I feel like I'm leading a double life, but practising nudism makes me feel so free

My journey into nudism began in 2015 during a casual visit to a friend’s apartment. We lived in the same neighbourhood; Neha was newly married, and I was 27 and single. I would visit her often, and one day, finding the front door ajar, I walked in ready to lecture her about leaving the door open. As I entered, I was shocked to find her completely nude. Even more intriguing was how cool and nonchalant she appeared. As Neha opened up about her naturist lifestyle, my curiosity was piqued—I wanted to know more.

From then on, our meetings were crowded with all kinds of questions, which she answered openly and honestly. She wasn’t shaken by any of them, but one seemingly simple question of hers shook me: “Why don’t you try?” Her words hung in the air, carrying a mix of curiosity and trepidation. I was nervous, but the absence of judgment made me feel safe. I gradually undressed, and as each piece of clothing dropped to the floor, it felt like shedding layers of societal expectations and self-imposed restrictions.

As I stood there, completely bare, a rush of vulnerability washed over me. I was exposed, yet I felt a profound sense of freedom for the first time in my life. The cool air on my skin, the absence of barriers between my body and the world around me—it was an exhilarating revelation. My initial shyness melted away, replaced by an unexpected surge of confidence and liberation.

Neha’s presence was reassuring. She smiled warmly, her acceptance radiating through the room. We continued our conversation, but this time, there was a deeper connection, an unspoken understanding. I felt alive, empowered, and more in tune with myself than ever before. It was a moment of pure authenticity, a glimpse into a lifestyle that celebrates the human form in its most natural state.

Soon, it became a regular practice for Neha and me to hang out in the nude. One day, she mentioned that some of her friends from Kolkata were staying with her for a couple of days, and invited me to meet them. Being sociable by nature, and keen on making new friends, I eagerly accepted. Little did I know, they were planning to enjoy their time together in the nude. You could say this was my first nudist meet-up.

People often use the terms nudism and naturism interchangeably. While I don’t see much of a difference either, some argue that nudism is largely a preference for living without clothing, while naturism involves a deeper connection with nature and practicing nudity in outdoor spaces like naturist beaches and resorts.

Naturism has significantly improved my relationship with my body. Initially, being naked gave me a sense of liberty and freedom, boosting my self-image. However, after having a baby, and going through bodily changes, like a sagging belly, I struggled with confidence. I had to remind myself what my naturism practice had taught me—body positivity is inclusive, with no room for discrimination against any body type. To fully embrace this philosophy, I began promoting nudism through my social media page to encourage body positivity among people with low confidence.

Today, I’m a homemaker living with my husband, young daughter and live-in domestic help who has been with me since childhood. After getting married, I had expressed my fondness for nudity to my husband, despite my friend’s warning not to mention my naturist meetings. According to her, no man would find it acceptable for his wife to meet other men in the nude. But I wanted to be open with my husband. I began spending time naked in his presence, and he was completely comfortable with it. But one day, when I showed him an article about nudism, he didn’t respond as positively. Since then, I’ve had to keep this aspect of my life private.

I feel like I’m leading a double life, but practicing nudism makes me feel incredible. It’s also become a part of my identity—many people online (and a few offline) know me as The Great Indian Naturist or Ribs of Man, a name inspired by the creation story in the Bible, where God creates Eve, the first woman, from the ribs of man. I deeply resonate with this image of Eve, naked, empowered and unashamed.

However, misconceptions about nudism still persist. For instance, many people equate it to sex, sexuality and kinks. There’s an assumption that nudists are promiscuous and open to all kinds of sexual experimentation. I’ve been propositioned for sensual massages, approached by lesbians and couples seeking sexual encounters, and even met men who wanted to be my ‘slave’. But being a nudist has nothing to do with sex, and it can be challenging to make people understand that.

Practising naturism in India often feels like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. On one hand, Indian culture boasts a rich history of nudity, evident in our ancient texts and temple art. On the other hand, modern society has adopted more conservative views and laws. However, there are certain pockets of society where naturism is gaining traction. These communities often function with a sense of inclusivity and mutual respect, creating safe spaces for individuals to express themselves freely (read more about the nudism community in India here). While naturism might not be widely accepted, it should have a place in our society.

Personally, I have found my community; we call ourselves ‘Indian Naturist Members’. We connect on Telegram and organise meet-ups, usually at an apartment that we rent out. People often reach out to me, saying, “I want to become a nudist like you, but I don’t know anyone else who is.” I tell them that finding a community isn’t essential for being a nudist. If you’re comfortable being nude in private, start there. Enjoy that privacy. Gradually, if circumstances permit, you can venture deeper into nudism at your own pace.

At our meet-ups, I often use a cricket analogy. Just as everyone enjoys cricket differently—some play it casually on their phones or school grounds, others represent their country professionally, and a few become legends like Sachin Tendulkar or Virat Kohli—nudism also spans a spectrum. You can enjoy it privately in your home, organise large gatherings or lead global naturist communities. Though my journey is ongoing and there are still days when I struggle with my reflection, I take pride in reaching each level.

Practising nudism has taught me that body positivity isn’t about perfection. It’s about embracing and loving your entire self, just the way you are. And motherhood, with all its trials and triumphs, has given me a new mission: to spread the message of self-love and acceptance, highlight the beauty inherent in each body, and emphasise how every change it endures is a testimony of strength and resilience.