I feel the need

The need for nude

Reading and writing about naturism, I started to wonder where the urge to be naked came from. And why doesn’t everyone have this same need? Or do they?
Is it a sexual thing, about arousal? It used to be, for a very short period during puberty. I guess it was about the excitement of doing something that wasn’t common. But it is much more than that. The sexual dimension about nudity has long gone, except in the bedroom.
So that’s not it.
Does it have to do with my upbringing, my youth?
If so, then what triggered it in so many others that had a less traumatic youth?
And why is it different for my brother and my sister? Or is it?

My youth and upbringing

I grew up in a toxic environment, my father being abusive and sometimes violent. We were often shouted at, degraded, humiliated, and sometimes even beaten or kicked. I recently discovered that I have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, which causes me to react quite differently to the outside world than others do.
I grew up with violence, emotional manipulation, unpredictable behaviour, threatening, in short: no safety at any time. Which doesn’t really sound like an incentive to go naked, does it?
Not directly.
From what I learned by reading about this subject, my nervous system was on constant alert, deciding between fight or flight depending on the situation at hand.
I coped by searching for the exact opposite of what I was exposed to: calm, nature, predictability, having something that was mine (my body).

My first experiences

One of the ways that I realized this was by going fishing. On Sundays, I woke before 5 in the morning, made some coffee, then took my bicycle with my gear and venture out in the dark of the early morning, to a pond in an nearby village. I had my breakfast at the pond while waiting for the sun to rise, then I started fishing as it became light. This was an almost spiritual experience for me, every time again. And I preferred to do this all alone by myself, not a living soul nearby. I didn’t realize it at the time why I was attracted to this, it was just something that came natural to me.
At some point, I somehow got the idea to undress while at this pond. It just felt like the thing to do. It just fit the scene: quiet, calm, nature. It felt authentic. I fit in. There was no one to judge, to watch, to reject me. It was me, alone, in a natural state, unrestricted, one with nature. This was my safe place.

In being nude, I found what I was looking for: calm, grounding in nature, lack of unpredictability, having something that is really mine, my own body. I coped through my body. Alone, naked in nature, I retreated to the core of myself. Alone with my body.
At home, attention was always abusive and intrusive. At the pond, I was away from attention. I didn’t need a public. I didn’t have a public. And I didn’t have a public. (or so I thought) A friend of mine once claimed that he saw me naked at that pond. I denied this of course, but he couldn’t have invented this, so he must have seen me. We never talked about it again. I did feel shame about this at the time, and I was afraid of being mocked endlessly about it (which didn’t happen, luckily).

I even remember summer nights when I would sneak downstairs, undress in the garage and wander around outside near our house, while everyone was asleep (or so I sure hoped). In those days, the streets were empty at night, so I sometimes dared to wander onto our street, blissfully unaware about the actual risk. Sometimes I would stay outside for half an hour or so, taking in the experience to the fullest.
On one such occasion, I saw the light come on in the house, someone being awake and maybe just getting something in the kitchen. I anxiously waited outside, naked and afraid, hoping that my stack of clothes in the garage wouldn’t be discovered. I anxiously waited until the house went dark again and I could sneak back to my room. I remember asking myself why I took such risk of getting caught, whether it was worth it. Of course it was; now I know.
At home, there were many restrictions. We weren’t allowed to do or say a lot of things. Did I associate clothes with restrictions? I sure felt totally free when nude, it felt so liberating in every way. I couldn’t understand it, I felt shame about it, but I couldn’t resist it. The shame was culturally induced; I wouldn’t have dared sharing my experiences with my friends or family, out of fear for rejection or humiliation. I do wish I could have had a friend to confide in, someone that I trusted, that had the same mindset as me, but I didn’t. Maybe there was such a friend around me, but I didn’t know it.

Possible motives for nudity

It is counter-intuitive, but I found safety in vulnerability.

So notwithstanding, I appeared to find safety in nudity, whereas being “caught” with what I considered a quirk at the time would have gotten me into trouble, like being ridiculed by friends (which is the gravest risk at that age). It is counter-intuitive, but I found safety in vulnerability.
My body was something that was completely mine. Unmodified, no performance, no hiding, authentic, real. Clothes are used as a performance, clothes are a sign of poverty or wealth, subject to taste and preference. My body was mine, no one could show up with the same body as mine, I was unique, they could not take it away from me.
But, more importantly, nobody could control it. Nobody could command me to grow larger breasts, of shrink my butt, or get taller. This was mine, and mine alone. My father could cause harm to my body, but he could not command it or take it away.
And maybe I wanted to be proud of something of mine? Because that’s what I feel now, and what I didn’t realize at that young age. See me, hear me. I’m not invisible.
Because that’s how I felt in my youth, invisible, negligible, unworthy, unnecessary, worthless, unloved, unlovable.

It was also a sensory experience. Feeling the wind, the sun, water on my skin calmed me, soothed me. I learned that PTSD/PTSS causes fear or aversion of strong sensory experiences, like loud noises, large crowds. And that is what I feel to this day.
Being nude, then and now, is the exact opposite to me. Reliving nudity at my age has changed me fundamentally. It made me accept who I am. And having people see me naked gives me the feeling that they accept me too.
I also learned that I am highly sensitive, which might not be a standalone thing in light of what I just described. Feeling the water streaming along your naked body is like a supernatural body massage to me, it calms all of my nervous system, it calms my brain. Feeling the warm wind that dries my body resets my feelings and makes me forget all the worries and the bad things from the past.
When I wear a bathing suit, I tend to worry about the shape of my body, especially my tummy. Removing the suit removes those worries. So showing what you are unsure about removes the insecurity. You proudly show it, making it worth seeing. Not hiding it inherently improves its value. Being among likeminded people with similar unperfect bodies, and not afraid to show those, gives the ultimate feeling of acceptance. Acceptance of one’s own body, of others seeing that body, of other bodies, of the world around you. You are part of something, you are accepted in that community, you are fine, you are beautiful as you are. You are worthy. You are visible. You are loved.

The siblings

But then the main question is still unanswered. My brother and sister grew up in exactly the same toxic environment, and yet they don’t show the same attraction to nudity as I. They must have the same traumas as me, no doubt. I haven’t even dared touching this subject with them, as they always were more conforming to cultural norms.
I have always detested conformity, even as a child. Not just out of stubbornness for the sake of stubbornness. But If everyone liked black, and I liked red more, I wasn’t going to say that I liked black too, just to fit in. If I did like black, I said so, and thus conformed by chance. That attitude will surely have helped to ignore cultural bias or pressure when it comes to things like naturism. Being a lesbian woman isn’t exactly conforming either, and it sure isn’t a choice, as some choose to believe.
My siblings are totally different in that regard. They always followed trends, fashion and hypes. They want and do fit in, and they are comfortable with that. So maybe even if they have any naturist tendencies, I’m not sure at this point whether they would follow those, it is clearly not the norm in our society. It might well be that either of them would also prefer naturism, but afraid and ashamed to give into it. A couple of months ago the subject of skinny dipping came up when we were having a drink with my brother and his wife. I really wanted to talk about the subject, but I noticed my wife signalling me not to. She also is different in her attitude towards cultural norms, but was able to bend this into a gesture of pure love towards me and join me in the adventure. She did open up to our daughter about our recent nude adventures, but that’s about how far she’s willing to go with this.

So back to the core question: why have I always shown an attraction to nudism, and my siblings, who were raised in exactly the same toxic environment, not?
I think the reason is that my upbringing didn’t cause my tendency for nudism, at best it amplified the existing need for it.
And we reacted very different to the challenges of our environment.

• I would have a tendency to “fight” (not physically of course) my father, fight for what’s right. I would never back down, not even when he would physically abuse my brother to get me in line. That has to do with a high need for authenticity, for fairness, the truth. And that translated into wanting to live my life according to what I believe in, what I feel, what I want. I married a woman, I practise naturism and public nudity.

• When my father was out of order, I would tend to call him out on it, with the risk of physical abuse. My brother and sister would rather dissociate and go into hiding (flight), ignoring the situation.

• As such, they became invisible, while I don’t want to be invisible, as it depresses me.

So my conclusion is that I only put into practise what was already there. I didn’t become a nudist. I put in practise the things that felt right for me, that lifted my spirits. Being nude at sunrise near the water, by the sounds of nature around you awakening is the sort of spiritual experience that would heal any trauma.

If you’re not open to non-conformity, your fear over this might be bigger than your need for nudity. Your need for conformity will trigger shame about your unusual needs.
For quite a while I was convinced that something was wrong with me. Whenever the subject public nudity came up, people around me responded with disbelief and even disgust. “Eek” “Why would you want to do thàt?” “Sick people”
It did make me unsure about myself, I beat myself up over my attraction to this. I made the same reasoning mistakes as the others, deducing that nudity is wrong, something for perverts and weirdos. I too succumbed to peer pressure.
My wife tolerated my need for nudity, and we didn’t shy away from nudity with our daughter, but I didn’t even dare bringing up the subject of public nudity for quite a long time. I even stopped being naked in the house when she was home. It wasn’t even shame maybe, I just didn’t want to upset her or make her uncomfortable. I was clearly unsure about nudity and my need for it. I felt abnormal, awkward, weird, as nobody else seemed to feel the same.

The urge

In short, I do have some pointers as to why nudity makes me feel better, what it does to me and why it may be different for me than for others. But what about this urge for nudity? What does it actually mean?
An urge isn’t the same as a need (“I need this to feel good”), or a value (“I support nudity”). An urge is like a signal from my body, like the urge to take a deep breath, or to stretch my body. My body associates nudity with a set of positive things, like mentioned above. Just like when my body sends me the signal of being tired, I will have the urge to lie down and rest. And when I’m over-stimulated by a loud and busy crowd, I will feel the urge to seek silence.
Now I just need to find out what triggers my urge for nudity.
My nervous system learned that nudity equals safety, regulation, and authenticity.
The safety need stems from the abusive youth and upbringing, which brought a lot of unpredictability. Being nude somehow takes away the unpredictability, because it is me controlling the situation.
In that sense, it will regulate me, as it takes away disturbing external factors.-, like constraints, or roles that I am expected to fulfil, expectations. I take control, I am just myself, nothing more, nothing less.
The authenticity is almost self-explanatory. This is me, I’m not hiding anything, I’m not pretending. It is me, including all flaws and imperfections, scars, wrinkles and everything. When I put on a nice dress, heels, makeup, it feels like a performance. It feels nice too, but surely not authentic. I can feel sexy in nice clothes, but I feel real, and attractive because of that, when I’m naked. I am more at ease with the authenticity than with the performance. I feel like I have nothing to prove when I’m naked. No pressure.
And somehow, my body remembered this. So just like the other urges that we all have, sometimes I get this signal from my body to return to this state of wellness.

Apart from this urge, there is also a longing for freedom. I felt this strongly last summer, when we worked around the house. Being able to get out of bed naked, having breakfast naked, then going outside and work naked gave an unprecedented feeling of freedom, liberation from the restrictions of society in our daily lives. Just the fact that I could do this gave my joy. Relaxing on our porch behind the house, inviting a friend, having diner, watering the plants, having a shower, going to bed, while not having to bother with clothes…it doesn’t get any better. And my body will remember that too. Sadly also during winter, when we can’t do all of those things.
But at least we can cuddle up by the fireplace, with a good book….

Puberty

All things mentioned here link my urge for nudity with the mental and physical abuse in my youth. And then it struck me. That abuse only started when I was about ten or so. And I can’t even remember having the urge for nudity before that age. Before that age, I didn’t care too much about my body, I was very neutral towards it. It didn’t have any meaning, any emotional value whatsoever. I didn’t like or hate it, I was totally indifferent about it. Had the other children undressed before swimming, for instance, I would probably have undressed too, and I would have thought totally nothing about this.
In fact, I only developed interest in my body when puberty approached. When we went swimming in school, we used to change into our swimsuits in private booths. Was it peer pressure that induced shame about nudity for me? I can remember being interested in nudity and at the same time being afraid to undress in front of my school friends. I think that the peer pressure made me afraid of being considered weird or awkward by my friends if I were to undress before them. Nobody did that, so I didn’t either. At that age, you just want to fit in, no matter what. Even the non-conformist in me didn’t want to be an outsider. And when I think about how our daughter also had a different attitude towards nudity during puberty, it makes sense now.

Adult life

Much later, at the beginning of my career, I developed a conflict with my boss. At a certain point, emotions got very high and we talked it out during a very confronting meeting between just the two of us. We decided to join up and form a small badminton team with a couple of colleagues. It was great fun, years before the term teambuilding was even invented. But after the match, we went to the showers, and to my surprise my boss didn’t mind showering naked. I didn’t really hesitate and joined her. This time the peer pressure was the other way around, but it didn’t take me long to succumb to it, now as an adult. And I remember it felt great. Especially as she didn’t seem in any way hesitant or disturbed by us being naked together. We came from shouting to each other to showering together naked in the course of a couple of days. To me, it was an eyeopener, but still I didn’t do anything with the experience outside of these dressing rooms.

Around the same time, we went for a camping trip in Germany, and one evening I went to the showers to discover that it was an open shower room, men and women together, children, everyone was naked. I didn’t hesitate for one minute, undressed, hung up my clothes, and joined all these strangers. It did feel liberating, again, but I didn’t think too much of it.

Again years after that, different job, and this time it was yoga during lunch break. After the first session, we hit the dressing room and showers, and without hesitation, one of the female colleagues undressed and wandered around naked. She even had a short chat with us, unashamed, undisturbed, naked, waiting for a shower cabin being available for her. I wasn’t really shocked in a negative way, rather in a positive one. It that were today, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second and join her, no doubt. But why couldn’t I do the same back then? Why was I still hesitant and afraid? I had dreamed about this for years now, and there was my chance, a golden opportunity. I might have been afraid of some sort of rejection, but this time someone else took this initiative, and nobody reacted to it at all. It would have been the perfect situation, but still I didn’t jump on the occasion. I was afraid. She might have grown up in a naturist environment (she looked so relaxed), who knows? We never talked about it, as it didn’t seem to be an issue for her, so I would have felt awkward addressing this with her.

Other people

It now makes me wonder how many people have this same urge, or even interest, and afraid to talk about it to the outside world? In my short nudist career I already had two examples where people appeared to enjoy nudity too.
The first was my dear friend who I called at the beginning of summer, and I confided my little secret. She immediately jumped on the occasion and told me (not really surprising to me, given her free spirit) that she has been enjoying this for ages already, and that she wanted to join me gladly in exploring this.
Another example was at the end of summer, in the office, where a male colleague wondered why people bothered with swimsuits (he is an avid sailor), which I quickly and happily confirmed. And I didn’t notice any surprised or shocked faces around me.
So, who knows how many of us there are, still “in the closet”?

Which brings me to the opposite side of my linking the urge for nudity to the abuse from my childhood: not all nudists and naturists experienced abuse or trauma during their childhood, did they? If not (which I really hope), what is the trigger with them? Is it also a need for safety, for predictability and such? Maybe it is a consolidation of a good connection that they already had, with themselves, with nature? Or maybe they grew up in a naturist environment?

Please share in the comments if you recognise what I have written here, how it resonates with you. I am really interested to learn how it is for other nudists and naturists, how and where it started, if you experience the same urge as I described. I love reading your stories, I love recognising the same feelings I have. And I would be very curious to what triggered nudism or naturism for you.