We visited a naturist campground yesterday.
It was, as expected, a good experience. Other than a new appreciation for sports bras, I did not miss any clothing. I felt like my three-year old, who thinks the point of clothes is to decorate and not cover. Like I’d gone back in time to that place where you aren’t conscious of your body- where your body is something that allows you to do things instead of hindering you.
It was not sexual at all, almost as if we only sexualize ourselves by wearing clothes. People (read: old men) looked more at my face and less at the rest of me than I’m used to. No one looked away in embarrassment when I fed the baby.
Bodies are beautiful. Scars from surgery were plainly visible- several of the women were breast cancer survivors. And it was beautiful.
Several of the women, and one of the guys did cover up most of their bodies. They were the ones it was hardest to talk to. I’m guessing that they were there because their spouse wanted to and less of their own initiative. Or maybe they sunburned easily.
It was a very diverse community with all sorts of people, but still a close and welcoming group.
We will most definitely go back.
