“Babe! Turn around!” I twisted my body, smiling for the picture. That’s when I decided to experience something different, even if I had to coach myself through the process. I turned back around, the chilly breeze flowing past my face. My first visit to a nude beach already felt like a different experience than I anticipated.
Standing at the edge of a cliff, I took in the view. The ocean stretched out before me as far as my eyes could see. I breathed in the cool air, feeling the wind push past my ears as a small shiver ran down my spine. Frustration began to burn inside me. As I pulled out my phone and opened my camera, I started coaching myself through those intense feelings.
I reminded myself, You can choose to be miserable, or you can choose to enjoy the experience for what it is.
I continued my self-coaching as I hit record and slowly started panning the camera to capture the endless shoreline below.
The point is, you made it, Bitch. It only took you all summer, but you got here to your first nude beach. Revel in that!
I’m not someone who handles less-than-perfect experiences well. Our recent trip to Disneyland is a great example of that. While I posted about the trip in real time on social media and took way too many pictures, I didn’t talk about the experience afterward. Not publicly, and not much privately either. I felt a lot of disappointment, though I won’t get into the reasons right now.
I learned something important from that. When I let frustration take over, I don’t enjoy the experience as much in the moment. I also can’t enjoy the memories later. I think this way of thinking goes back to my Christian upbringing. The church taught me to think in binary terms. Things were either right or wrong, Heaven or Hell, lost or found. It’s crazy how often this mindset shows up in my life. Even here at my first visit to a nude beach, it was present.
Satisfied with my footage, I turned back to Mr. Sexy and we started making our way down the steep incline. Loose dirt kicked up around my ankles like dust. I felt relieved I wore my blue church sneakers instead of my new white ones. The tall, brown cliffs surrounded us, and I could hear nothing but the sound of waves crashing. I took small steps, worried that I might slip and slide all the way down.
My goal for my first visit to a nude beach: focus on the beauty of the moments as they come.
By the time we reached the bottom, I had accepted that my first visit to a nude beach would be on a cold summer day. I wore jean overalls and wished I had brought a warmer sweatshirt.
However, I didn’t expect what happened next. As I turned the corner, I came face to face with waves that were twice as tall as me.
“Oh my gosh, it actually feels warm!” I exclaimed.
I couldn’t quite understand the change in temperature. At the top of the cliff, a chilly breeze constantly blew by. But down here, with the protection of the cliffs, the ocean seemed to push warm waves forward and up and down the shoreline.
Needless to say, I didn’t wait long to drop my overalls, revealing the cheeky bottom of my bodysuit. However, I didn’t undress completely yet. We still had a bit more to hike to reach the actual nude part of the beach.
At this point, some nerves started to kick in. This didn’t totally surprise me, though. It wasn’t my first time being naked outside and risking being seen by others. When I lived in the country, I used to play a little game of “chicken” with the farmers. As they slowly drove by on their combines, I’d quickly try to cover up.
Sometimes I think my life in the country gave me my first taste of exhibitionism. I loved being naked outside. And I secretly enjoyed the idea of getting caught too. Is it cool I said all that?
So, getting naked at the nude beach didn’t bother me. I actually looked forward to feeling the ocean breeze flowing past my thighs, tickling my labia lips as it moved through. I also knew Mr. Sexy would be watching me, and my nipples would harden in response to the fresh air.
My first visit to a nude beach fulfilled fantasies and desires I once kept hidden and locked away. Until this visit, I hadn’t realized certain kinks had always been part of my sexuality. I just hadn’t given myself permission to explore them. It may sound strange, but for me, it’s true. The conservative Christian narratives run deep in my psyche. Doing something like visiting a nude beach, whether I had my clothes on or off, is one way I’m breaking free from that old toxic way of thinking. So far, the result has been a lot of fun and freedom with my body, in my body, and around my body.
Coming up next: Watching all the naked people, and all the naked people watching me.
