My Life and Times as a Nudist

Shocked, are you? Sorry to disappoint you about my goody-two-shoes image that some of you may have about me. Can you forgive me? It was all in my past, you see, and it was so long ago. I was the same person then as you’ve come to know now, only younger, naïve, and oh so innocent back then.

Without further ado, here’s my story.

For almost three years, I was a nudist. But before I became a nudist, I was this spoiled city girl—a daddy’s girl—who lived in a house with modern amenities like indoor plumbing and electricity. You have to understand that in the Philippines at that time, some 40-odd years ago, this was living well above the poverty level.

Unfortunately, all that changed when my father died. My mother had married my father when she was only fourteen years old. (They had to lie about her age, saying that she was sixteen, so the Catholic Church would marry them.) Other than owning her own businesses, that my father had financed, my mother never worked for anyone during her entire married life. Unfortunately, due to her being illiterate, every single one of her businesses had shortly gone bankrupt within a year or two. Therefore, when my father died, she had no marketable skills. In short, she had no means of supporting us, her three youngest children. (There were nine of us, and I was the youngest.) My much older, married siblings offered to take us into their homes.

I had just turned seven years old when my father died. Six months after his passing, I went to live with my oldest sister and her family in one of the most remote mountain regions of the Philippines, where my sister and her husband taught school.

When I first arrived there, I was shocked to see people naked, bathing and swimming in the river. I’d never seen naked people before, aside from seeing my own body when I was showering in privacy. I’d never gone swimming before either, so I didn’t know how to swim. I also didn’t have a bathing suit. In the beginning, I just observed everyone. Then I went wading in the river with a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Kids there thought I must be crazy or something. All eyes were on me each time they saw me in the water fully clothed. When I eventually learned how to swim, I found out that wearing my t-shirt and shorts made swimming much more difficult. They were dragging me down. My niece, who is two years older than I, went swimming naked, and so did all the other kids our age. I decided to become one with the natives; I had to adapt to their lifestyle.

Even at my young age, I felt embarrassed to be naked, even, amongst the throngs of other naked people. I felt so self-conscious and uncomfortable. However, the feelings didn’t last for very long, because then, the other kids didn’t pay much attention to me anymore. To them, I was just another nude body. I didn’t stand out in the crowd anymore. So, for the almost three years that I lived there, I was a nudist.

You’re probably asking yourselves what the adults did, eh?. Well, from what I recall, the native adult, married women would normally be dressed in their woven wrap-around skirts with no tops on. I don’t think that they wore underwear, either. I know what you men out there are thinking and imagining. But go ahead, it’s a free country. Just don’t be blaming me for any ill/good effects of your thoughts and wild imagination. You’re on your own on that one.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, I was talking about the women. Anyway, when the women took their baths, they’d go to one of the more secluded areas where there were a lot less people. They’d unwrap their skirts, being careful not to show their pubic hairs to anyone, especially to adult males, by repositioning one leg. (Just in case there were any adult males out there in the bushes, peeping…I wouldn’t know.) Once they put their skirts neatly on the ground, they then put their hands over their pubic area as they walked to the river until they submerged their bodies in the water waist deep.

Come to think of it, I don’t recall seeing adult males taking baths where we bathed. Perhaps they took their baths somewhere else. I’ve never seen my sister go swimming or taking a bath in the river, either. I remember her taking baths in the makeshift bathroom outside of their house, using the water that we fetched from the river well. I suppose she was too proper and modest to be one of us nudists.

My life as a nudist had to end though when I went to live with my other sister and her family in a province where nudity of any kind was considered a taboo. Also, as I became a young adult, I became aware of all the changes that my body had undergone. With that, I became overly self-conscious again, to the point that, for a short time into my marriage, I didn’t even allow my husband to see me naked! Poor man. He had to use a lot of his imagination, I suppose.

Well, that’s all folks!

If you’ve enjoyed this one, be sure to check in every now and then for more stories about my life as a native.