A trip to a nude bathhouse in South Korea changed how I view my body
Shed my inhibitions and my underwear
It’s hard to find a woman who has never felt the pressure to fit into a visual ‘ideal’ and has a happy relationship with her body, irrespective of size. I went from being skinny to ‘chubby’ in my early teens, and soon realised that I would continue to be a size L for a long time (even today).
As someone who is passionate about food, whether it’s visiting the newest Asian restaurant in town and trying the coolest cocktail bars, I often find myself attempting to eat mindfully. A period of restraint usually leads to dropping some weight, only to have it all come back as soon as I stop. While there are days when my size doesn’t bother me too much, most times, I find myself basing my entire self-worth on whether or not my stomach is popping out in an outfit. This, of course, translates to body image issues that creep into and negatively impact several areas of my life.
Until, a certain activity on my last holiday altered my perception.
Stepping into a Korean bathhouse or jimjilbang
A few months ago, I travelled to South Korea with my cousin sister. After weeks of researching, discovering must-dos and charting out our itinerary, we headed for a 10-day trip across Seoul, Busan and Jeju Island.
Spa Land Centum City, a Korean bathhouse or jimjilbang, was listed as a popular tourist attraction in Busan. Since Korean spas and saunas have a fantastic reputation, we decided to check it out. Spa Land is one of the most luxurious jimjilbangs in the country and this one was inside Shinsegae Centum City, the largest department store in the world according to the Guinness World Records.

We paid about ₹2,000 per head (the minimum fee) for a four-hour session at the Korean bathhouse. First, we were assigned a ribbed bracelet with a waterproof key to a locker where we left our shoes. Next, we were each handed a set of pyjamas and a T-shirt (which we assumed were meant to be worn throughout) and asked to proceed to the bigger lockers. We walked into a 1000-locker space populated with women, some with their clothes on, most without. This didn’t particularly feel weird, since my sister and I were clothed, but it definitely wasn’t something we expected.
Navigating spa etiquette
It only takes an hour in South Korea to understand how real the language barrier is, and we had been there for a week. Understandably, we had trouble navigating our way through Spa Land. While there are a few instructions posted in English, spa etiquette is a whole other ballgame, and something you have to figure out on your own if you haven’t Googled it before.
I placed my belongings in the locker and looked around to find a big glass door that led to 22 different thermal sauna pools and jacuzzis. As excited as I was to see those, what I also saw was over a hundred women sitting stark-naked in those pools. That’s when my sister and I realised that your underwear is a no-go, and we need to completely strip to get in.
We looked at each other, wondering if we were comfortable enough to actually go through with this. YOLO was the deciding factor, and we did. We realised that we were actually most uncomfortable seeing each other entirely disrobed.
The naked truth
Before we entered the pools, we had to wash up in the public showers—I’d never imagined I would be bathing right next to my sister with no partition whatsoever. I saw women of all shapes and sizes, multiple nationalities and age groups, all experiencing the thermal spring water in unison. What felt like something that would make me feel conscious and isolated was instead freeing and oddly comfortable. Once I stepped into one of the pools, within a couple of minutes, all my feelings of discomfort went away.
I spent over two hours there, moving from one pool to another (some over 40 degrees celsius, some slightly under, and some cold water pools), and trying the pressure jets made to target different body parts. Think of this complex as a maze where multiple pools either share the same wall or are intertwined.
When you’re around so many naked bodies you can’t help but steal a quick glance, what surprised me the most was the realisation that no one really has the ‘perfect’ body. Even if someone may seem outwardly fit by societal standards, the right underwear and clothing contribute a whole lot to their shape.

Underneath, literally and figuratively, someone who is a coveted size S may have stretch marks, breasts that aren’t perky, saggy skin, a butt that isn’t as lifted as it appears—and all of that is real and okay. Being around so many real women, not filtered or airbrushed, made me feel that much better about my body, which has its own share of imperfections, as does everyone else’s.
According to Ayushi Shah, a Mumbai-based therapist, what we see and consume around us significantly impacts how we perceive ourselves. “In our society, we often face intense pressure to conform to unrealistic body ideals, driven by media, comparisons, and comments from those around us. This pursuit can distort our self-image, [which is] rooted in low self-esteem and experiences of judgement,” she says.
An experience like the one I had in the jimjilbang disrupted the visual lens through which I was seeing the world. “Embracing body diversity through exposure to various body types, like in a nude Korean bathhouse, can foster acceptance and normalise the spectrum of human forms,” explains Shah. “Cultivating a healthier body image involves appreciating our bodies for their functionality, celebrating diversity, and shifting focus from appearance to gratitude for what our bodies can achieve. This approach can help dismantle harmful standards and promote body positivity.”
On returning home
When I chose to visit a place called Spa Land, the last thing I expected to gain was insight into my relationship with my body. But that’s what happened, and I will always be grateful for it. I will still probably try to go back to mindful eating, and say no to that extra drink, and I may not love my body as much on a lot of days. But the realisation that perfection is far from reality for all body sizes will remain with me for a long time. And, of course, my shape or size doesn’t define who I am; it never should have.




