with a pool, and returning to this tradition just sort of happened one night when our air conditioner went out. I couldn’t sleep from the unbearable heat and decided to take a dip to cool off in the middle of the night. I couldn’t find my swimsuit in the dark and didn’t want to awaken the spouse, and somehow my mind went back to memories of my youth so I thought, Hmmm… Why not go naked? From the moment I first lowered my body into the water, I returned to that euphoric sensation of liberty, releasing all inhibitions and soothing my entire body without the response that an awful wet bathing suit creates (and come on now, we all know the feeling I’m talking about). I felt so emancipated, I’d been delivered, released, freed…it was like I was experiencing part of Martin Luther King’s speech (“I’m free, free, free at last) and I was elated!

Now that I’d rediscovered this therapeutic sensation, I made it a frequent occurrence on the nights I wasn’t working (I worked 3 nights a week in a hospital), that is, until I got caught. My spouse at the time (the abusive one) woke one night while I was dipping and came looking for me. He had an absolute fit at the thought of our neighbors looking out their window and seeing my naked body in the pool. Though we had 6 foot high concrete walls around our back yard, there were other second story homes that surrounded us side/back. At first I tried to appease him by not swimming nude, but after a while I just had to return to it. When he found out, we had terrible arguments about it, but I’d made my mind up, I wasn’t giving it up! I continued on this way until I left the marriage (and the home with the pool), moved to an apartment and had to retire my relaxing swims because I didn’t have the privacy allowed with my own home any longer.

Sometime later, I met my wonderful husband to be. We moved in together after a time, and he had an above ground pool in his backyard. As I said, I worked nights, so one afternoon after I’d woken I decided to go for a swim in the pool. I went out with my suit on (yes, while in an apartment I’d been forced to return to this torturous article of clothing) and climbed into the water. It felt good, but I felt restricted and longed to be naked…so I decided to do it, I took off my bathing suit and hung it over the side of the pool, swimming free as I believe God intended me to be. (I’ll bet Adam and Eve swam naked until they sinned and ate of the fruit of knowledge, right?) Well, that’s another subject for another day…returning to my story…my sweetie came home soon after and when he didn’t find me in bed, he ended up in the backyard looking for me. He saw my swimsuit hanging over the side of the pool (very Petticoat Junction-ish for any of you old enough to remember the show) and was amazed. He came and looked in and said with astonishment, “Baby, you’re naked!” At first I was nervous he would be upset over it, but I saw his eyes and the smile that appeared immediately after, when I said, “Do you mind?” He said in no uncertain terms how much he loved that I wasn’t afraid to swim naked in the backyard. He had tried for years to convince his first wife to do so and she refused. He was, to say the least, thrilled!

As we grew more comfortable together as a couple and after our marriage, we found ourselves without clothing more and more often. We would leave them off in the house, we found we would walk around the backyard without them, even began gardening without them. It was wonderful finding the freedom to be ourselves, while discovering it together.

His Story

I guess I’ve had nudist tendencies most of my life, at least since I was a boy.  When exactly did it start, it’s hard to say. 

I remember when I was in elementary school I felt a strong desire to be naked outside.  So much so, that when I was home alone, I would free myself of the clothing that would bind me and venture outside to our back yard.  It is a wonder the neighbors never spied me or my parents never caught me naked out there. 

Another influence for me was the Boy Scout campouts.  The older scouts told us first year scouts (ten and eleven years old) that we would sleep warmer if we slept in our underwear.  I don’t know how true that was, but I found myself sleeping naked in my sleeping bag, and I liked it so well I’ve been sleeping naked ever since.  Again, it is a wonder I didn’t get caught since the scouts were fond of dragging us out of our tents sleeping bag and all. They would dump the scout some distance from camp, so he would have to walk back in the dark.  I was fortunate I never got selected for this initiation.

I slept naked all through high school and it felt wonderful.  It was easy to sleep naked in the summertime as the night time temperatures in central Arizona were pretty warm, rarely getting below 90 degrees overnight May/June through September/October.  Not having anything on my body was a welcomed relief with the nighttime humidity.

I remember during the summer time how I wished I could swim naked at the neighbor’s pool or the public pool down the street.  I hated the feeling of that wet suit clinging to my skin and it inevitably bunched up, giving me a wedgie and I was always pulling it out.  It was very uncomfortable and embarrassing, too.  One day at the pool my father showed me what I looked like pulling the wedgie out. I told him I hated wearing the swimsuit for that reason.  How I wished I could swim naked.  This brings up Boy Scouts again.  It was not uncommon for the scouts to go skinny dipping on our outings as most campouts were near a lake, stream, or river.  We thought nothing of stripping down and getting in the water.  It was natural.  It did not feel weird.  It was fun.

And so went my teenage years.

After graduating high school, I married my high school sweetheart.  She was very religious and sexually repressed.  She was a prude!  Much to my surprise sleeping naked for her was a non-starter.  That just would not happen.  Not only would it not happen, she thought it was perverted and that I had a problem.  I argued that how could something that felt so right be wrong.  Well, let’s just say I did not win that one.  While she slept in pajamas, I always slept naked, even after our two sons were born.  She was always worried one of the boys would come into our room at night and see me naked in bed.  While the boys did on many occasions come into our bedroom during the night, they never saw me naked, or at least not to my knowledge.  Additionally, anything to do with nudity, in the movies or on television, always sparked a comment from her about how dirty and disgusting it was to see a woman’s breast, or a man’s penis, or heaven forbid a full frontal nude shot of a woman.  Forget even attempting to be naked in the house.  I even had to have a towel wrapped around me coming out of the shower lest she see my naked body.  It’s a wonder we even had two children together.  I resigned myself to sleeping naked as my one nudist pleasure.

Thirty six days shy of our thirtieth wedding anniversary, my first wife died.  While this was a terrible loss and my world fell apart, it was the release of my sexual repression.  When I started dating again I met Rose.  She was not a nudist, nor was I at the time, and she still had a minor child living with her from a previous marriage.  We were married a year and a half later.  I was still sleeping naked and Rose decided to give it a try and loved it.  She too has been sleeping naked ever since.

Rose worked nights, at a local hospital, and slept days.  One day I got home from work and did not find her in bed asleep and started looking for her.  I found her out in the pool.  As I approached her I noticed her swimsuit hanging over the edge of the pool.  I asked what’s with the swimsuit and to my astonishment; she was naked in the pool.  I stood there with my mouth agape in surprise.  She said something, but I couldn’t hear a word, my only thought was, SHE WAS NAKED IN THE POOL!  To this day I still couldn’t tell you what she said.  As it turns out, she too skinny dipped as a child, and in her previous marriage would skinny dip in the middle of the night when she could not sleep.  WOW! Cha-Ching! My lucky day!  Well, it did not take much to convince me this is what we should be doing, and so we did.  From then on, we never wore swimsuits in the pool, unless we had company.

As time went on and we became more comfortable, we started being naked in the house, eventually venturing out into the back yard.  We found gardening naked was especially relaxing.  We landscaped most of the back yard (au naturel) for privacy so we can be naked there as often as we want.

Now that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

Our Story

As I finished “My Story” with how comfortable my husband and I felt being nude around our home, I neglected to mention how often he would say… “I wish we could be naked all the time and never have to put clothes on to answer the door”. In addition to this fact, my husband had a lovely 25 ft. camper when I met him and we had taken a couple of camping trips which we enjoyed tremendously. He mentioned on each trip how much he wished we could be naked while we were camping in the country (which I wasn’t totally on board with since there were mosquitos in the forest areas and I didn’t wish to allow them to feast freely on my exposed flesh). With both of these things being said, this leads up to the big/not so big moment in which we began to entertain the thought of becoming social nudists.

Because we had begun to enjoy outings in the camper, we frequently watched a television show about campers and RV’s (can’t remember the exact name of the show however). One weekend while watching, they led into a sequence by saying, “And for those of you who are looking for a different kind of camping…” Well it was about nude camping. My husband and I looked at each other with a look that said… “Maybe”, and we decided to look into it possibly for a future adventure. You see, both of us had been married before for many years and we were looking to expand our exploration opportunities as a couple to destinations we hadn’t already experienced with our previous spouses.

Weeks or months passed (can’t remember the amount of time elapsed either, getting old sucks sometimes) and one night while on break at work, my husband and I were discussing the upcoming weekend over the phone and trying to decide what to do. We felt like we’d fallen into a rut of doing the same thing over and over again on my off weekend (for I had to work every other weekend); we were looking for something new to experience. As he inquired of what I thought we should do, it came to mind about the naked campground show. There was a nude campground located only about a half hour from our home, and I asked him if he had ever looked into it? He was very surprised that I was serious about nude camping, and I thought, why not?

I reasoned out what nudity would entail, the possibility of lewd individuals harassing me crept into my mind but I quickly brushed those thoughts away because of my father’s stories of the people he encountered at the “colony”. He always presented them as decent individuals who just happened to like walking around in public without clothes. Okay, what else would cause me to have a problem with this? I worked in healthcare, I often had to touch, clean and view naked bodies. So what is different about this? I thought about other people seeing me naked. I had six children and I’d been on view with each pregnancy to doctors, nurses, and lactation consultants. I also breast fed each of my children and upon reflection, I decided I truly didn’t have much modesty (if any) left in me.

So what about my husband? How was he going to feel about me being naked for the world to see? My ex was a very jealous man. He had no problem leering or lusting over other women, but no other man should do so over me. If one ever did, I usually paid the price with accusations or abuse. These thoughts caused some consideration as well but I rapidly dismissed them as they appeared. My lovely husband would never react in such a way with me. I knew he was proud of me and didn’t hold any jealousy or suspicion in his mind toward me. With the previously mentioned doubts and insecurities settled, there was nothing to hold us back.

As I’m writing this a realization has suddenly occurred to me, with all of these doubts previously mentioned, the one thing I never considered to dissuade me was being intimidated over my size (I am a plus size woman) in front of others. I don’t know why it didn’t, but it didn’t and it still hasn’t to this day. I mention this because I revealed our lifestyle in nudity sometime later to my close friends. The first thing they said (after the shock of how the quiet, meek and reserved person I am could be bold enough to do it) is that they could never do it because of their poor physical condition. Now mind you, they have slender bodies and look wonderful for their ages. But with their poor self-image they couldn’t entertain the thought of social nudism even if they wanted to because they are ashamed of their bodies. It’s very sad really.

Returning to the details of our first venture into public nudity… My husband agreed to look into reservations and any other information needed for a nude camping venture. He found information through AANR (American Association for Nude Recreation) which by the way is an organization for clothing optional resorts and recreation areas. They monitor each facility and report to members, insuring each maintains their integrity by being wholesome and family oriented (no swinging, swapping or public sexual displays tolerated in other words). They pride themselves on improving conditions for nude recreation across the country. Well anyways, as I was saying about my husband, true to his thorough and meticulous nature he had read up on the organization and the campground as well, which by the way is named Shagri La Ranch. By Friday, we were members of AANR, had reservations made with itinerary in hand and our camper loaded and ready to go.

The entire time since we had decided we were going to go to Shagri La Ranch, my husband was very wary of my feelings about this trip. He’d look at me very seriously and say, “Are you sure you’re okay with this…? You’re not doing this just for me are you…? Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Or he would ask similar questions over the phone as we talked about it, he was so sweet in his concern for me. Each time I reassured him I was fine with it, and I truly was. Even as we drove to the ranch he told me repeatedly we could still turn around if I wanted to. It got to the point I could do nothing but smile, for I began to wonder if he was possibly feeling unsure about it and was worried to change his mind for fear of upsetting me. Turned out it was as I originally knew it to be, it was purely out of concern for me that he was worried about my comfort level.

When we turned onto the dirt road which brought us to the ranch, we had gone just beyond the gates when we saw a nude man walking down the road with his dog. We looked at each other and said, “Well we just saw our first naked person.” We both laughed because we said it at the same time to one another and if there was any tension over apprehension it loosened up with that. We registered at the front office, found our reserved spot and got our trailer all leveled and hooked up. We prepared our lunch, ate it and cleaned up after ourselves. Then we decided it was now or never, we undressed and walked out of the camper. We immediately met a man who reminded me of Jerry Garcia with his long hair and beard (all he needed was a tie-dyed band around his head and love beads strung from his neck). He started chatting with us and asked us if we’d ever been to a nude recreation area before. I don’t know if we screamed nudity virgins by appearance or just a vibe he got from us, but we proudly proclaimed this to be our first. He asked how we decided we wanted to try this and I told him a little bit of our story. I mistakenly mentioned the part about my father going to the “nudist colony” through his employment and was promptly put in my place regarding how nudists feel over calling it a colony. He firmly stated, “They’re resorts, we’re not lepers and we’re not ants… This is a resort!” I have been very careful not to repeat that phrase for it’s a sentiment I’ve heard repeated by others since that first encounter.

I believe I felt at ease from the beginning because I felt no judgment. Astonishingly, I came to the realization that when I am clothed I am noticed in a way that makes me feel like I’m being critiqued. I think I surprised my husband when I told him I felt more judgment with my clothes on than when fully naked.

So there you have it, this is our story of our nude beginnings. As my husband says, “We dropped our clothes, walked out the door and haven’t looked back since!” The only looking back is done in amazement over how easy the remembrance of how we got here seems. If it was in reality more difficult than I recall, remember, I am a romantic.

AZNudistCouple

Social Nudity at Private Gatherings

12/20/2014

I struggled with a title as I started with this blog entry. How do I express what we call the gatherings at homes of friends who are also nudists? Do we call them parties? Sometimes they are parties. Do we call them barbeques? Well yes, sometimes they are barbeques. Sometimes they are solely a group of friends and acquaintances who enjoy being nude who get together in private homes solely for the purpose of socializing without their clothing.

When my husband and I first became nudists, we heard conversations from our newfound friends at Mira Vista Resort about get-togethers in private homes around the area. My very first impression was brakes on… There is no way I am going to go to the home of someone I hardly know and be naked there! My husband was interested in expanding our network of friends in the nudist community, and since we found quite a few members from Mira Vista lived around the Phoenix area he thought this a great opportunity. Soon we began having conversations about the possibility of joining other Mira Vista members at social gatherings in their homes and without sugar coating it; I was not on board with it, at all! I didn’t want to be negative and I could see how much my husband desired to find alternatives to only being socially nude at our resort and in our home. I had the greatest trepidation over this substitution, and my mind kept leaping into contemplations of what would happen to us or our marriage if we began down this path.

I know this sounds like I truly went off the deep end on this matter and it may seem as though I’m giving the impression that private social gatherings most assuredly lead into some form of swinging or sexual situation, but I’m presenting this through my minds eyes at that point in our lives. We had only been nudists for a month or two when this subject began to frequent our conversations based on social invitations. Surprisingly, I felt quite comfortable being nude in front of everyone we had met at our resort, and no one had ever approached me or my husband in a manner which presented a proposition of any sort… So where was this overwhelming apprehension coming from?

I guess the first of my misgivings came from my prior marriage. I had an ex who had the most wandering of eyes (and other body parts) and I suppose part of my foreboding came from that. I also had concerns of women possibly thinking my husband was up for grabs because we were in a much more intimate location (I don’t know why it seemed so much more a possibility in this setting). Another stress point brought flashbacks of cautionary tales you hear from the bar scene. In other words, I feared the possibility of someone slipping some type of drug into our food or drink and then the fears connected with this behavior began to unravel my mind. Now, all of these hesitations appear so ludicrous from my current perspective, but at the time they were very real possibilities and I was fearful concerning the unknown.

To my husband’s credit, he was very patient with me and never made me feel pressured to do anything I was uncomfortable with. His patience touched me and then I began to feel so unreasonable, for I knew him to be a wonderfully sound man, and I knew he would certainly never suggest anything which would hurt me or us. Yet, every time I entertained the thoughts of joining a get-together, the tension would start to build within me. I was relieved and felt fortunate that we never had invitations at times when we were truly available to attend (again, not due to my husband’s insistence, but over my reluctance). I was glad to always have a better plan or prior engagement which was preferred.  That is, until it was Super bowl season.

By now, we had been nudists for about six months. I had gone round and round in my mind about this issue and still had not truly found peace over this topic. As I’ve mentioned before, my husband has been quite thorough in his exploration into nudism. He scanned the internet seeking every bit of subject matter he could find pertaining to social nudity. He had begun connecting with various nudist groups, one in particular named “Canyon State Naturists”. On this occasion in particular, when an invite was presented, I could find no good reason or previous engagement with cause to disregard it, so our invitation was confirmed.

We prepared for the Super Bowl Party with thoughts of what to bring (for everyone was to bring their favorite drink and appetizer for the buffet style event). Our choice, Mexican style shrimp cocktail along with crackers and tortilla chips to accompany. I tried to keep myself busy with thoughts of the preparation as we worked together formulating the variety of ingredients into our delicious cocktail. It’s a very involved process, lots of little steps go into making it just right, and so this is what I focused on to take my mind off my insecurity over attending this gathering.

Now the time had come, we packed our shrimp cocktail and accompaniments along with our drinks, chairs and towels, and off we went. My husband entered the address of the event into our GPS and I had the impression we were going a far distance to reach this destination. It ended up being only minutes from our own home. I wasn’t sure if this was a good or bad thing, I was hoping for a little more time to adjust before arriving, but then decided it just as well, for we could more easily go home if I felt too terribly uncomfortable with the situation.

We were running a little behind in time, so we encountered a little difficulty in finding parking. As we walked through the entry way of the lovely home which hosted the event, I paid close attention to detail; noting the elements the owner of this home had implemented once passing through the front gate to insure privacy. I felt a sense of seclusion as I noticed how lovely the enclosed patio looked; it was very romantic with plants, pottery, and sculpture with draped screening of some sort which gave the illusion of curtains overhead. How intimate, I wasn’t sure what to think about that as we continued toward the front door of the home. Now we were almost at the door, nervousness was near overcoming me, deep breaths, deep breaths I kept telling myself. I was so worked up over this, which I couldn’t understand due to my lack of fear over starting out in nudism in the first place. Due to the contrast in attitude I began to wonder if my intuition was trying to tell me something for I’ve always been the type of person who said, “If I feel fretfulness over a situation, there must be a reason for it.” I was a frazzled wreck inside, yet I tried to play it cool so as not to make my husband feel bad for how I felt.

As the front door opened for us we found the event was quite well packed with other members involved in cheering on their favorite team as the game was already in progress. I truly can’t recall if we were automatically greeted at the door or if it occurred after entering, but a lovely woman named Gwen welcomed us into her home. Within moments, a jovial gentleman named Fred came over and shook our hands and my husband recognized him as the person he had been conversing with on the internet, (he had been responsible for inviting us to the event). A spot was cleared for our chairs, they made a place for our dish, and we were directed to a bedroom in which we could undress.

I don’t remember how many people were at the event, but in my mind there seemed to be 20-30 individuals at least. We were introduced one by one to each person there and eventually settled into our chairs to participate in the games festivities. They had the usual pool for the game (I didn’t understand the rules of it then, don’t understand them still) and Mark put our money into the pool and gathered our numbers. Somehow, we won three of the quarters in the game and ended up winning $150.00 dollars, wow!

As the afternoon progressed, I found all my fear and apprehension was over nothing. We found all variation of dress at the function on that day. Some were completely nude, while others wore a wrap of sorts, or only a football jersey, and others completely clothed. No one paid attention to the level of undress, it was all about the game and socializing. Even after the game ended and only the social period prevalent, there was no gawking, no lewd or unwanted moments. Everyone at the function was pleasant, welcoming, and no one appeared out of order in any way. We had a great afternoon with a wonderful group of people… And we won a nice wad of cash!!!

I guess the point I am trying to make with this blog, is how I had many irrational fears about something I perceived poorly in my mind. I had no basis for this misconception, only my own senseless reservations. I marvel at the hurdles when they are overcome, and thankful that God has given me a husband who supports me and in turn helps me break through many of the misconceptions which at times bind me.

We have joined a couple of home groups here in the Phoenix area since that time. We enjoy the occasional pool party, barbeque, or whatever occasion happens to bring us together… In the homes of wonderful, decent people who are kind enough to welcome us. It has truly been an eye opening experience for me. Opening my mind to new friendships and to new ways of enjoying nudism, and to think, in the beginning I had the brakes on all the way! So glad I took my foot off the brake and have laid it on the gas… Go, go, go!!!

AZNudistCouple

My Own Misconceptions of Nudism

12/10/2014

I’m sure everyone has their own concepts of what nudity must be. Not that I perceive non-nudists as people who sit around thinking, “hmm, I wonder what being a nudist is like” in their everyday lives. But when the subject arises, I’m sure a certain thought or image must come to mind. Well I’ll admit that I have had my own ideas and images of a nudist prior to becoming one and they certainly have changed since.

To start with the basis for my first misconception of nudity I must go back to my youth and memories of different events from that time. As I mentioned in a previous blog, my father worked for the area gas company and on many occasions he was dispatched to the local “nudist colony” (his name for it back in the day) for service calls. I remember having little drifts of the imagination trying to envision what this place where no one wore clothing was like. The area where the “colony” was located was positioned off a major route and we would drive past it when taking trips to our grandparent’s house. As we passed that point my father would call out with his customary comment of, “There’s the nudist colony”, and as was common with my dad’s customs, an updated story would follow about his most recent visit. I never really thought of what being a nudist might be like except in those moments when dad would bring up one of his stories. And if I did happen to envision anything, it seemed to include some silly thoughts of nude people running around; throwing beach balls to each other (don’t ask me why).

Rather than repeatedly calling it “the colony”, I might as well mention the name of the resort which brought forth my first imaginations about nudism. Its name is Cedar Waters Village (they have been in existence since 1950 and admittedly I had to Google them after becoming a nudist to see if they were still there) and it’s truly a campground, not a resort. Their location is announced by a very unassuming wooden sign with a half sun (I can still see the sign in my mind and they still use the same familiar sign to this day) rising up below their name.  The entrance into their facility is a meager little turn off the highway into a heavily wooded area. I remember peering through the window as we passed to see if I could get a glimpse of this unimaginable place I was trying to depict, looked like. I never could see a thing for the entrance was one in which you drove up a slight incline and then the road just seemed to disappear into the woods (very mysterious to me in my childhood thoughts).

I honestly couldn’t seem to conjure up any image of what they did there. I mean, they were naked, so I guess they’d swim, but what else? As I matured, more questions would come to mind, such as… What did they do about the mosquitoes; they had nothing to cover them to prevent their bites…? And what about during the winter, didn’t they freeze without coats, boots and mittens on? What did these people do? (I now know the campground is closed after Columbus Day so they have no winter worries there). And since I was maturing in age, that ever popular question would come to my thoughts… Don’t men walk around with erections all the time…? My mind would usually hit a stone wall after a time, and it just seemed to be too gross (my teenage word for anything offensive) to try to think further on this subject and I’d have to shake it from my imagination and move on to something else.

Now this leads me to my first realization that I carried misconceptions regarding nudity, for I thought if you were a nudist, once you’ve entered the facility, you had to remove your clothes (some sort of unwritten rule in my mind). I’m sure this way of thinking is related to my dad’s stories again, for in one of his tales; he told of how the guard at the entrance said he’d seen him there numerous times before and the rule was, after the third visit he had to remove his clothing. He promptly told him, “Well then, I guess you don’t want your water heater fixed.” (He always got a good laugh out of that one).

So I guess my impression was, no clothing allowed once inside, (and I’m blaming it on my dad’s tales, so keep this in mind as I go further with this story). So now we skip forward to our first day at Shangri La Ranch, and there happened to be a dance in the evening. We decided to check it out and as we strolled toward the dance hall we could see the disco ball and pretty lights through the windows. But what we saw allowed us no preparation for what we found upon entering… They had clothes on!

We suddenly felt very uncomfortable and promptly turned and went outside. What were we going to do…? My mind raced through thoughts of what we had packed for this trip. We hadn’t planned on needing clothing (who would have thought we would need them knowing we were headed for nude camping) and we hadn’t brought clothes for a dance, we didn’t know if we should just return to our camper or say, “who cares” and go in.

We must have seemed a little strange as we sort of peeked in through the door to see what type of clothing they were wearing. From what we could see it seemed casual, so we returned to our camper, found some articles of clothing that looked casual and threw them on. We returned to the dance and easily found a table since there was only a handful of people in the hall at this time. As people slowly filled the room, we got our first glimpse of a very curious pattern we’ve found and acquired ourselves since participating in nudity and it was a true eye opener for both of us… Nudists like to dress up for parties and dances. But “dressing up” in nudity and “dressing up” in the textile world are of slightly different varieties. What we saw were individuals dressed in anything from a little bow tie around a man’s penis to women with very sexy lingerie, as well as those who wore conventional dresses, slacks or whatever.

I guess that’s what is so appealing to me about being a nudist; it’s the “Whatever” about it. I like having the independence to dress how I want, when I want. I don’t have to conform to what everyone else thinks is right for me, but what I decide is right for me. Yes, certainly I’ll wear a costume or theme if it’s a holiday or party, but I don’t have to. And nothing says I have to keep them on either. Many a party has found me with an outfit on in the beginning and then completely naked half way through the event. I like not having to follow other individual’s idea of conformity; it’s whatever I’m in the mood for. So granted, I don clothing at times, but I also do so when I go to work, or to the store, even if I answer my front door I feel it’s required to put something on (or else shock the person on the other side and possibly get a visit from our fine police department). Nudity just happens to give us an additional option which we may or may not choose on occasion.

So now I know (and so all of you), nudists do the same things everyone else does, and they do it with or without clothing. They hike, swim; play volleyball, croquet, tennis, even lie about reading a book, you name it. They do everything clothed people do, following their own whim or discretion. As a nudist you have the freedom to wear the clothes, or not. I think it’s very appropriate to call them clothing optional resorts or facilities. I have seen members playing tennis at Mira Vista, some with clothing, and some without. I’ve seen some hiking the trails naked, others with clothes. Same goes for walking around the compound, working out in the gym, going to meals, or just sitting in the lounge… It’s whatever suits their fancy and the option and freedom to choose is what’s most attractive and satisfying to me. One thing we’ve noticed all conscientious nudists are consistent with, and that is always carrying with them a towel for sitting upon and this is done for sanitary hygiene reasons.

So there you have it, my first misconception documented and dismissed. I know I’ve had others and when they come to mind I’ll write about them for future posts. This truly has been an evolution as we’ve grown in our experiences in nudity, it’s a journey we’ve found relaxing, liberating, exciting and so very pleasurable. We hope you’ll enjoy reading what we consider revelations as we encounter them, one step at a time.

AZNudistCouple