Beyond the Gaze

What Naturism Really Teaches Us About Naked Bodies

A recent conversation with a textile friend (that’s what we naturists call folks who keep their clothes on) turned into one of those classic moments that highlight how deeply misunderstood our lifestyle still is.

She said something like: “Okay, I get that being naked feels comfortable, no tight waistbands, no sweaty fabrics, pure freedom. But when you’re around other naked people, do you prefer looking at the men or the women?”

I kept it simple and true: “Naturism isn’t about watching naked bodies. It’s about being naked with others.”

She nodded, but pressed on: “Sure, but come on, as a man, don’t you prefer seeing naked women over naked men?”

That was the moment I had to circle back and gently but firmly explain the heart of it all.

Naturism, as defined by the International Naturist Federation (INF-FNI) since their landmark 1974 declaration, is “a way of life in harmony with nature characterised by the practice of communal nudity with the intention of encouraging self-respect, respect for others and for the environment.”

Notice what isn’t in that definition: anything sexual. No gazing, no ogling, no ranking bodies by attractiveness or gender. The practice is deliberately non-sexual. It’s communal nudity in appropriate settings, beaches, resorts, clubs, private homes, where the focus is equality, comfort, and connection to nature and each other, not eroticism.

In my years living this way, I’ve seen exactly why that distinction matters so much. When everyone is nude from the start, the body quickly stops being “a thing to look at” in the sexualized way textiles often imagine. You see young and old, fit and soft, smooth and wrinkled, every skin tone and shape. Bodies become normal, functional, human, not objects of desire or comparison.

That normalization is powerful. Credible studies, including research published in journals like Psychology Today and shared by organizations such as the American Association for Nude Recreation (AANR), show that regular participation in non-sexual social nudity dramatically improves body image, reduces body shame, and increases overall self-acceptance. People stop fixating on flaws because they realize no one else is flawless either. The gaze softens; judgment fades.

So, back to her question: do I “prefer” naked women or naked men?

The honest answer is neither in the way she meant. As a sexual being (because yes, naturists are still fully human with attractions, desires, and appreciations), I can find beauty and marvel in the human form, male or female. A strong shoulder line on a man who’s spent years working out, the graceful curve of a woman’s hip as she walks into the sea at sunrise, the quiet strength in an older body that has lived fully. These are aesthetic and human appreciations, not sexual targeting.

In a naturist space, though, those appreciations stay in their proper place: quiet, respectful, non-intrusive. Staring, leering, or turning nudity into a pick-up scene breaks the core etiquette and gets called out fast. The environment stays safe and desexualized precisely because everyone agrees to keep it that way.

What emerges instead is something deeper and more liberating: the simple joy of existing as a body among bodies, without hierarchy, without performance, without clothes signaling status or role. Men and women alike become just people, laughing at the same bad volleyball serve, sharing sunscreen, chatting about the weather or philosophy, equal in vulnerability and freedom.

That’s the magic my friend hadn’t yet seen. Naturism doesn’t erase sexuality from life; it simply removes it from the social nudity equation so something purer can shine through: acceptance of the marvelous variety of human bodies, regardless of sex or gender.

We get to celebrate them all, the rugged, the soft, the aged, the youthful, without needing to categorize or prefer one over the other. Every body tells a story of life lived, and in naturism we get to witness that diversity with wonder instead of lust or judgment.

So if you’re ever in that conversation, feel free to borrow this: Yes, human bodies are beautiful. Male, female, and every body in between. And naturism lets us enjoy that beauty in its most honest, non-sexual form, simply because we’re all here, bare and equal under the same sun.

Get Nude, Stay Nude, Live Nude and Share the Nude Love!