2025

A brief history

I have been a naturist since my teens, but I kept it hidden for a long time, and now I feel like I’m ready to go public.

When I was younger (maybe at the late stages of puberty, 17-19), I started to feel like I was more comfortable when I was naked, but at that time, I was very shy and not confident at all, so I hid my naturist side.

I would only be naked when nobody else was in the house, and there were a few times when I almost got caught and had to run through the house and up the stairs to my room.

For a long time, I would only be naked in the house alone. In my early 30’s I plucked up the courage to go to a nearby beach that I had read online was an unofficial naturist beach, still on my own.

Now, in my 50’s I have finally joined a naturist club where I am happy to say I practice naturism with other naturists

Over the years, I have taken many photos of myself. I will post some of them here over the next few days and then post new ones as I take them

Now I am proud to say I am a naturist

My take on naturism

 Everyone has their own reasons for practising naturism, and sometimes it is difficult to describe, but I’m going to try.

In the beginning, I suppose it was probably a puberty thing. I was a late bloomer, and around 16-19 years old, so my body had been changing, and I began to feel excited about my new adult body.

I would be naked as much as possible, and over time, I became comfortable this way. Wearing clothes felt heavy and restrictive, but I was a very shy person, and my self-confidence around others was low, so I hid my naturist side.

Over time, naturism has become more about honesty and being natural, like every other creature.

Honesty

By being naked and seeing myself naked, I have become more honest with myself about who I am.

I am definitely not a male model. I am not ripped or overweight, but somewhere in between, maybe I will say sturdy.

My penis is average by UK standards, which is fine. Penis size does not define a man. Character is way more important.

I’m ginger-haired, which was a rare thing when I was young, and I was often made fun of because of it.

This led to the shyness and lack of confidence mentioned earlier. By being naked a lot, I grew more accepting of my hair colour, whether it be on my head or other parts of my body, it really didn’t matter.

I am just an average person and don’t pretend to be any better than I am. I definitely don’t pretend to be better than other people. Naturism has taught me that without clothing, we are all equal.

Natural

Every other creature on Earth lives naked, and it has no negative effect on them. They live through all kinds of weather and environmental conditions without problems. We like to think we are above them, but biologically, we are the same. Our body has its own heating and cooling system, and it adapts to whatever is around us. Clothing gets in the way of this system, making us soft and disconnecting us from the planet around us. Naturism has shown me that my naked body is quite capable of being warm in winter and cool in summer, and my skin has grown stronger where needed to protect itself. Clothing is mostly unnecessary.

Current day Me

Now I am in my 50’s and my shyness is gone. I’m still not much of a talker, but I am confident about myself, who I am and what I can do.

I am ready to be honest and stop hiding my naturist side, and I am happy for people to see me just as I am.

I found this on a blog site

The Myth of More – How we got lost chasing comfort and status

I often go for a walk with my dog, the light filtering through the leaves as we wander without hurry. She trots ahead, sniffing the earth, while I feel the ground under my feet, fully naked, unburdened by extra layers or gear. In those moments, I sometimes think how often we chase “more”—more stuff, more status, more comfort—only to feel weighed down. It’s a story I’ve lived myself, and one that echoes across so many lives.

The myth of “more” whispers that happiness lies in accumulation. We’ve been sold this idea that bigger homes, fancier clothes, and endless gadgets equal success. But where did this come from? It didn’t start overnight. Back in the 15th century, during the Renaissance in Italy, early consumerism emerged with trade bringing luxuries to city-states, turning goods into symbols of status. Fast-forward to the 1920s in America, when mass production and advertising exploded, making “buying” a lifestyle. After World War II, economies boomed on the promise of endless growth, with ads convincing us that more possessions meant more fulfilment. Yet, as studies show, this pursuit often leaves us exhausted, disconnected from nature and each other, trapped in a cycle where comfort becomes clutter and status steals our peace.

Let’s break this down step by step. First, consider how “more” crept into our daily choices. In urban apartments or rural homes, we fill spaces with things we rarely need—closets overflowing with clothes bought on impulse, gadgets gathering dust. I remember my own shift: sorting through a wardrobe full of items I thought defined me, only to realise they hid my true self. Second, this chase isolates us. Rich or poor, we compare ourselves online, young folks scrolling for validation, elders reminiscing about simpler times—all feeling the pressure. Third, it harms the planet: overproduction fuels waste, from fast fashion polluting rivers to gadgets mining rare earths. But here’s the turn—sustainable living flips this script, offering joy through less. Imagine ditching excess for bare essentials, feeling the freedom of a light backpack on a hike or an uncluttered room that breathes.

Naturism accelerates this joy. Going bare isn’t just about shedding clothes; it’s shedding the myth itself. In my experience, moments without layers reconnect me to the basics—sun on skin, wind’s whisper—reminding me that true comfort comes from within, not from stores. This isn’t exclusive; whether you’re in a high-rise or homestead, starting small—like a naked morning at home—brings that same reconnection for anyone.

Philosophically, rethinking the good life means seeing sustainability as a gift. Our ancestors lived lightly, clothed for need, not show. Today, in a world of excess, choosing less restores that harmony—for all of us, across ages and means. It’s not sacrifice; it’s reclaiming space for laughter, connection, and the earth’s quiet rhythm.

So, what about you? Peek at your own life—where has “more” weighed you down? Try letting go of one thing this week, and notice the freedom. Share your thoughts in the comments; let’s start this joyful journey together.

Read the full version here The Myth of More – How we got lost chasing comfort and status – Nude and Happy