My Naturist Epiphany and Naturist Story Part 1: Challenges To Becoming A Nudie

Guest blog by: Wayne Brake
My name is Wayne, but this really is a pseudonym I feel compelled to use because motives. To not sound glib but we do live in a really clothed, erclosed-minded society where naturists and naturists are persecuted, especially at work. I know for a fact that if I came out as a naturist to my family and friends they’d probably try to perform some sort of gymnophobia-flavored intervention / exorcism on me. *le sigh*
My Naturist Epiphany
I am in my mid-forties and I Have been a practicing naturist for about five years now. I say “practicing” because I’ve been a naturist at heart since my early babes. Back then when my parents went away for a weekend I Had regularly flog off all my clothes and would not put em back on until I heard their car pulling back into the driveway.
Reflecting on this now I recognize how healing this was. I was a skinny, shy, self-conscious youngster who grew up in a Catholic family that unequivocally linked nudity to sex and shame. Consequently, I grew up with some pretty crippling body image issues. I could not even bring myself to wear short pants and t shirts in public. Even during the hottest days of summer I’d be bundled up in jeans and long-sleeved shirts, constantly flirting with the danger of heat prostration.
It wasn’t until I reached my thirties that I became vaguely comfortable in my own skin. With that came a renewed interest in naturism. I remember seeing St. Maarten back in 2003 and wrestling with an overwhelming desire to jump off the tour bus, tear off my clothes and join all of those happy-looking naked people frolicking on the plage at Orient Bay. But since all of my fellow travellers were laughing and giggling like schoolgirls I kept my internal frolicker tightly muzzled.
A few years later I learned that there was a clothing-optional beach only a short drive away from me. One Sunday day I guided my wife and a close friend out that way for a hike. I roughly understood where the naked beach was and I deliberately led them to the outskirts, fantastic on gaging their reaction to this.
BIG FREAKIN’ MISTAKE, incidentally. The moment we got within line of sight of a single nude guy standing predominately on a tall stone my friend, who has exceptionally poor eyesight, took this opportunity to pipe up.
“Wow,” he said. “I have never been so happy to be blind in my entire life.”
Undeniably funny, yes, but it made me think: Why do you feel so threatened by this? Do you believe he’s suddenly going to run over here and begin doing gratuitous squats in front of you?’

That’s when I understood that our modern day attitudes towards nudity are still grossly misinformed by Victorian and Puritan influences; influences which unequivocally equate nudity with sex, shame, deviance and a distinct lack of “decency.” Really, North Americans suffer from more body horror problems compared to the typical David Cronenberg movie.
Afterward, in 2007, I visited a friend in Vancouver. To test the waters again I asked him to take me to that world-famous naturist Mecca, Wreck Beach. He instantly responded very violently to my request:
Oh, no! Trust me, you don’t wanna go there. Not the sort of folks you wanna see naked, ifyouknowwhutI’msayin’.”
Um, ooookay,’ I thought to myself. Just how can I describe this to him? I don’t wanna see other people naked, I wanna be nude. I wanna be totally immersed in the components minus the weight of a wet, chilly, clingy swimsuit. I do not want any obstacles between me, the surf, the sand and the sunlight. I just wanna commune with Mama Nature in the only method which makes sense in .’
But given his palpable hostility I quickly lost the subject and moved on. * Strike two*
Even though my ideas were getting bolder, I was still a very long way from taking the plunge into nudism myself. While camping at a local provincial park, I Had sometimes swim out into deep water, whip off my swim trunks, bob around for a bit, and then put my shorts back on before heading back to shore. Quietly I needed nothing more than to wade out of the water nude and wander along the sand in relaxation, all the while working on my all-over George Hamilton-fashion tan.
Baby steps, I understand, but it felt fantastic and it only made sense to me.
But it’d take a few more pivotal experiences before I became a full-fledged, card-carrying nudist. And the impetus for this would come from a wholly unexpected source.
Click here to read Part 2 of ‘My Naturist Epiphany’
About the author: Wayne Brake is a nudist writer and activist. You can take at his naturist-friendly blog ‘In NatureNaturally’ right here:
Young Naturists & Naturists America
Tags: body image, body shame, naked beach, sexuality
Category: Naturism and Naturism, Nudist Blog, Social Nudity Sites
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