Throughout this series, we’ve explored the roots and essence of joy, its daily cultivation, the barriers that inhibit it, and the role naturism plays in nurturing it. Now, I want to turn to something different, my personal story.
Stories humanize everything we’ve discussed. They give flesh to abstract ideas and provide a personal lens into how naturism touches lives, elevates spirits, and anchors people in deeper joy. In this article, I share firsthand experiences about how I have found happiness and healing through shedding my clothes and reconnecting with myself, others, and nature.
I’ve shared parts of my own journey throughout this series and this blog, but it’s worth stating again: naturism has not just been a lifestyle for me—it’s been a source of profound and consistent joy. Whether it’s the quiet power of getting naked after a long day and stepping outside for a breath of cool evening air, or spending an entire weekend without clothes, immersed in calm and presence, the joy naturism brings is layered and constant.
One of the most enduring sources of joy in my life has been writing and exchanging stories with fellow naturists—learning how others see and live nudity. There’s a kinship, a quiet thread of understanding that runs through our words and experiences. That sense of shared meaning brings joy that’s hard to describe, but impossible to miss.
Let me dive deeper into my own story here, because if we’re talking about joy through naturism, it’s not just theory—it’s lived truth, etched into my bones from a journey that began a long time ago, on a beach in Croatia. But a few years later, as I was deep into my professional life, picture this: I was caught in a corporate grind, suited up like armor every day, chasing deadlines and status in a world that felt increasingly hollow. Joy? It was a fleeting visitor, showing up in rare moments but never sticking around. I was disconnected—from my body, from nature, from the simple act of being alive without pretense. That’s when naturism crashed into my life, not as a hobby, but as a lifeline. Or more accurately, that’s when I summoned naturism into my life.
It started small, almost unassuming. I stopped wearing swimsuits while bathing in my backyard pool. The sensation of water gliding over bare skin was a revelation—no fabric clinging, no barriers. It was just me and the water, pure and unfiltered. That simple act sparked something. I felt lighter, more present. Research from psychologists, like those at the American Psychological Association, supports this—studies show that non-sexualized nudity, like in naturism, reduces anxiety and boosts self-esteem by fostering body acceptance.
The real depth came when I took it further, stepping into nude hiking and jogging. At first, it was just short trails near my home, heart racing not from exertion but from the thrill of freedom. Each step, with earth underfoot and air on my skin, felt like reclaiming a part of myself I’d forgotten. The joy was raw, almost primal. Then, I started my blog, pouring my experiences into words and sharing them with the wider naturist community. The response was electric—stories poured in from others, each one a thread weaving a tapestry of shared liberation. That connection, that sense of belonging, amplified my joy tenfold. The Journal of Happiness Studies backs this up, noting that community and nature immersion enhance well-being, and nudity strips away the artificial divide between self and surroundings.
One pivotal moment stands out, a story I rarely share but one that crystallized joy’s permanence in my life. A year into my newly found naturist path, I visited my first nudist resort. It was a revelation. I arrived nervous, unsure of what to expect, but within hours, I was transformed. Wandering trails bare, swimming in the pool, sharing meals with strangers who became instant kin through our shared nudity—it was like stepping into a world where pretense didn’t exist. On the second night, during a group bonfire under a starlit sky, I felt it: a profound sense of wholeness. Tears came, not from pain, but from release. The joy that followed rooted itself deep. Studies from the International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health echo this, linking naturism to improved mental health through enhanced body positivity and social bonds.
From that point, naturist joy became my default. Naturism taught me actionable steps to cultivate it: Start simple—dedicate 10 minutes a day to nude mindfulness, like standing barefoot on grass and breathing deeply. Build community—join local naturist groups or online forums to exchange stories, as the British Naturism organization recommends for fostering belonging. Challenge barriers head-on—when body shame creeps in, counter it with affirmations rooted in experience, reminding yourself that nudity normalizes the human form, as evidenced by surveys from the Federation of Canadian Naturists showing 80% of participants report higher life satisfaction.
These aren’t just tips; they’re my roadmap, proven through years of living it. Naturism didn’t “fix” me—it revealed the joy that was always there, buried under clothes and conventions. And that’s the beauty: it’s accessible, transformative, and joyfully rebellious against a clothed world that often forgets how to feel alive.
My story is not a rare exception—it echoes the voices of many who’ve embraced naturism as a deeper way of living. It tells us that joy is not some unreachable state. It’s available to us in the simplest of ways: in presence, in freedom, in authenticity.
By sharing these stories, we celebrate the real people behind the ideas and remind ourselves that joy is never far when we choose to live naturally, openly, and fully.
If you’d like to share your story, leave a comment below. This journey is just beginning.
Get Nude, Stay Nude, Live Nude and Share the Nude Love!
