To the woman who types for the first time, “I am a Naturistin and I have posted some photos but I am scared”—here is my advice after 183 entries:
Entry No. 183 almost didn’t happen. Because I have been sitting on a draft for three weeks—a post titled “On Posting Less.” In it, I confess that I sometimes tire of the performance of naturism. The carefully angled photos that show the landscape, not the anatomy. The explanations. The disclaimers. The perpetual defense against the assumption that naturistin is a synonym for exhibitionist.
I have posted some things I regret. Not because they were lewd—none of them were—but because they were curated. A true Naturistin, in the philosophical sense, does not curate. She simply is. And yet, the online space demands curation. The lighting must be soft. The background must not contain clutter. The pose must be unposed.
That is the paradox: Naturism is the rejection of artifice, but posting about naturism requires artifice.
Drawing from the implied wisdom of this 183rd post, here are key rules for anyone considering starting a similar blog:
To bring this concept to life, here is a fictional passage written in the style of such a blog:
“Entry 183.
I have posted some things this year that the ‘me’ from Entry 1 would have found unthinkable. Not explicit acts — never that. But I posted a photo of myself laughing while completely bare, standing in a stream in the Black Forest, my stretch marks visible like river routes on a map.
I posted a story about how my teenage daughter asked if she could bring a friend to the FKK club. I said yes. Then I posted the conversation we had afterward — her friend’s shock turning into curiosity turning into ease.
I posted a list of ten places where a solo female naturist can feel safe. That list got shared over 3,000 times. It also got me three death threats.
So why continue? Because naturism without testimony is silent. And silence, in a world that sexualizes every bare breast or penis, is defeat.
I have posted some of my imperfections. In return, I have received thousands of messages from people who finally feel seen. That is not exhibitionism. That is ministry.
Next week: Why I will never post a ‘naked yoga challenge’ video, no matter how many followers ask.”
After 182 posts, certain patterns emerge. Here is what I have learned about sharing naturist content online, whether on a blog, a closed social media group, or a dedicated platform like Naturist Corner or TrueNudists:
This style is common on:
To the woman who types for the first time, “I am a Naturistin and I have posted some photos but I am scared”—here is my advice after 183 entries:
Entry No. 183 almost didn’t happen. Because I have been sitting on a draft for three weeks—a post titled “On Posting Less.” In it, I confess that I sometimes tire of the performance of naturism. The carefully angled photos that show the landscape, not the anatomy. The explanations. The disclaimers. The perpetual defense against the assumption that naturistin is a synonym for exhibitionist.
I have posted some things I regret. Not because they were lewd—none of them were—but because they were curated. A true Naturistin, in the philosophical sense, does not curate. She simply is. And yet, the online space demands curation. The lighting must be soft. The background must not contain clutter. The pose must be unposed.
That is the paradox: Naturism is the rejection of artifice, but posting about naturism requires artifice. A Naturistin -183- I Have Posted Some- Naturist...
Drawing from the implied wisdom of this 183rd post, here are key rules for anyone considering starting a similar blog:
To bring this concept to life, here is a fictional passage written in the style of such a blog:
“Entry 183.
I have posted some things this year that the ‘me’ from Entry 1 would have found unthinkable. Not explicit acts — never that. But I posted a photo of myself laughing while completely bare, standing in a stream in the Black Forest, my stretch marks visible like river routes on a map.
I posted a story about how my teenage daughter asked if she could bring a friend to the FKK club. I said yes. Then I posted the conversation we had afterward — her friend’s shock turning into curiosity turning into ease.
I posted a list of ten places where a solo female naturist can feel safe. That list got shared over 3,000 times. It also got me three death threats. To the woman who types for the first
So why continue? Because naturism without testimony is silent. And silence, in a world that sexualizes every bare breast or penis, is defeat.
I have posted some of my imperfections. In return, I have received thousands of messages from people who finally feel seen. That is not exhibitionism. That is ministry.
Next week: Why I will never post a ‘naked yoga challenge’ video, no matter how many followers ask.” “Entry 183
After 182 posts, certain patterns emerge. Here is what I have learned about sharing naturist content online, whether on a blog, a closed social media group, or a dedicated platform like Naturist Corner or TrueNudists:
This style is common on: