In the first part of this series, I talked about the first shy steps in nudity, inside your own house. Now let’s take this one step further. Let’s go outside of the house. In our own garden.
The first scary step
Admittingly, the very first time you step out of the door naked, it is a bit scary. This is clearly not the normal operating procedure that you’re used to.
To a non-nudist, this is becoming a true horror story. Not just being naked, but outside of the house, and with the much higher risk of being seen. This is the stuff of nightmares. Why would you even do that? Well… let me give an idea of how it felt for me.
You feel the excitement of leaving the relative safety of your house and venture outside. You are apprehensive about the neighbours seeing you like this. They have never seen you naked, and you sure hope that today is not the day that they will. You have no idea about how you would even begin to explain to them why on earth you are naked in your garden. “I forgot to put on my clothes?” So you keep close to the back door, you leave some clothes handy near that door—as if that will save you when they see you.
At first, you just slip into and out of the house, quickly, almost like a burglar would. You look for blind corners of the back porch where the neighbours can’t see you, and start relaxing a bit. You have your coffee, read a magazine, anything to relax.
Once you get used to being outside, you start to venture away from your safe spots. You even start wondering why you were so afraid to go outside. It feels great. You’re in your own secluded garden, you have the right to your privacy, you’re not breaking any laws. So you take a lawn chair, drape a towel over it, and position yourself on the lawn, in the sun.
Feeling the elements
It is such a strange sensation, to feel the sun on your bare skin, to feel the wind over your body. You are barefoot, and it feels so natural to really touch the ground—it makes the experience complete.
But you’re still nervous. Access to your garden is open for anyone. What if the postman, or a courier driver, come around the house to drop off a parcel—as you instructed? What if the neighbour walks by behind the hedge separating your gardens, and catches a glimpse of you? What if my across the street neighbour drops by?
Yes, what if?
In your imagination, you put your hands over your boobs and utter some apology—as if that would be what the man would want.
The longer you think about it, the less you worry. If this happens, it’s their problem. They invaded your privacy, they have no right to be offended or shocked. You’re not a pervert, you’re not an exhibitionist, you just want to relax without clothes.
This thought relaxes your mind, and allows you to start enjoying your new-found freedom. Already you increased your self-confidence, and lowered any shame about your nudity. In fact, your awareness about your body has heightened significantly by now, in a positive way. These are the first signs of body positivity.
From now on, you get less cautious, you stop sneaking around your own house and garden as if you’re committing some crime. You get this higher sense of utter freedom. It feels so wonderful allowing yourself to do something that you didn’t know you needed, and of which you think it would be disapproved by most people you know. And it starts to make you wonder why they would disapprove.
Again you’re not harming any animals by doing this, not even the squirrel with wide-open eyes when he sees you like that. He’ll survive.
With the newly gained confidence, you start doing your chores outside. You installed a windscreen in front of this gap in the hedge separating your garden from the neighbours’. This allows you quite a bit more freedom to move around. In the evening, you spend some time watering all the plants outside, hanging the laundry to dry, cleaning up the garden here and there. And it feels so great stepping right into the shower afterwards, no need to undress before or dress afterwards. That’s two chores less to do.
One with nature
As I already wrote in a previous blog, I experimented with nudity at home during my youth. I sat naked around a local fishing pond at sunrise in summer, which was as relaxing as some illegal drugs might be to others. You feel one with the universe, you feel a real and true part of nature around you. You hear the birds awaking, nature comes alive, and you’re an integral and equal part of it now. No expectations, no judging, no stress, no worries—except getting caught. Just be.
As the sun rises, you feel its warmth on your bare skin. You can’t appreciate it or even judge it if you haven’t felt that. You are a part of a greater whole, and you belong. There and then, you are accepted.
To a non-nudist, you are probably not accepted. If anyone sees you, the atmosphere will change from light to darkness. Disapproval, rejection, even anger.
And yet, deep inside, I wanted to be seen so it could feel normal. But I knew that that wouldn’t be the response of anyone seeing me then. Being caught would have caused me to feel like a sick weirdo, because that is what was projected into my mind by my upbringing, and that would have been the reaction of any outsider probably.
The limits of privacy
So all of these experiences can be considered as private nudity, alone or with your partner. That alone is already a great liberation of the mind, letting go of the endless expectations that our society imposes upon us all. It feels as a relief to be able to let go of this, and do what you want within the confines of your privacy.
After a life of being productive in my job, being a parent, helping care for our household, being useful—for the first time I felt like I was able to just think of myself and my needs. And not just any needs, but needs that I won’t even share with just anyone.
And even that gets to be so normal that you yearn for more. But what is more?
The next logical step is public nudity. Oh my. 🪐
Editor’s note: This essay is part two of a three-part series by Catherina, exploring how nudists and non-nudists experience nudity differently. Part three is coming soon. You can find more of her writing on naturist life on her Substack: https://kath62.substack.com/
Read parts 1 & 3:
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We’re moving towards the time of year when I look forward to some outdoor nudity here in the North of England, although first thing this morning it was pouring with rain and the temperature was 3°C (37 °F). There is only one house that significantly overlooks our garden and some of that view is blocked by vegetation. If I’m sunbathing, then I try to sit it places where I can’t easily be seen but if someone gets a glimpse somehow then I’m not bothered. I’m not sure about just walking around anywhere in the garden, particularly as one of my neighbours is a girl in her mid teens. Hopefully the plants will grow a higher and the gaps will grow smaller in the next year or two.
Catherina, you really captured the essence of what it feels like to venture outside for the first time. The excitement of doing something outside the norm, and the thrill of possibly getting caught. After a while, I truly wondered what was the big deal. It’s all about comfort, the freedom to choose how I dress or don’t, and feeling more a part of nature than passing through it.