Why Nudism?

Why do we nudists, naturists and naked people in general, dislike wearing clothes so much and enjoy living life naked?

This is a question I have asked myself ever since my very first naked experiences (as a young boy), and one for which I have never hit upon a totally satisfactory explanation. This is quite possibly because lovers of nudity live their lives naked for all sorts of diverse reasons and there's not just one simple answer.

I am always interested in hearing other people's origin stories and their reasons for enjoying the naked lifestyle –the two are often related– as well as drawing comparisons between their stories and my own experience. Both in face-to-face conversations and online stories and discussions, certain explanations come up more frequently than others—nudity being natural, comfort and body acceptance are all examples of these.

We need to make a difference between nudity in private spaces and nudity in public spaces, as the reasons for being naked within a private space, such as your own home, and public nudity can be very different. Even then, the contexts can be vary, e.g. at home on your own, compared to being with family and friends; or naked in public in a dedicated naturist space, compared to in an open public space.

In the home, spending time naked is generally for comfort, or because it feels totally natural to do so. If you're alone, or with your partner or family, well then, why not? Everyone is naked in their home to some extent – whether it's in bed or in the bathroom, or to various situations beyond these two most intimate of spaces. If you sunbathe naked in a totally private garden, for instance, there's little difference between that and sunning yourself on the UV bed or even drying yourself off in your bathroom – no one else is going to see you or invade your private space.

Nudity at home is immensely beneficial for self-esteem, body positivity and self-confidence. It gives us the opportunity to get comfortable being naked and to get to know our bodies and to feel good about ourselves. We live with our naked body, with all its features and details, and feel more than ever that it is an integral part of the essence our being; not a commodity to be requisitioned and exploited by others to their advantage.

In a similar way, bringing children up in a relaxed, naked home atmosphere makes them feel comfortable and at ease with their own nudity, as well as other people's, and prepares them for a life of confidence and healthy self-esteem, without hang ups and complexes surrounding nudity and the human body.

The context of the reasons we have mentioned –comfort, naturality and body confidence– changes if we take nudity out of the home and into a public setting, either naturist or non-naturist. Younger children will not even register the transition from one space to another, and will carry on behaving in a very similar fashion, but for older children and adults, the proposition is very different. Their nudity is no longer in the intimate home setting but in a public space, for everyone to witness.

For me, this is where the dividing line between simply living life naked and nudism lies – nudism implies a public setting, and our behaviour in public is very different to in the home, naked or not. 

Nudism and naturism involve being naked in a public context, either in a more controlled environment, such as a club or a closed, organised event; or in a totally public space, such as the open countryside or a non-nude beach. A nudist beach could be thought of as somewhere in between, as it is a public space, open to everyone, but where only naked people are welcome.

Once we move into the public domain, further explanations for being naked come into play. For some it's an expression of honesty; not adjusting their "true" selves to the circumstances, just because they are in public. For others it's questioning and challenging the societal expectation to wear clothes and being subversive by not conforming to society's standards. For yet others, it's an expression of freedom.

We then find ourselves contemplating a hierarchy of reasons for being naked, in which one reason can be trumped (this word has been ruined and rendered virtually unusable, but sometimes there's no useful alternative) by another. For example, our own personal comfort is usually relegated in favour of considerations of social convention – we don't go shopping naked just because it is more comfortable; there are other, weightier factors in play.

If you, like me, find being naked liberating, if it makes you feel free, this is of course in your mind, you are actually no freer than when you are not naked (in fact, maybe less so). And yet, if it creates the illusion that you are free, well, then... you feel free! This however doesn't mean it's a universal truth—being naked in public might make some people feel as free as a bird, but it can be deeply mortifying for others!

This is my own, personal reason; I feel liberated, I feel free when I'm naked in the "right" context, because I feel it is my natural state, it is what I love doing, it is how I love being and I don't feel better at any other time. The exact reason for this has been the subject of my thoughts and my conversations with others for years, and I will almost certainly never get to the bottom of it, but maybe it is a result of my upbringing, or maybe I was just born this way.

If I'm not naked in a situation in which I could otherwise conceivably be naked, I might feel restricted, constrained and controlled. If I go for a walk, for example, and the circumstances dictate I can't be naked, it will markedly, and inexplicably to some, negatively affect my enjoyment of the walk.

In the hierarchy of reasons, as we previously saw, there are reasons that curtail our freedom to act as we would wish, even though no one is being harmed by our natural approach – social convention and the law are the two biggest. The law is the easiest to understand: if something's illegal but you do it anyway, you can expect to face the consequences and pay the price if you're caught. Social convention is far more complex because our actions (or our state, in this case) affect so many factors beyond our own happiness and well-being: the comfort and well-being of others, our relationships, our social standing, layers and layers of custom, tradition, perceived "right" and "wrong", morality and "collective wisdom".

All these values directly challenge the premise that we should all be free to live our own lives and pursue our own dreams as long as no one else is negatively impacted as a result. But what about the situation in which someone claims they have been affected by our nudity but we beg to differ? Feinberg’s "offense principle" considers this, comparing offence with harm and claiming that severe offence is comparable to actual harm. But as the nature of offence is a value judgement and very subjective, his ideas don't constitute a very satisfactory tool for measuring personal freedom versus perceived offence.

Stephen Fry's take on others taking offence is, unusually for him, more heavy handed:

"It's now very common to hear people say, 'I'm rather offended by that.' As if that gives them certain rights. It's actually nothing more... than a whine. 'I find that offensive.' It has no meaning; it has no purpose; it has no reason to be respected as a phrase. 'I am offended by that.' Well, so fucking what."

 (I saw hate in a graveyard - Stephen Fry, The Guardian, 5 June 2005: https://www.theguardian.com/uk/2005/jun/05/religion.hayfestival2005?CMP=share_btn_url)

I think we have a moral obligation to take others' sensibilities into account in certain circumstances –not to do so would be egotistical– but it involves a certain amount of self-sacrifice in exchange for their comfort, albeit, in the scheme of things, a very minor sacrifice. The consideration is then whether your comfort more important than my (very minor) sacrifice, and as nudists, we can't imagine why anyone would be offended by the mere sight of non-sexual nudity: one person's offence is another person's normality.

Nudity is natural, but, with very few exceptions, such as in some Amazonian tribes, or in very specific circumstances (such as in nudist clubs and on nudist beaches) nudism cannot be described as "normal": it is not the usual state in which people go about their everyday lives. But this doesn't mean it's wrong or immoral (in several countries it's not even illegal anymore) and people can't be naked if they so wish.

There are many compelling arguments for nudism, and if we hear the claim that it is unacceptable in public spaces such as (non-nudist) beaches, rivers, lakes, parks and the open countryside, it is only an opinion, a value judgement. There are several very good reasons to extend the practice of nudism beyond the "acceptable", controlled spaces and into the outside world, weighing up the offence some people may take (if indeed they take any at all) with our own personal freedoms, but that is a discussion for another post.

Every nudist has their own reasons for being a nudist, as well as their own considerations for being naked in any given circumstance. My own reason for naked living is being naked feels to me like the maximum expression of freedom; it's what makes me feel most free. My wish is to take this feeling of freedom beyond the designated spaces that someone, somewhere once declared acceptable for nudity, and into the outside world for more and more people to enjoy.