Nudity is natural, but so is being considerate.
This post is part of my Daily Naturist Living series, a personal exploration of how naturism weaves into my everyday routines—at home, in the garden, on the move, and yes, even during chores or coffee breaks. It’s not about escaping to a resort (though I love that too)—it’s about how living naked, when done with intention and respect, can shape daily life for the better.
I live nude. That’s not just something I say—it’s how I show up, day in and day out. At home, I’m naked. In the garden, I’m naked. When I write, cook, read, or water the tomatoes—I’m naked.
But sometimes, I grab a robe.
Not because I’m ashamed. Not because I’ve suddenly changed my mind about naturism. Simply because naturism isn’t about stubbornness—it’s about comfort, confidence, and yes, consideration.
Ding-Dong…
You know that moment: you’re deep in a naked task—vacuuming, gardening, stretching in the sun—and the doorbell rings. Maybe it’s a delivery. Maybe it’s a neighbor returning a spade or looking for eggs.
I’ve got a sarong or robe always within reach. Not hidden, not shamefully tucked away—just there, waiting. If I need it, I grab it. If not, I carry on.
The beautiful truth? My neighbors know I’m naked most of the time.
They’ve dropped in unannounced, they’ve seen me tending the garden, and they’re not shocked. If anything, they’re used to it—and I’m grateful for that. There’s mutual respect. I don’t flaunt. They don’t stare. We just live.
But when the situation calls for it—when I sense it’s the respectful thing to do—I throw something on. Quickly, easily, casually. No fuss.
It’s Not About Rules—It’s About Rhythm
Naturism isn’t a contest in who can be naked the longest. It’s not a game of “you’re not a real naturist if…”. That kind of rigidity doesn’t interest me. I didn’t choose this lifestyle to box myself into a new uniform made of dogma instead of denim.
I chose it because it makes sense. Because it feels right. Because it allows me to live fully, comfortably, authentically. And that includes knowing when to cover up—for the mail, for the plumber, for that one new neighbor who might need a moment to adapt.
I’m not dressing up—I’m just adapting. Temporarily.
Being Naked Doesn’t Mean Being Oblivious
Living nude in a clothed world means learning to read the room—even when it’s a doorstep. Sometimes, being a good naturist means grabbing the robe, smiling, and showing that nudity isn’t oppositional—it’s optional.
Naturism is Freedom. And Freedom Includes Choice.
Covering up for a knock on the door doesn’t make me less of a naturist. It just makes me a naturist who understands that respect, context, and connection matter.
I’m not dressing for them—I’m undressed for me.
And when I do reach for the robe, it’s not defeat.
It’s just good timing.
Do you ever cover up?
What’s your robe routine? Do you stash one by the door or stay proudly bare? I’d love to hear how you balance nudity and social norms.
Share your “robe moments.” Let’s show that being naked and being considerate go hand in hand.
Get Nude, Stay Nude, Live Nude and Share the Nude Love!
I have a sign on the front door that says “Nudist Inside” so very few knock. Even Jehovahs leave their literature but don’t knock. In a couple of rare cases, I’ve pulled on an old kilt — the same one I use in my front yard. After that warning sign, however, I’m really free to do what I want.