BrianA 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.
Naturist Vs Sex
I was thinking about writing a post about how being a naturist does not mean being anti sex
However, this story tells it better than I can.
Can You Be a Naturist and Enjoy Porn? A Conversation We’ve Avoided for Too Long
Disclaimer:
This article explores the intersection of naturism and sexuality, including the topic of pornography. Some readers may find this discussion uncomfortable or challenging. The intention is not to shock, judge, or prescribe behavior, but to offer a safe, thoughtful space to consider how naturism and private sexual interests can coexist.
The Question That Opens a Door
It arrived quietly, the way delicate questions often do. A friend wrote to me asking whether a naturist can enjoy porn. Not as a provocation. Not as a confession. Just a simple question wrapped in a tremor of vulnerability.
I immediately sensed what was behind it, not guilt, but uncertainty. A feeling that his private life and his naturist values might somehow collide. As if admitting that he likes porn would make him a “bad naturist,” or worse, reinforce the tired myths people attach to social nudity.
My answer was yes.
But a single word can’t hold a topic this misunderstood.
The Weight Naturists Carry
Anyone who has walked the naturist path long enough knows the burden that floats around us. Because society tends to sexualize nudity, naturists become hyper-aware of how they are perceived. We spend decades clarifying, educating, correcting misconceptions. And when you spend so much time explaining that naturism isn’t sexual, it’s easy to start believing that naturists themselves must be spotless, desireless, free of anything that could be labeled erotic.
Over time, a strange silence forms. Pleasure, desire, and fantasy get tucked away, not because they’re inappropriate, but because we fear they will be misunderstood.
This silence doesn’t make us better naturists. It just makes us less honest.
Two Rooms in the Same House
Porn, sex, and eroticism live in the room where desire stretches its limbs. Naturism lives elsewhere: in the room of simplicity, sunlight, comfort, and community. They are different rooms, with different atmospheres, different expectations, different rules.
Walking into one doesn’t erase the other.
The calm of a sunrise naked walk isn’t tainted by the fact that the same person may explore erotic content in their private life. And enjoying porn doesn’t magically inject sexual meaning into a naturist beach where everyone is simply sharing the quiet pleasure of being human without clothing.
Naturism loses nothing by acknowledging that its practitioners are full human beings.
The Fear Behind the Question
When my friend asked if these two worlds can coexist, I could feel the deeper concern:
Is it safe to be whole here?
Is it safe to say I am both a naturist and a sexual person?
For many, naturism becomes a refuge from judgment. The last thing they want is to bring anything into that refuge that could make them feel vulnerable again.
But the vulnerability already exists. We just rarely speak it aloud.
I’ve heard countless naturists whisper similar questions around campfires, during late-night conversations, or in private messages. They speak softly, as if they’re revealing a secret, when all they’re doing is describing ordinary human experience.
When Boundaries Become Clarity
The real issue isn’t whether naturists enjoy porn. It’s whether we know how to distinguish private sexuality from shared non-sexual nudity.
Most naturists do this effortlessly. The boundary is already there: what happens in your personal erotic life belongs to you. What happens in a community naturist environment belongs to everyone, and therefore follows the rules of respect and non-sexual behavior.
The problem isn’t the existence of sexual desire. The problem is pretending naturists shouldn’t have any.
If anything, honest boundaries make naturism safer, clearer, and more welcoming. Newcomers relax when they realize naturists aren’t trying to deny their humanity — just create spaces where humanity can breathe without expectation or pressure.
Making Space for the Whole Person
The long-term health of naturism depends on this honesty. If we ask naturists to amputate parts of themselves — their desires, their fantasies, their sexuality — we aren’t cultivating body acceptance. We’re creating a sanitized illusion.
Naturism is richer when it includes whole people, not edited versions.
My friend’s question gave me hope, because it showed a desire for openness. He wasn’t trying to redefine naturism. He was trying to understand how to be authentic inside it. His instinct was right: naturism doesn’t need us to be pure; it needs us to be real.
So… Can You Be a Naturist and Enjoy Porn?
Yes. Completely. Peacefully. Without guilt.
You can lie on a naturist beach and feel the breeze on your skin, knowing that later, in the privacy of your home, you might explore your erotic imagination through porn. One experience doesn’t stain or diminish the other.
They belong to different emotional landscapes. They coexist because we do.
And if naturism can’t make room for the full human being, then it’s not a philosophy of freedom anymore — it becomes another place where people feel the need to hide.
I don’t want that. And I suspect you don’t either.
Naturism should remain a place where honesty feels safe, where bodies feel welcome, and where humanity — the whole messy, sensual, curious, beautiful spectrum of it — doesn’t need to hide in the shadows.
Get Nude, Stay Nude, Live Nude and Share the Nude Love!
See the original post here
See my adult page here
The science bit
Another great article from another website
Why Being Naked Feels So Damn Good: The Hard Science Behind Non-Sexual Nude Comfort
As a long-term naturist, I feel much better when I’m naked. Discussions with many naturists confirmed I’m not alone. However, we often wonder at this feeling and may sometimes question it.
Non-sexual nudity feels damn good for very real physiological and psychological reasons, that science backs, as I’m going to tell you.
- Thermoregulation: Your body’s built-in AC works perfectly when it’s naked. Skin is your largest organ and your primary cooling system. Clothing traps heat and moisture, forcing your body to work harder. Nude individuals reach thermal comfort faster and maintain it at lower energy cost than clothed ones in the same environment. Your 2 million sweat glands and vast network of skin blood vessels can dilate and evaporate sweat instantly when nothing blocks them. That’s why stepping out of a hot shower into the air, or lying on a bed with no sheets, feels like pure relief.
- Tactile freedom: Your entire somatosensory system lights up positively. Every square inch of skin has mechanoreceptors that love gentle stimulation—light breezes, warm sun, cool grass, water droplets. Clothing constantly gives low-grade, monotonous pressure. Remove it and you get rich, varied, ever-changing touch input that the brain interprets as pleasurable. Research on “affective touch” (C-tactile fibers) shows this kind of slow, gentle stimulation triggers oxytocin release and activates reward centers the same way a loving caress does—except it’s your whole body getting the massage 24/7.
- Reduced chronic micro-stress from waistbands, seams, bras, socks, collars… Tight or even “normal” clothing creates constant low-level compression and friction. Over years this adds up. Military personnel and nurses who switched to loose or no uniforms during downtime showed measurable drops in cortisol and perceived stress. When one ditches clothing, the sense of relief is almost euphoric, like removing a pebble from your shoe you didn’t realize was there.
- Vitamin D and microbiome benefits that feel good in real time. Full-body sunlight exposure spikes vitamin D synthesis way beyond what arms and face can do. That rapid increase feels subtly energizing and mood-lifting within minutes (yes, the effect is that fast). Plus, letting air and sunlight hit all your skin keeps the cutaneous microbiome healthier—fewer rashes, less odor, less itching. Healthy skin = comfortable human.
- Psychological load drops instantly. Clothes carry social signaling stress: “Do I look fat? Is this wrinkle visible? Did I choose the ‘right’ outfit?” Strip and that entire mental track shuts off. FMRI studies on body image and social stress show that nudity in safe, non-judgmental settings dramatically reduces activity in the dorsal anterior cingulate cortex—the part of the brain that freaks out about social evaluation. Experienced naturists literally rewire their brains over time to feel calmer naked than clothed.
- Proprioceptive freedom. Your brain gets cleaner feedback about posture and movement when nothing is binding or tugging. Yoga practitioners and dancers who train naked universally report better body awareness and fluidity. That physical ease translates directly into a sense of joy.
Put all these together and you get a constant, low-level “yes” signal from your nervous system. No wonder long-term naturists feel slightly irritable the moment we have to put clothes on for the outside world—it’s like turning off a pleasant full-body hum.
The science just confirms what we’ve felt for decades: the human body was designed to be naked most of the time. Clothes are the occasional tool, not the default.
Get Nude, Stay Nude, Live Nude and Share the Nude Love!
Read the original post here