I have a little confession. It’s not one that will shock particularly, I’m sure we all do it occasionally, but I love being naked. I mean love it. We all have days when we jump out of the shower, we’re warm wrapped in a towel and we just, laze about. We drop the towel and head downstairs, make a good old cup of tea, sit and read the paper, dry our hair and pamper ourselves, maybe we do the household chores.
This I find quite a regular occurrence, in fact I avoid getting dressed if at all possible. At Uni I spend 60% of my time in my room and 58% of that time, will be naked, or in pants, busying myself doing whatever. I can be writing an essay, having a chat with someone, tidying or just sitting. I just love the feel of the air on naked skin.
There is something about being naked that feels totally free. My figure isn’t perfect by any means but that doesn’t matter. It’s not attention seeking or anything, I’m not popping to the shops naked after all, but its liberating. I’ve always wondered if I’m a naturist at heart. Whether I should explore that side of myself further.
I am tempted to the do the naked london bike ride, be liberated, see how it feels. My issue with Naturism is simply that, one its sort of, forcing nakedness and nudity down people’s throats if not contained in specific locations, and, its kind of an older generation thing. What young people, my age, 22, want to walk around naked?
There are enough guys and girls who drunkenly happily take their clothes off, flash, walk along with their arse hanging out of a far to short skirt, but soberly, to show the world yourself, in its truest form, without hiding behind anything? That’s something else entirely. I think I’m a little bit of a hippy at heart. I hardly ever wear shoes, I walk around the city without them on, on pavement or sand or dirt, I like the feeling of your feet touching the surface your on, having contact. Its grounding, makes you feel very much there, rather than separated from nature and your surroundings.
Don’t get me wrong, like everyone in this world I conform to the social norms, I wear shoes when appropriate (after bare footing the underground, this is somewhere there needs to be a separation) I wear clothes to cover myself up, and not dressing like a slut either. I havent got my cleavage on show, my legs out, have my back and my arms all at once. I’m quite conservative with it all. But maybe that’s the thing.
Conservative at heart and my nudity is a rebellion from conformity, from being straight-laced, from being, restricted. Maybe I’m a free spirit, a wannabe hippy, or maybe I’m just a girl so comfortable in her skin, she doesn’t feel ashamed to cover it up – at least when she’s by herself.
Erudite Reflections 