Anxiety and naturism

Previously on this very newsletter;

Could I test my brain by going to that beach and seeing how my brain handles walking around naked? A wild idea that, realistically, I’ll probably never be brave enough to try, but I feel less anxious thinking about that than I do swimming with jellyfish.

It’s a hot sunny day in North Wales, and I’m standing by a sign that says “Nudity permitted”. Dare I? Can I? There are people here. It’s not like skinny dipping alone in a lake in North Wales. Everyone will see. At any minute all my clients could walk past and gasp. Despite my brain defaulting to “You can’t”, I indeed do.

I am now completely naked, nude, bits to the wind starkers on a beach. No one screams. The official naturist area, which is official only to prevent the Mrs Lovejoys of the world from screaming “Think of the children!”, is about a mile long. I say official because officially, you can be naked anywhere in the UK as long as it isn’t to provoke outrage. If someone is outraged, then you can be arrested. A wild notion. If others are outraged by someone peacefully being themselves, then that person can be charged. I would have an epic criminal record if that applied to my skirt-wearing. Thankfully, it doesn’t, yet... So the “official” zone is only there to tell others to calm down. It’s a tiny mile-wide zone of try acceptance rather than outrage. I am naked in it. Everyone can see my tiny zone.

A mile walk, on the sand, takes about 25-30 minutes, and so I wander. The beach is a mix of clothed and unclothed people. I make it a point to walk a socially acceptable distance past people to tell my brain that it’s OK. Amazingly, it is. Nothing is said. No reactions. Everyone is calm. No one sneaks a photo of me or does a side eye as I walk past. To be doing something so shocking, in my mind, and have no reaction is surreal. If I wear a skirt and go outside, people will rubberneck, side eye, stare and take photos of me. But not here, where the sun is both toasting my buns and burning my Welsh rare bit. Wild.

Is this heaven? Have I found a pocket utopia inside this absurd world we live in? No. While seemingly a safe space, it might feel safe only because my male privilege is showing. It might feel different if I were a woman. I can’t judge genders from bodies only, but would guess there are roughly 80% male and 20% female people here. That must be an intimidating space to walk around naked in. I find it a little odd.

I reach the end of the naturist zone and decide to take some self-portraits. While doing so, a man comes over and strikes up a conversation. As I’m chatting, I realise I’m not anxious. I should be because we’re both completely naked, and yet I’m not. I’m not worried about whether my shirt has sweat patches from being anxious, nor am I worried about whether my bum looks fat in my pants. I’m just there, chatting.

Now I’m OK at chatting to strangers for a short time. It’s when they become someone I know that the social anxiety kicks in. What was their name? What context do I know them in? What did we talk about last time I saw them? Knowing people is hard work. Over the years, I’ve learnt it’s better to be 100% me all the time to everyone than to be this version of me for some and another for others. But it’s still a challenge to know people. While chatting to this stranger on the beach isn’t chatting to someone I sort of know, we are naked, and so I should be anxious. It’s fascinating that I’m not.

If you remove the worry about how I look in clothes, about how I appear to others, then my anxiety drops. The social rules are clear here. There’s no unwritten rule on what you can or cannot wear. No performative clothing trends on display. No worries about whether I can wear something or not. It’s just people.

The environment helps too. It’s a beautiful beach. Warm with the sound of waves lapping at my feet. I’m not subjected to the same sensory overloads of the human world. It’s not busy here. My mind isn’t busy. I’m not in the way, taking up space or having to try and calculate the possible actions of everyone around me so I can plan for it. I’m calm because the world is calm. Why can’t my world always be calm? Maybe I would be calmer?

All in all, I spend around 3 hours naked at the naturist beach. I’m naked for anyone to see and strangely calm. My Garmin says my stress level is the lowest of the trip. I find this easier than trying to make breakfast amongst people I see once a year in an unfamiliar holiday home. My autistic brain makes times like that so complex. “Where is everything? Oh crap, I have to ask someone for something. Social awkwardness. Is this shared food? How much is shared? What do I wear to breakfast?!” So many questions. None when I’m naked on the beach.

The experience leaves me wondering, what now? How is this useful information? I can’t work this way on jobs. “Is there parking, a beach and nudity?” I would assume that in a work context, I would still feel stressed. The beach is too far away for it to be useful as a calming space that I can nip to when stressed. What use is this knowledge? I am comfortable naked around others, knowing that it is a judgment-free space. Just as I am in queer spaces, or sci-fi conventions in cosplay or going outside before the world has woken up. It’s almost like 90% of the world is not for me and is actively harmful to me, and I need to dart between safe spaces to maintain good mental health and be productive. Except that’s impossible, so I need to work on managing my daily anxiety and autistic sensory issues to function better in these complex spaces. Maybe my anxiety is stopping me from living because I’m always worried about being judged? Is that victim shaming? Or maybe it means nothing more than I enjoy naked walks on a quiet beach.

Whatever this is, the experience was the opposite to swimming with harmless jellyfish 2 years ago. I was on the verge of panic attacks and could only paddle about at the edge of the lake in case I needed to get out. Yet here I am wandering around naked on a beach with absolutely no anxiety. Huh.

Links

• Barbara Hulme is looking for some more fabulous disabled people. I'm a disabled artist and am looking for disabled people, with chronic health conditions and/or mental ill health, neurodiversity, to work with me on my ongoing art projects. My aim is to empower disabled people by painting sympathetic portraits of us mainly in watercolour.
• Helen talks to Louise Butcher — Women in Focus. Louise Butcher, the "Topless Runner", shares her powerful story of battling health anxiety and overcoming lobular breast cancer. Discover how Louise's determination led her to advocate for a double mastectomy without reconstruction, challenging societal norms and fighting the stigma surrounding breastless bodies.
• "There's No Separating My View of My Body from My Autism": A qualitative study of positive body image in autistic individuals - PubMed. While scholars have investigated positive body image across diverse populations, extant theory largely excludes those with differing socio-cognitive experiences, such as autistic individuals.
• Benign masochism of naked swimming brings us closer together.
• Overcoming Social Anxiety Through Naturism. Social anxiety, that insidious feeling of dread and unease in social situations, plagues countless individuals. It whispers doubts, fuels self-consciousnes...
• The naked truth – research finds nudism makes us happier. Taking part in naturist activities can help make us significantly more satisfied with our bodies and lives, new research from Goldsmiths, University of London has found.