Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts

Friday, June 1, 2012

Get Naked on The Roof for Memorial Day!


It’s Memorial Weekend… Get Naked on the roof!

(Don’t Most People Sunbathe Naked with their neighbors on a Rooftop on Memorial Day?) ~=:-)

Memorial Day Weekend stirs many memories, feelings, and moods. It has so many meanings for so many different reasons. Aside from the Actual meaning, and the reason for this American Holiday, it has seemingly taken on more of a celebration long weekend. It has become the unofficial “Beginning of Summer”. It has become a time for Travel, Sunshine, Vacations,  BBQ’s, Family Gatherings, or any number of other things people can celebrate on a three-day weekend. (And I am in no way attempting to gloss-over the significance, and meaning of this day. There are plenty of things written about that, and you are welcome to seek them out at your leisure. This happens to be about My Life, and some of the important events which have made me who I am.)

As each person makes plans, they often are reminded of some wonderful events in their own lives that have special meaning associated with this Holiday. I would be surprised if this Holiday had memories of sunbathing naked on a rooftop with their neighbors for most people in The U.S.

Yes, I happen to be one of those who just the mention of Memorial Day makes me smile, and wish I was still living in Virginia… and Naked on the rooftop!

As memorial weekend arrives, I am reminded of the time a several neighbors and I decided to sunbathe naked on the roof of our apartment building… And all the wonderful events that happened as a result.
This happened in May of 2006. I arrived in Charlottesville, Virginia in September of 2005. It is a long story, but I pretty much just ran away from life as I had known it in Oregon. I was on a path of destruction, and simultaneously, a path of re-discovering who I am, and re-learning how to live. I had gone down an incredibly rough, and horrific road of life that caused the conflicts of trying to be who I really am to clash brutally with who I had pretended to be for so many years. After 24 years of hiding and not wanting anybody to ever see me naked, I finally reached a point where I came out again as the true nudist I was. I was a happy nudist until the age of twelve. Then I had to go into hiding. I lived a life of being a secret nudist until I was 36. That was when I finally came out again. (You can read more about “My Coming out of the (Naked) Closet” Here:) http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2011/09/coming-out-of-naked-closet.html 

After a not-so-healthy path of many attempted suicides, and other destructive behavior (yes, even compared to suicide, I managed to come up with other destructions in my life… I am creative, what can I say) J But along the way, I somehow managed to discover more of what was actually positive, healthy, and made me feel alive, free, and safe! (And, Yes… I do see the irony in the fact that while trying to kill myself, I also learned more about how to live! Ya talk about a conflict in the mind, heart and soul… well, welcome to my life!)

Part of coming to accept who I was, meant facing it head-on, never denying it, and never being ashamed of it. I had to learn that for others to accept me, I also had to accept myself. I also had to learn that I would not please everyone. I had to understand that there would be risks, and often many who had been close to me would not welcome who I really was. People are funny about how they view nakedness. Some people can never accept another human simply naked, and will decide that they wish to no longer associate with you. Many people will say they accept it, but they are still very uncomfortable, and often not willing to say so, since they know how important it is to you. And, there are those who never even blink twice, or seem to notice you are naked. To these people, naked is safe, comfortable, and a normal occurrence.

In the path of discovering who I really was, and finding how to live my life in an acceptable, comfortable, safe existence meant searching deep, and taking a few risks. It also meant finding a place to live where this lifestyle would be accepted. I am not so sure I am the one who found my new home in Charlottesville, but rather, I believe it was found for me, and I was ‘led’ to it.

One day, I will write more in detail about my path of suicide attempts, and other destructions. (These, too, are not exactly easy to embrace, nor easy to put into words. Recently, though, I have found I am strong enough to actually talk again about these events in my life. )

How did I end up in Virginia? And more importantly, how did I end up at This Apartment building where I could get naked on the roof on Memorial Day? Well, the short, simple answer would be: “God.” Yup, I know, that is a short answer… but possibly not so simple. God is more complicated than anything you or I could ever wish to comprehend. I ended up in Charlottesville twice. The first time, I thought I was just passing through. The second time was because the Sheriff brought me back here.

When I knew I had exactly only 30-miles more I could travel in my car before I was completely out of gas, and had no more money to get any more gas, I looked at the map, and chose Charlottesville as the place I would abandon my car. I figured the mileage exactly, and as I parked in a parking garage, intent on abandoning the car, it was sputtering and just about to have not a drop of gas left. I chose to take the railroad tracks from there. In the next 24-hours, I managed to attempt suicide a dozen more times. Yes, attempt… as you can see, I did not succeed. God decided I was not yet allowed to die.  Also in that 24-hours I managed to hike over 40-miles. After the final suicide attempt, I was mad! I was mad and angry that I could not be allowed to die. But at the same time, I was mad and angry that I had allowed myself to get to that point. (And even though I am not going into extreme detail in this post about my attempts, do not assume they were feeble, mild attempts. The attempts I made are horrific, will chill you, and make you understand how mighty God Really is! THE ONLY REASON I Am STILL Alive is Because God would not Let Me Choose death.)  I knew instantly I had to drastically change my path, and break this pattern. I called the Sheriff to come get me.

I knew that by calling the Sheriff on myself meant I could be possibly locked-up, but I also knew it would be the sudden interruption to the path I was on. After The Sheriff talked with me a bit, He decided to take me back to Charlottesville. He took me to a lock-up ward of the Psychiatric hospital. I was there a total of only two nights, and one full day. (The events, tests, interviews, and interactions of what happened in those 36 hours are another whole story all in themselves.) They found housing for me at The Salvation Army Shelter. When they released me, I still wished I could die, and I never denied it. I made it very clear that I wanted to die, but knew I could not until God decided it was time for me to go. They thought it was very interesting how I was The Only person EVER to be released while still professing to want to die. I will not deny that, even to this day, almost 7-years later. But I knew then, and I know now, it is not something I can choose to make happen. I fully understood how much they might lock me up for eternity for these views. But they also saw the logic in my understanding. They knew as well as I did that I would not attempt to kill myself again. I would just wait until God decided it was time.

For those short 36-hours I was in the Psych ward, I was open and not at all hiding my naked lifestyle. (Yes, I had to be somewhat modest depending on others I was near in the ward.) But I also was allowed to be myself, too. I knew I had found how I needed to live, if even in a Psych Ward, they did not try to talk me out of my views, or make me hide who I was. When they sent me to The Salvation Army, I had to keep this part of who I was mostly hidden. Actually, while there, it proved to be a less-than-safe environment, so I had to just survive. I knew it would be temporary. I got a job immediately, and a coworker needed a roommate, so he invited me to move from The Shelter to live with him and his wife. At their home, I could be myself. They did not mind if I was naked. But I was still a bit unsure about my new home, and the surroundings, so I did not allow myself to be freely naked all the time. I did not worry, or try to determine if it was safe, or not. I just simply went about life without trying to make it so I could be naked, and found that when I was, it was no big deal. After a couple of months, I managed to get my own apartment. That was the freedom I needed! (Every step in the process of getting my own apartment was obviously needed, and an important part in finding where I needed to be.)
(I write in detail about this apartment and the beginnings of my freedom in this blog): “Oops! I Forgot to Put Clothes On!”   http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2011/12/oops-i-forgot-to-put-clothes-on.html 

I got that apartment in October of 2005. By the time May, and Memorial Day of 2006 came around, the entire neighborhood was quite used to naked activity. The owners, and maintenance people were also used to seeing me naked, and nobody ever cared. At first, there was only one other tenant living in the building. She was 42, and her name was Sandy. (I was 38, so we were similar in age.) Sandy and I became great friends almost immediately. (She said she had a boyfriend, but he was in jail, and even once he got out, it could be months before he decided to come visit her. I gathered he was a jerk, and she was better-off while he was not around.) Prior to meeting me, she had never found a male she could trust, or feel comfortable and safe around. Needless to say, she also had huge issues with naked, due to how most men behaved. But upon meeting me, she found comfort in both. From the very first time she met me, we felt comfortable and safe around each other. She never cared that I was naked, but she would not hang-out naked herself. A few weeks after I moved in, another tenant moved in. Lucy was a 22-year old college girl, an artist, and studying architecture. When Lucy moved in, she also met me while I was naked, and was totally excited to find another who was openly naked, and not ashamed. Her boyfriend did not understand the naked lifestyle, but he did not complain either.

Charlottesville was a college town, and my apartment building was located smack in the middle of campus. The block I lived-in was quite a mix of housing, varying from dorms, to frat houses, to sorority houses, to apartments, and even regular houses. Among these were also some of the buildings which had classrooms in them. We also had small businesses, and administration offices scattered throughout the neighborhood. It was hardly a secluded area, nor was it only one type of person who lived here. While it was a college-town, and had many building which were strictly student-housing, there were also places where anyone could rent. It was a wonderful mix of every race, religion, age, gender, and culture. It was also a very comfortable, accepting, and safe neighborhood. The area was patrolled by both The University police, And the city police regularly. As long as nobody harmed another, you could pretty much do as you pleased, and the police never worried about it. Simply naked was not at all illegal, and even when the police would come by, they would wave, smile, and sometimes chat. They liked to get to know the neighborhood, and were not there to harass anyone, just uphold the law.

This neighborhood was a hilly-section of town, so almost every building overlooked another nearby. My building was a three-story building, with a flat roof. On one side was a Frat house. On the other side was a Sorority house. In front was a University Arts building. In back were assorted student-dorm apartments, regular apartments, and assorted old houses converted into varying student housing, or shared housing by non students. Most of the buildings had balconies, porches, and windows which happened to be either close to another building, or overlooked one below them on the hill. Most of the surrounding common areas were easily visible from almost any building in the neighborhood. Needless to say, it was hardly a place with secluded privacy. But in a place where acceptance and comfort were welcomed, nobody really worried about who could see them when they were doing something outdoors, or in view of an open window.
Shortly after moving in, I discovered there was a fold-down stairway that led to the roof of my apartment building. The roof was flat, and other than a couple of Air conditioner units, and vent-pipes, it was wide-open. It was literally wide-open! It was flat to the edge. There were no rails, walls, or even ridges. It was simply a flat, wide-open area forty feet above the ground! To my mind, this meant it was The Perfect Place to relax, escape the world below, and just have a peaceful place. But I also knew that the owners, and maintenance people would not like tenants to be up there. (There would be too many safety risks, or liability issues which by law, they could not knowingly allow to happen.) But since the fold-down stairs were not locked, and they were in a public stairwell, and easily accessed by anyone who happened to be able to reach the handle that was ten feet above the floor, I decided I was allowed to go up there. There also were no signs stating to keep off the roof. And I double checked my contract, too. Nowhere in the rental contract did it state we could not go up on the roof. I just would make sure I went up only late at night, or on the weekends when I knew they would not likely show up at the building.

This fold-down staircase was located literally above, and in front of Sandy’s door. That is how I discovered it. While visiting Sandy one day, I asked what that was. She had lived there for many years, but had never noticed it. I jumped-up, and pulled the handle, and the stairs folded down. I had discovered a hidden passage!! The stairs were rickety, and only came to about five feet from the floor, so they were hardly safe, or sturdy. I was able to climb up onto them, and then go up, lift off the covering of the stairwell, and explore the roof. Sandy was not keen on heights, but she was curious. There was no way she could get up there, though, so I went downstairs and got my ladder so she could at least reach the stairs. I helped her cautiously climb up, and she was excited to peer over the edge of the opening onto the roof, but would not leave the stairs to actually go all the way up. I helped her back down, then went up again. It was November, and cold out, so I was not naked at first.

After exploring the entire roof, and loving how wonderful it was, I told Sandy I needed to do a naked dance. She told me to wait, cuz she needed to watch! (She never joined me in hanging out naked, but enjoyed the joy I found in it. She never made me uncomfortable, either… in fact it was just the opposite! She made me very comfortable when she was around and I was naked!) She was just beginning to allow herself to actually not hate seeing somebody naked, and wanting to explore this newfound freedom. I understood how much it meant for her to share in my naked joy. I went back to assist her in getting up to the stairs again, but she had decided that since it was so important for me to do a naked dance, that she found the courage to get up there all by herself! She still would not get all the way up on the roof, but got herself up to the opening where she could watch! I looked around to see if it was safe to strip. (meaning if I would be seen, or if I would freak anybody out) Ha! This roof was way more visible than the parking lot was where I made my first (and accidental!) naked debut outside in this neighborhood! Every balcony, window, porch, or doorway in this neighborhood overlooked this roof! This roof was totally visible from the dorms located just down the hill, and even visible to anyone on the street out front. It was safe to say that this was the absolute least private place on the entire block! I noticed several people were already watching what I was up to. But since I had already met my neighbors about a week before when I accidentally went to the dumpster naked (see the above mentioned blog for the details on that!), I decided I was free to be me! I stripped, and danced across that entire roof! Sandy was howling with delight, several neighbors were taking pictures, the sorority girls had gathered on their balcony, and even people walking by had stopped to smile. I was thrilled that I could dance naked under the stars, be free, safe, and not have a worry in the entire world! (except perhaps frostbite, and frozen bits…) It was so exhilarating, I gathered my clothes from the pile on the roof, and tossed them over the edge. They would be down on the ground by my own apartment once I went back down. I had found an incredible secret (yet hardly secret) place of escape! I just marveled at how free it was up there. The frigid cold night air was invigorating. As I took it all in, and watched the world below, I was taken back to when I was twelve, and that very last night as a kid at my Gramma’s house, naked up in the tree, watching the world below. (You can read about that in this blog “Surprise! Your Family Moved Out of State While you were at camp!”):  http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2011/09/surprise-your-family-moved-out-of-state.html 

After a while naked on the roof, I finally came back to the present time, and decided it was really cold, so I went down. Sandy and I went into her apartment for a bit. We enjoyed each other’s company, and often did not want to go our separate ways. She could see how cold I had gotten, so offered for me to take a hot shower. This, too was not uncommon for us. She enjoyed coming and talking to me while I showered in my own apartment. But this was the first time I had showered in hers. It felt wonderful to have gotten naked, danced on the cold rooftop, then get cozy-warm again in her hot shower.  She told me how wonderful it was to watch me find freedom, escape the daily world, and not have any shame, fear, or feel the need to hide who I was.  She told me, and I saw the freedom in her own eyes, too how much it meant for her to allow herself to be near a naked man, and not freak-out. She told me some of how the neighbors reacted, and how positive they all were about seeing me up there too! In this neighborhood, I had discovered people really accepted others. I had found my place.

I made it a point to go up on the roof as much as possible without getting myself in trouble. I never really tried to keep it a secret, just was cautious about over-doing it. It was always a treat when I could go up, but being that it was winter, it was not often a priority. Winter in Virginia was definitely prohibitive in nudity for prolonged periods outdoors. Using the roof seemed more of a sunny, warm kind of thing.

When Lucy had moved in, she and I connected immediately, too. She first met me while I was painting my apartment on a ladder while naked. Since the door was open, and she was an artist, she was intrigued by the colors she saw inside. She could hear me singing happily along to my music, and felt it was perfectly acceptable to just walk on in. She was correct. She had just started moving in the day before, and was bringing more stuff this time. Only after talking for a bit, getting to know one another, did I ask her if she minded that I was naked. She laughed and said she was actually really happy to discover both an artist, and a naked one at that living in her new building. She stayed a while, and we chatted, getting to know more about each other. I continued painting, and she was excited to watch some of my technique. I asked if she was hungry, since I was about to order a pizza. She was more than eager to accept some free pizza! (She was totally the image of a starving artist/ college student trying to make it on her own!... well, mentally, and financially she was a starving artist. Her body clearly was not anorexic, nor unhealthy.) She went back upstairs, to start settling in to her new apartment.

By now, the pizza delivery people were very used to seeing me naked. I worked for Dominos, and ordered from Dominos, so these delivery people were coworkers, and quite familiar with who I was. After the pizza arrived, I took it upstairs, still totally naked, to her apartment. She cautiously opened the door, and peeked around it. Then, noticing it was me, opened it fully to show me why she had hidden behind the door. She, too had stripped completely naked, and was not quite sure of the feel of the neighborhood yet. She had told me in light conversation downstairs that she was happy to have her own place so she could enjoy being naked whenever she wanted without worrying about family, or uptight roommates. I was not totally surprised to see her naked, but I was a bit. I had gotten used to others seeing me, and building my own comfort, confidence, and security, but I had not yet had many that would also be naked around me. Knowing that she had gotten naked specifically for my visit told me right away she was also as comfortable, safe, and free as I was. It was clear she cherished her naked time, and was happy to have this opportunity to strip, and get a feel for the neighborhood. She still looked a bit nervous, and I was not quite sure why. After she closed the door, I told her she would be safe, and comfortable in this neighborhood completely naked. She commented that it must be safe, since I could get pizza delivered while naked! I told her it was only Sandy, Myself, and now Her as tenants, so we pretty much got to establish the way the place was. I also told her the owners, and maintenance people, and even the mail lady were comfortable with my nakedness. That seemed to put her at ease, a bit, but she still had a bit of a nervous edge, and I could tell there was more bugging her, but could not place it yet.

Lucy did not have much in the way of furnishings, and had no table, or chairs. I told her that was fine, and noted my apartment did not either. She was happy that I was not expecting full furnishings. But I was totally excited that she had a full-sized cow-skin rug on her floor! It was truly the hide of an entire black-and-white cow! We decided to sit on the cow to have our pizza! This time, I was the one a bit nervous… she was used to, and comfortable being naked on her cow. I had never before had my bare skin on the fur of an animal! She giggled at my new-found joy. It was then that she revealed why she was herself so nervous: She loved to be naked, but was used to people staring, ogling and looking at her body in a way that made her uncomfortable. She took a big risk in stripping for me on the first day we met. She said she could tell I was safe, but not so sure I would not react to her body when I saw it naked. In those few minutes before I came up with the pizza, she said she had stripped, then gotten dressed, and then stripped again, just as I came to her door. She was indecisive if she really wanted to have me see her naked so soon. Since she happened to have just stripped again as I showed-up, she decided to "go for it", and take the risk. She told me that she was pleasantly surprised to see that I never stared at her, or ogled her. It did not take long before we became close friends, also! I told Lucy about the roof, but since it was mid-day during a weekday when owners and maintenance people tended to come around, I did not show her how to get up there yet. I did take her upstairs to meet Sandy, though. She was not sure about going up to meet her while naked, but trusted I would not lead her into trouble.  Sandy did not even flinch when she opened the door to see Lucy and Me both naked. I told her I wanted to introduce our new neighbor. Lucy was a bit nervous, but Sandy put her at ease immediately. We all stayed and chatted a bit in Sandy’s apartment, then each went home to tend to our own homes, and the projects at hand.

In no time, I had shown Lucy how to get up to the roof, too! She already knew all the girls in the Sorority House, and having them see her naked up there was no surprise to them either.She enjoyed it as much as I did, but we both understood we needed to not over-use it, for fear of losing the privilege. For many months, the three of us were the only tenants in the building. The building had 9 units, so there was always the expectation we would have more neighbors. But, meanwhile we had established seniority, and anybody that came in would know that nudity was the normal, not the exception. Sandy totally accepted My and Lucy’s freedom.

Lucy’s boyfriend was not terribly thrilled about the naked lifestyle. She had told me this the very first time we met, while eating the pizza on the cow. He never minded when she was naked, but of course he saw it as something completely different than just simply naked. (And, yes, Lucy was what most would consider a ‘hottie’. She was a healthy, attractive 22 year old, and even with clothes on, she would make most guys, and many gals stare. When she was without clothes, she would be considered a knock-out. I seldom, if ever, comment about the physical attributes of a person’s body. But with her, this was a handicap that made it even harder for her to be comfortably naked. This is what she referred to that first day while we ate pizza naked on her cow-skin rug, and was pleasantly surprised I did not treat her that way. Most people just have to learn to accept all the “so-called imperfections” they see on the human body to allow themselves to be naked, or to see another naked. With her, the reaction most people gave was of absolute admiration, and wanting to see more of her “supposed perfection”. Most humans have to be willing to allow others to see the wrinkles, sags, bulges, funny veins, or lopsided and uneven parts. She had to accept that they would stare at her, because she did not have any of the “normal imperfections”. Most people quickly get bored of seeing the naked human body, once they realize there is nothing that is so exciting they need to stare. But with Lucy, most would find themselves staring in Awe, instead of mild disgust, or amusement.) She was not fond of the attention directed toward her physical body. She was just like me in this aspect. Some people go naked for the sole purpose of getting attention, and to have others see them. Those people are exhibitionists, not nudists, or naturists. That is the exact opposite of what naked freedom is all about for a true nudist, or naturist~someone who just enjoys the freedom of no clothes, acceptance, safety, comfort, and just overall loves people for who they are, not what they look like. An exhibitionist is usually illegal. A Naturist, or Nudist is seldom illegal. Yes, there is a huge difference. In most laws regarding nudity, for it to be illegal, it must be Lewd, Obscene, or both. Exhibitionism, or doing things to attract attention to the naked body usually falls under one or both of those categories. A Nudist, or naturist is not interested in attracting attention for being naked, they are simply just naked.

But Lucy’s boyfriend was definitely the type who loved to have her naked simply because he could ogle her. For this same reason, he had a hard time ever seeing anybody else naked, and especially having another person see Lucy naked. To him, naked meant sexual stimulation. Neither Lucy nor I saw it this way, and that is why we could enjoy the freedom comfortably. She made sure to tell him about her new neighbors right away, and she was surprised that he seemed to approve. He told her he also wanted to meet both Sandy and Me. So the first time he came over when I was home, he took it upon himself to knock on my door. I answered it naked, of course. He did not flinch. He put his hand out to shake mine, and introduced himself. I was surprised how comfortable he was, after what I’d been told. He made it clear he was happy for such good neighbors for Lucy, and glad she had a place she could be herself.  He then asked if I would take him upstairs to meet Sandy, too. I said, we should stop and get Lucy as we go upstairs. He agreed. Lucy was totally naked, and agreed to come upstairs with us. He was intrigued at watching how we behaved together. Once meeting Sandy, and seeing how she behaved with us, too, he told all of us how we definitely treated naked differently than he was used-to. On the way back down the stairs, we passed the maintenance man.  Lucy’s boyfriend was amazed to watch that he greeted each of us, and looked in our eyes, instead of at her breasts. He told all of us how comfortable it was, instead of awkward, sexual, or in any way like there was anything but genuine care , concern, and neighborly friendliness. He was always comfortable around either Me, or Lucy when we were naked, but would never dare go naked himself.

Throughout the winter, we would be naked in each other’s apartments, in our own apartments, and often be seen going to the dumpster naked, too.  We went to the roof occasionally for an evening, but only occasionally. (Sandy still would only poke her head up, but remain on the stairs.) We all three helped paint and make our homes creative, bright, and cheerful. Most of the time, Lucy and I were always naked, and Sandy kept her clothes on. She had started to relax, and not worry so much in her own apartment, but always made sure she was fully clothed outside her own apartment. She would not worry if she had to change clothes or we walked in while she was showering. She even got to the point where she would walk naked from the shower to the bedroom without covering. We all three were comfortable, and just came and went from each others’ apartments. We never felt the need to knock, and our doors were always unlocked when we were home. We knew better, though if Lucy’s boyfriend happened to be over. (We saw his car in the parking lot, and would not just walk-into her apartment.) But that was the only time. In no time, we had the entire entry, stairwell, and mailbox area painted colorful, fun, inviting, and friendly.

On the day we were painting Sandy’s front door, and the surrounding hallway, she surprised us by coming out of her bedroom with only underpants on! She had started the day in full pants, and long sleeve shirt. Even though she came out wearing only underwear, she was still making sure to cover her front region with both hands. We tried not to look surprised, but we could not help it. Her grin also told how surprised she was at herself! She told us she felt brave today, and wanted to experience what we experience! (It was clear why she was still covering herself with her hands. She was not the type to ever worry about shaving any of her body hair, and now standing there in only panties, her hair was wildly obvious, and she was self-conscious about how the panties did not cover it. I found it to be surprisingly attractive, wild, and inviting to look at. She even had hairier legs than many men. Her navel was hairy, so was her belly, and she even had hair on her chest, and many long hairs on her nipples. She was not ugly, and unattractive, she simply never was the type to worry about body hair grooming. I did not want to make her uncomfortable, though. Even though she had not minded us seeing her natural and naked when dressing, or going from the shower to get dressed, Now that she was wearing only underwear, it was sticking out, and she was self-conscious of it.) We asked about the underwear-only, though. She grinned, and said she was not quite ready to be outside her apartment completely naked! We could tell from the way she felt she needed to hide her body hair, that this was an incredibly huge leap for her. She totally trusted us, and was willing to allow us to see her areas she would never allow another to see. She was not the type to ever wear a bra. She was small-breasted, and not ever concerned about the needed hassle of a bra, so going braless was not so much an issue… she simply just removed her shirt. 
While these are not the same
panties, they are close
enough. These have pink pigs
instead of purple smileys.
Either way, they make me smile! :)
(And I would bet she bought brand new underwear just for this occasion! They were bright yellow panties with purple smileys on them.) She was the type to never buy new clothes…ever! But this pair of underwear were definitely new! I complimented her on her choice of underpants, and she beamed with pride, and told me she knew I would like them! She eventually forgot to attempt to hide her hair that was sticking out, and knew we were safe, and it did not matter. She had a ball painting that day, and only ran inside once when she heard the stairway door open then close below us. (It was the mail lady.) She came back out when she was sure the coast was clear. By the end of that day, her bright yellow with purple smileys underwear were covered in many other colors of paint… as was usual when we were painting. (Except it was not our underwear covered in paint, since we were naked.) She did not mind at all, and was thrilled to have done it! She insisted she loved the freedom, and could understand what we saw in doing it every day… but she never did that again. She still would not mind being naked occasionally inside her own apartment, but still very reserved, guarded, and cautious about anybody else possibly seeing any of her body. She made it a point to always put clothes on, and not linger too long naked, or in just underwear. We were thrilled that she felt comfortable enough, and got the courage to do it mostly naked the first time!

The owners loved how we made the place feel with all the paint, colors, and cheer. It did not take long to get all the units filled-up when it was so cheerful, instead of looking deserted.  Some of the new neighbors found it humorous how we enjoyed our naked freedom. Even though most of them never joined us in our naked lifestyle, (until Memorial Day), there was one who did. The rest were content to just allow us to do our own thing, but also did not shun us. The one who did happily come and get naked in my home, was the one we least expected to ever be socially naked. Her name was Jill, and she was quite possibly the shyest person I had ever met. But for whatever reasons, she felt very welcome, and comfortable in my home. Sandy and Lucy also openly welcomed her. She moved into our building in March. I will tell more about her later. Most of the neighbors were happy to live there, and were friendly, caring neighbors. Of course, there were some who once they moved-in would complain to the owners about us being naked. The owners would tell them that “The naked people were the ones willing to move-in, paint it, make it cheerful, and help get others to move here, while it still looked rundown and deserted. The naked people are what made it so you would want to live here. The naked people can remain naked.”  Only one person moved out because of us.

Sandy’s “boyfriend” showed up one time. I knew it was him without ever having met him. He parked almost at my front door, and when he looked inside, he saw me naked. He stopped, and yelled at me “What are you doing!? My Girlfriend lives here!” He was drunk, and totally could not believe the possibility of “His Girlfriend” seeing the human body naked. I just smiled, walked to the door, stuck out my hand and introduced myself. He would not shake my hand. Sandy was up on her balcony watching, and laughing. She smiled down at him and said, “Don’t you think I am old enough to decide for myself if I am allowed to see a naked person?”  He was not sure how to react to that. While he was away, she had gained confidence, and knew what she did and did not want in her life. He was mad at all the color, and cheer. He told her they were moving out. She informed him She was staying, and if he had decided to show up more than once every few months he might have had a say in it. He grabbed his things, and started loading them into his van. Lucy totally knew what her body did to most men, and this time used it for a great purpose. While he was loading the van he was also yelling at Sandy.  Lucy decided this was The Perfect time to take out her trash while naked. He was so distracted by Lucy, he totally forgot he was yelling at Sandy. He tripped with every step, and could barely function. He Stuffed his things in the van, and hurried to get out of the parking lot. Lucy made sure to walk up by the street as he went out the driveway. He was so distracted, he hit the power pole! We were all laughing hilariously. He only dented his fender, and broke the mirror, so he sped on away from our place. Sandy thanked us, and was smiling bigger than ever! Lucy said she felt like she had been soiled, and needed a shower.

As The Spring months came and the weather started getting warmer, it meant it was time to find a sunny spot, and soak up as much sun as possible! I did not get sun on my patio areas, since it was all under the carport awning. I had many times gone up and sunbathed on Sandy’s balcony. She lived on the third floor, so the balcony was visible from the street, and some of the neighbors if anybody chose to look up there. Sandy’s balcony also happened to be slightly lower, and ajacent to the balcony of The Sorority House next door. Most of the time, nobody looked high while going past. Sandy never sunned herself outside, but she would open her balcony door, and lay naked on the floor just inside the open door. There, the only people who could see her were The Sorority Girls, but they were very respectful, and never made her uncomfortable. (The Sorority Girls often enjoyed time on their own balcony, and inside their home naked. They, too never closed their blinds, and knew we were as safe and comfortable as they were towards us.The unique thing about The Sorority House was that We were the only ones who could see into their windows, or see what happened on their balcony, and they never felt the need to hide from us, just like we never hid from them.) Other than the girls, nobody could see her, and she could still get a bit of sun. She would not sun naked while I was out on her balcony, only when she was alone. Often, though, while I was sunning on her balcony, she had come and lay just inside the door in the now-painted, but otherwise yellow with purple smileys underwear. I knew this was special, and I cherished it. By this time, she had gotten comfortable with me seeing her in her underwear regularly. I loved that she still had all that wild untrimmed hair, but every time she saw me looking, she would get self-conscious, and attempt to hide it. She knew I was not interested in sex, and even understood why. To both of us, this was a good thing. That eliminated the possibility of any sexual tension. When she would see me looking at her wild, untrimmed hair, she would tease me and say I wanted to touch it. (She knew I wanted to, and also knew I would not because of how uncomfortable the topic made her. She also knew that to me, the hair was a topic in itself, and not in any way sexual, or connected to what it covered, she knew I was not interested in her vagina, only the hair that was wildly covering it.) When she would tease me, it was her way of lightening her own feeling about the hair. I told her she knew all too well how much I would love to touch it too, and how much I found it to be a good thing, but any mention of it made her uncomfortable. One time, she confessed how she hated that she did not know what to do with it, and how it had become the monster she would not deal with. She knew full well how comfortable I was with shaving, trimming, and helping others learn what level of comfort was good for them. When we talked about my hair, or others’ hair, she was comfortable with that, but when it came to her own body hair, the topic sent her mind spiraling. She often would talk to Lucy about the various ways she had trimmed herself up. (Lucy was very artistic in this area.) She was perfectly fine talking with either of us about our own hair, or lack of, but if the topic turned to herself, that was not good. One time I offered to help her with hers. She was not at all willing to entertain that possibility. So, we pretty much agreed to never bring up the topic of her body hair. She knew I admired it. I knew she hated it and was ashamed of it. Yet, she would still purposely make sure I could see it, and I knew to never say anything about it. When she knew I would be up there, she would purposely have on those painted yellow with purple smileys underwear. It was interesting how she was happy to show off that particular pair, and even proud to wear them for me, allowing her wild hair to be proudly displayed, yet pretend it was not there. All of her other underwear was tattered, worn, and had the possibility to crumble into shreds at any moment.

I had also found a couple of sunny spots in the parking lot that were semi-secluded, and if we parked our cars in the right places, were only visible from the balconies of our own apartments just above the parking places, and the balcony of The Sorority House. The girls in the Sorority House enjoyed when I used the parking lot, because their balcony looked down on our parking lot. They liked to pretend seeing me naked was no big deal, but they always found excuses to hang out on their balcony once I was sunning in the lot below. Many of them also parked their cars in our parking lot. (This was an arrangement the owners of our place came up with while our building was mostly empty. The Sorority girls liked the arrangement, and it gave them a safe place to park their cars where others could keep an eye on them, and it kept the cars off the street.) When I was sunning in the parking lot, many of them would find repeated excuses to have a need to go to the car for something. Even though they had no reason to walk right next to where I was, once they looked over their balcony, and saw me down there, they would suddenly find a reason to come and walk through right next to where I was, shyly looking, giggling, and walking back and forth many times. I did not mind, because they were not in any way mean, and I totally understand how fun that can be when done in a healthy way. I was actually glad they were gutsy enough to do what they desired, instead of hiding, lurking, or being sneaky. Often, Sandy would come and sit on her balcony and watch me sunning below. Once in a while, she would pour water on me from above. It was never a lot, or to be mean, just simple fun, and friendly. Occasionally, if someone paid attention, and peered through the bushes along the street, the parking lot sunny-spots were visible to anyone walking past. But most of the time, nobody looked down there. Or those who did were polite, and did not make a scene.

Lucy often sunbathed on her balcony, which was on the second floor, and just happened to be at the same level as the street. She found that she attracted way more attention than she found comfortable. This attention was from strangers, and people on the street, not from anyone in our apartments, or even from the neighbors. She was not comfortable with that kind of attention, and I don’t blame her. I used Lucy’s balcony a couple of times, also, just to see if people reacted to anybody on her balcony, or if it was just her. I got the same unwanted attention she had gotten! Sandy offered her balcony, and Lucy was not so sure she would not be harassed up there, too. I told her she would be safe up there. She reluctantly tried it, and was pleasantly surprised that nobody seemed to notice. (People rarely go out of their way to look up, when passing by.) Lucy also came to the places I had discovered in the parking lot, and did not like the feeling of “having to hide” for sunbathing. I also understood this feeling. Since it was not illegal, we should be able to sunbathe wherever we wanted without hassle. The trouble was the way some people in our society react toward naked.

Here is the field, with its wonderful architecture,
 seating and paths.
There was also an old soccer arena just down the hill from our building. It was pretty much an abandoned field with wonderful concrete ampitheater-style seating curved half-way around the field. I had gone down there many times to sunbathe, and never had a problem with anyone harassing me, or complaining. Sandy would often come down here and join me, but would not expose any of her body outside. She enjoyed the sunshine, and we enjoyed each other’s company. Sometimes, she would use my coming down here as an excuse to take her dog out to play. I would sun on the grass, and they would run around on the field. It was not exactly a private area, nor secluded. It was actually the exact opposite! It was visible to any and all from all sides. Around its high-rimmed perimeter, there was a walking path which connected several sections of The University. It was flanked on one side by the back side of many old homes, with rear-porches. Another side was flanked entirely by student dorms. The two sides with the concrete ampitheater seating, also had greek-style architecture, arches, pillars, and arched roofs over the top of the seating, and the walking path. Oddly enough, this entire field, and the seating area was a perfect place for sunbathing. The first couple of times I went down there, I was cautious, and chose semi-secluded areas. I quickly found out that nobody cared if I was naked down there. Even the campus police who patrolled it stopped and chatted, but never cared that I was naked. They would stop to chat, just out of standard practice to see who was around, and what they were up to. After a couple of times chatting with them, I asked if there was ever a problem with nudity here. They agreed with what I had already discovered. They stated that as long as a person was minding their own business, and not trying to attract attention, there would not be a problem out here.  I had also discovered this same freedom in this same spot when it had snowed in December. This was where I came to naked snow dance, and make nude-snow-angels. Others also came out and did the same thing, and nobody seemed to care that others were naked out here. (But I actually had figured it was just because of the “special” feeling created by the snow.)

I told Lucy about the freedom I had found down at the field, and she was skeptical, but willing to try it out and see if she got harassed. I went all the way out to the middle of the field, and chose my perfect sunny spot on the nice soft grass. (It sure beat the concrete of balconies, parking places, or the seating around the field!) She chose to be less visible for the first time, and just see how it went. She did not hide, but chose a spot closer to the wall, so she was only visible for some from across the field. I mentioned this was not exactly a secluded, hardly visible, or even seldom-used area. It was actually quite busy on this afternoon with many people coming and going. Many walked around the perimeter on the paths, but we found that many also cut across the field, too. A few people stopped and did a long glance at her, but nobody was rude, or in any way made her uncomfortable. A few did the same thing with me. (But more glanced longer at her.) The ones that looked, were looking more out of simple curiosity to see why a person was naked here, but not to stare, or ogle a naked person. The ones that took longer looks at her had a genuine look of appreciation as they gazed at her naked body. She saw this, too, and not once was she made to feel uncomfortable. A group of kids (I say kids, because to me, they were all kids, even though they were in college…and, yes Lucy was a kid in my eyes, too!) had come down to the field to play some games of Frisbee. It was a mixed group of guys and gals. They were not concerned that we were naked, but they were concerned that we might get hit with a Frisbee. We happily moved to a place where we would not block their game. This time, we both were in a much-more visible place, and actually right next to the other path on the far side. Not one single person harassed her. Everyone out here was neighborly, polite, friendly, accepting, and wonderful! We had been so comfortable, we decided to just walk up the hill to our apartments without putting on any clothes… just to see what happened.

Well, the short walk up the hill definitely was not pleasant. We attracted so many rude people! But that was also exactly what we needed for figuring out why people reacted to naked if in different locations. We discovered that if it was at plain-level, where they are seeing, without having to look, it seemed to attract all the wrong attention. It seemed they felt it was forced upon them, and they were forced to see the naked body. In a field, arena, on a higher balcony, or in a lower parking lot people going past had to make an effort to look in the direction of the naked person, and they seemed to decide they were the ones intruding, and would leave the naked person alone. When we walked up the hill naked from the arena, we managed to put the naked immediately in front of their view again, and this seemed to be the key. We discovered where people’s perception of naked was acceptable, and where they seemed to think it was forced upon them.
The arena experiment was a wonderful way to discover how, and where people would react to nakedness. (Ironically, just two blocks away, people were arrested every day for “streaking” across a main courtyard lawn. The difference was that in that courtyard, it was considered the ultimate “dare, challenge, initiation, or even hazing” to make someone run the length of it naked without getting busted. That courtyard also happened to be a major area of importance, and the only reason anybody went naked there was to get the attention. It was also considered a “privilege” if you happened to catch a glimpse of one of the streakers.) But down on the arena we were using, it was not even close to the same thing.

As spring warmed further, we often would go down to the arena for sunbathing. We also discovered we were not alone in this adventure. On the warmer days, it was not uncommon to see many naked, or partially naked sunning out here. As long as Lucy was not naked on her balcony or walking near the street, she never got harassed. We found it interesting that she could be naked inside her apartment with the blinds open, and nobody reacted, but if she was on her balcony, they did. We often talked about how wonderful it would be to try out the sunbathing up on the roof! (But we needed a time when no owners, or maintenance people were around.) I was usually off Mondays and Tuesdays. Going up on the roof on either of those days meant it was too risky. I never had a problem with pushing my boundaries just a wee-bit with the people I rented from, but I also was not willing to risk getting on their bad-side. We often would go up there in the late evening hours, but had not yet had the opportunity for sunbathing up there. There was also the factor of placing our nudity in plain-view of the University admin buildings nearby.

Well, Memorial Day just happens to fall on a Monday, and I was off work. Early in the morning, I got the idea that this would be the perfect day to spend an entire day up on the roof! It was supposed to be hot (close to 100 degrees), clear, and beautiful this day! I made some sandwiches, got my juices, and waters, snacks, gathered some towels, a book, my radio, even a pillow. I got my lotion, sunglasses, hat, and sandals. I got my knife, and a walking stick I needed to do some carving on. I got out my ladder, so nobody would have to scramble the first five feet. I was all set! I was going to go up on the roof early in the day, and stay up there all day long! I had gathered everything I would need, just like I was headed out hiking for the entire day. (You might wonder why I chose to stay home, instead of going hiking on such a perfect day? Simple! It was a holiday. That meant everyone would be out hiking. There would be no peace in the mountains. Normally, I could hike naked, and never have any problems with those I crossed paths with. But holidays tend to bring out a different crowd, and I know from experience that crowd is not the type of crowd that is safe, comfortable, or even the kind you would want to cross paths with… clothed, or not! The holiday hikers were usually the type who liked to be drunk, rowdy, and had no respect for nature, let alone other humans. They would invade an entire area in the mountains, and trash it, shoot guns, and destroy everything they came in contact with. These were not the type of people I enjoyed at all.)

But the type of people I Did enjoy happened to be at my home, and they were off today, too! For most of the University, the school year had ended already, so many of the students had done a mass-exit for Summer break. Some of the classes did not end yet, but they all were out for the long weekend, so even those who still had to stay another week or two, had gone elsewhere for the weekend. The Frat house next door was almost a ghost-residence! (There were only a couple of guys still there....but I would learn later in the day that they had a work-party planned.) I had thought The Sorority house on the other side had vacated, completely. (But would learn later in the day that they had an event for the families planned for later in the day.) The Arts building across the street was also now completely vacant for remodeling. (The remodeling project started about a month before Memorial day, but since today was a holiday, there were no workers on the scaffolding, or up on the roof over looking our roof. Construction workers as a whole are some of the most rude, ill-mannered people, and we knew being naked around them would not be fun.)  Many of the apartments behind us had already vacated. (But I would learn later in the day that this was the day many parents showed up with trucks to physically move out all their child’s belongings.) The dorm buildings down the street were mostly vacant.

It was a perfect time to play naked in the sunshine on the roof all day! (Or so I thought!) One of the biggest factors in finding a safe, comfortable environment, is not so much the absence of other people, but rather the security in knowing those that happen to be around are like-minded, and comfortable. The last thing a nudist wants is to be gawked-at, or looked at as if we were some sort of freak-show. It is not so much a problem to have the construction workers see us naked, as it is to know they are in a completely different frame of mind, and cannot see casual nakedness as just that. It is not a problem to have all the windows from the dorms overlooking the area we happen to be naked, but rather it is awkward to know you are on display for all the kids to stare at with mild humor, and to become a main-focus for hundreds of onlookers. It is not so much a problem to be naked where all the girls in The Sorority house can see you, but rather awkward when you are the only male, and clearly visible to the closest building, which happens to be an all-girl residence. For those who are not familiar with a nudists lifestyle, it would seem rather than just simply enjoying a sunny day while naked, in a normal-everyday lifestyle, those who see this would likely view the naked person as placing themselves on display to be seen by those nearby. Fortunately for me, all the girls in the sorority house already had gotten to know me, welcomed, and openly accepted my naked lifestyle. (Often, the girls at The Sorority house enjoyed naked time within their own home, and on their mostly secluded balcony.) The same was true with the dorm-residents, and almost anybody else who was a regular in this neighborhood. But, even still, having less people around made it even more perfect to be naked on That Memorial Day.
*********************************************************************************
For the continuation of this wonderful day, See this Blog: http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2012/06/get-naked-on-roof-part-ii.html

I decided to break this writing off here, and write the day’s events of Our Naked On The Roof Memorial Day as several more writings. This part covers the 7-months that led to this incredible day. The events that happened during this day will consist of several more writings, because there was so much that happened, and it is all very important for detailing how come this event was so wonderful, incredible, and makes me wish I were back in Virginia on Memorial Day!

Sometimes, the only thing that keeps me from sharing more of my life’s adventures is the time it takes to write it all down. (And I know if it takes me a while to write, It also takes you some time to read… I am thrilled that you care enough to learn what makes my life so special, but I also do not wish to take up your whole life with super-long writings.) As I get the rest of the events of That wonderful Memorial Day written, I will post them here.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

The Joys of Naked as a Child, Then Lost.





The Joys of Naked, as a Child, then Lost.


I am often asked “Why Nekkid?”

To Me, in hind sight, the answer is simple. Freedom. I had this freedom as a child. That freedom was taken away at the age of twelve. But it is far more complex than just simply freedom from clothes. To me, Nekkid is more than “just not wearing clothes”. I am fully aware that most humans in America view nekkid as solely sexual. I do not understand, nor do I embrace this same view. I also am aware that most view any form of naked as Illegal. The Irony in this is: In most places, simply naked is not at all illegal. It becomes illegal when one makes it sexual, lewd, or obscene. Simply naked is none of these. Sadly, most choose to believe it is in fact all the above. Due to that common belief, anyone choosing to be simply naked, would risk arrest, being labeled some sort of sexual predator, or have labels attached to them that would forever damage that person. It is incredible how the innocent person is treated as a criminal in our society. The person who is completely legal in being naked, would be arrested, because even most police officers do not understand the laws. There could never be any charges filed, but that person would already be labeled, and the damage would be permanent.

What is Freedom?:
Freedom carries away many extremely heavy, and damaging things when it comes. I often hear people speak of “freedom” in terms of what life in The United States is. I have always been a U.S. Citizen, yet Freedom is something I did not have. This is a different kind of freedom. This freedom is not achieved through any kind of military, or laws, or treaties, declarations, or not even festive parades, or tying a yellow ribbon around an old oak tree. I believe that for there to be true freedom, we must embrace acceptance, do no harm to anyone (ourselves included), and not make something that is so simple, natural, and the way God made each and every one of us into something that it is not. Everybody wants to rally round the easy ones, and say they support freedom. But Do they Really Have Freedom?

As an adult, freedom is something I could not achieve. I had freedom as a child, so I knew what freedom was, and knew I needed to find it again. I was in the worst kind of prison, and could not find my way out. Freedom is not exactly free, but it is available for any who have the courage, strength, determination, and support to achieve it. I had None of these. (Or so I thought.) Also, far from simple was the path that led me to eventually re-gain my freedom. It is a path of the most complex obstacles one could imagine. Those obstacles include guilt, shame, humiliation, bullying, rejection, isolation, self-doubt, depression, fear, stigmas, and having to undo all the damage, and protective barriers I had built around my hideous body. (Or, more appropriately, what others had told me all my teenage, and adult life was a hideous body). Those obstacles also include helping those around you find acceptance, trust, understanding, and overcome their own fears, doubts, and all the heavy things they had built around their own reasons for not either wanting to see, or be seen nekkid. It involves showing by example, trust, and care. I had to learn to not only accept who I am, but also enjoy what I am. I had to learn that I was in charge of how I felt, and how I perceived myself. I had to learn that the human body was not grotesque, nor obscene. Far too long in life, I had allowed myself to fall victim to the people who bullied, teased, and made my life a living hell. I had learned how to hide who I am just to keep others happy. (Or more appropriately, to keep them from bullying me.) I had to learn that most of those who heaped the pain upon Me, were in fact the ones who were suffering the most. I had to learn that they were insecure, and scared. I had to learn that it was up to me take that away from them, and never give them that power again. If they could not have the power to harm me, then they were no longer in charge of me. Gaining my own freedom is The Absolute most difficult thing I have ever attempted in life. Gaining my own freedom was also the Most rewarding, positive thing I have ever done in my life! The only way to take that power and control away was to show them I accepted my body. This was my body. I was not ashamed. I am Human. This is how God made me. To NEVER be willing to hide, just to please them. I had to learn how to show the world I HAD MY FREEDOM.



THE FREEDOM I KNEW AS A CHILD:

At Home:

From what I have been told, living life nekkid was something I did long before I knew it was a choice! I am told that when I was a toddler, They could not keep me in my clothes. I Do have many memories of being nekkid as often as I could possibly get away with in much of my childhood. Mom always taught us that seeing naked people was no big deal. (That is, unless We were the ones naked) For reasons I never understood, we were taught “naked was fine”, “no big deal”, “they are just without clothes”…. Unless it was those of us who lived in our own home. This was, of course, not always true, so there was much confusion about the rules of nekkid. Some days we could play nekkid, and even our friends would be nekkid, and nobody cared. Some days, Mom and Dad would be naked, and nobody cared. Other days, it was forbidden. We would go to the neighborhood swimming pool, and when we got home, Mom would have us strip in the garage, so we did not drip in the house, but we were supposed to cover-up in a towel to go inside to get dressed (even though all of us, and our friends stripped naked together and changed into our swimsuits before going, and then stripped off our wet suits all together in the garage.) When it would rain, We delighted in getting to go out splashing in the puddles in our fancy yellow rubber raincoats, and rubber boots. Mom would have us wear only our underwear underneath, so our clothes would not be soaked. We would Run, and stomp all up and down the street, soaking ourselves, even inside our coats. As soon as we were at the playground, we knew we were out of Mom’s sight. That is when the total bliss would begin! We stripped off the raincoats, and underwear, keeping on only the boots, which were totally filled with sloshing water! We would laugh, and play, and run all around totally nekkid, soaked from the rain, and have not a care in the entire world. Of course, Every neighbor saw us, and Not a one of them cared that we were naked. (We lived in a great community, where everyone knew one another, and also kept an eye on each other’s kids.) I am sure that they did tell Mom, but nothing was ever said, so we just totally enjoyed the bliss. Anyone who ever tried to put on wet underwear knows how difficult that is. So, we would put our soaked underwear in the coat pocket (which was also filled with water!) and play, and stomp, and splash all the way back. We would arrive back home once we were totally exhausted, cold, and ready for a hot bath. Mom would always greet us in the garage, and we knew that was the place to strip, so we always did… hoping she would not notice we were not wearing our underwear. She would always have the hot bath ready. No matter who was there, which friends joined us, or even if there were other house-guests, This was one of those times naked was totally acceptable. We Stripped, and went through the house to the bath, and all climbed in the tub together. Yes, we all went through the kitchen, dining room, past the family room, and living room in full-naked view of any and all who were there, and nobody seemed to care. Dad never really had any hang-ups one way or another about naked. Sometimes he would be, and sometimes not. It was never a big deal to him. He never seemed to even blink if anyone else was, and He never seemed uncomfortable about it.



In Nature:

As kids, even though Mom had funny rules about nekkid in our own home, we often enjoyed naked freedom when we were in nature. The back yard also seemed to not have rules about nekkid. We were often found playing naked in the yard with assorted friends, and neighbors. Some of the greatest joys we found were when we could bury one another in our sandbox, or create a mud-hole to play-in. Camping seemed to remove all barriers that existed at home. Even the rivers, lakes, and beaches often naked was completely acceptable. Of course, we learned early in life that we had to go with the flow, of what would be permissible, depending on who we were with on any given day. But usually, nobody even blinked twice, or was surprised to see somebody nekkid. Adult, or kid, it did not seem to matter. I learned that nature took away most barriers, and restrictions that we were bound by at home.



At neighbors:

The same was true at most of our friend’s houses. Many of the families we were friends with would often be naked at random times. It was just considered a normal thing in the home, and considered normal among people who were friends. Nobody cared if you were a boy, or a girl, nor did it matter if the adult was a man or a woman. People saw one another naked. There was never anything inappropriate, or harmful. It was just simply life. It did always seem odd to me that seldom did any of the parents show nudity when the other parents were around, even though it was well-known nakedness occurred in the other homes. It almost seemed that for some reason adults were not allowed to be nekkid in another adult’s home. That was different in Grandma’s neighborhood.



At Grandma’s:

As kids, at Grandma’s house, the rule was simple: If Mom was not there, we could play nekkid in the back yard, in the bedrooms, bathrooms, in the rec-room, Grampa’s workshop, the carport, even the front yard- on occasion, the laundry room, and at Grampa’s Bar. The only places we were not to be nekkid was in the kitchen, dining room, or Living room. (But even those were occasionally allowed.) Those were considered “the Formal” Rooms. Everyone who ever visited Gramma’s knew they might see a naked person. Even when she entertained in a formal manner, it was known that outside those formal settings, nekkid was acceptable, and even welcomed. The formal rooms looked over the yard, and nobody ever complained. So, we got A LOT of nekkid-freedom at Gramma’s house! Grandma was often nekkid in her room, or the pool area, but Grandpa never was. Even when Grampa and Gramma’s friends were naked, Grampa would not be. He never had a problem with anyone being naked, and was quite social around everyone, naked, or not, yet for whatever reason he had, He would Never be seen Naked, Except One time that I can remember. And that one time, we happened to both become Naked Smurfs! You can read about that summer, here: http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2012/05/summer-grampa-and-i-became-naked-smurfs.html . Grampa usually was not naked, unless showering, or changing. He never hid when he was doing these, but would not go about naked. The whole back yard was visible to the neighbors, but they were often naked, too, so nobody cared about anyone being seen nekkid. We often had friends over with us, or neighbors of Grandma’s would be over. Many of our friends would often go naked. Some of them did not care to be nekkid along with us, but they never complained that we were. There were occasions when a friend was not comfortable seeing others naked, and we would gladly wear our suits. I was naked as much as possible. Grandma, and Grandpa’s House was always comfortable, welcoming, and seldom judge-mental. There were no barriers. It did not matter if someone was young, or old, male, or female. At Grandma’s house, every single human was treated the same. Nobody even blinked, whether it was an infant, child, teenager, young adult, adult, or even an old person. It was Never seen as anything to be ashamed of, or in any way sexual. Nobody ever accused anybody of being inappropriate around children. The parents of our friends never once called us perverts, or thought of us as inappropriate. They also enjoyed the freedom their children were allowed to enjoy. There were photographs taken, and nobody ever once thought of it as child-pornography! Our society, as we knew it, was not hung-up on making nekkid into a bad thing. None of us were ever touched inappropriately, nor did we ever have anything sexual happen just from us being nekkid. We got soo much joy out of doing all the things we would do anyhow, but nekkid! Many times, it was fun to watch others discover this joy, freedom, and learn that naked was actually safe, free, and took away so many barriers in life. Also funny, and sometimes surprising was the eagerness of some to strip-off! (Often the ones you least expected, were the happiest nekkid.) It was also interesting to watch the surprise, and to some, the horror of them seeing Grandma, or any other “old” adult come out the back door, fully naked, and just walk to the pool, and go for a swim. Often, it was the adults who had the most hang-ups about seeing other people naked, or even to be seen nekkid by others, and it was always fun to watch them as they found out how easy it was to accept, and be accepted. It was always fun to see how they soon forgot they were naked. Even though Mom had her funny rules about it at home, and we were supposed to be nekkid at Grandma’s only when Mom was not there, often Mom would come over, and see us, and would just laugh.



Freedom taken Away at Age 12:

This freedom and joy continued until I was twelve. Most would guess that twelve is when I hit puberty, and it was because of that. I wish it were that simple. The Main event that changed for me when I was twelve was our sudden moving from California to Oregon, and the new environment that came with that move. My world got rocked, twisted, and turned completely upside down. Everything changed after that.
You can read more about "when My family moved out of state when I was at Summer Camp", Here: http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2011/09/surprise-your-family-moved-out-of-state.html
Or about suddenly finding myself in a new state, and new city in my blog titled "welcome to Portland, Oregon" : http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2011/09/to-portland-oregon.html
The Sudden move was life-altering, but there was more:

(Be forewarned: This paragraph contains a Very Disturbing event that happened to me)

Also, significant, and life-altering was an event that happened a few months before we moved: At twelve, another boy, a year older than me, attempted to sexually molest me. I say attempted, because I would not allow it. He and my brother were riding toward me in the alley. He stopped, and blocked me in a corner. My brother kept riding until he was halfway down the alley, then stopped to watch, grinning the whole time. The boy managed to get my pants down, and attempted many bad things that made me feel suddenly not good when naked. I understood right and wrong, and I knew better than to allow someone to do wrong in that manner to me. I resisted, and struggled with every ounce of my tiny body. I was a tiny kid, and this boy was big! I could not get him away from me, but I could resist his attempts, by keeping every muscle in my body tense, so he could not insert anything into me. He attempted everything you could imagine, and even tried to get me to do the same to him, but I would not have anything to do with any of that. I would not touch him, or willingly allow his touches. My head was spinning, and I could not form a clear thought to get away from him. At one point, I even had a rock in my hand, but he got that away from me. He had me on the ground, and did not care that he was hurting me, scraping on the gravel, and getting me dirty. He was a friend of my brother, and my brother watched as this happened in the alley a block from our house. Among the hundreds of things going through my mind was the one of “why does my brother hate me so much, and why is he always trying to have others hurt me?” The boy was frustrated, and threatened to beat me up if I did not allow him to do what he wished. I told him to go ahead and beat me up, because that was more acceptable than what he was hoping to do. I’d been in plenty of fights, already, and yes, I was scared, but knew that no matter what, eventually someone would come down this alley, and stop him. He threatened to steal my bike. He never beat me up, and then tried to make me smoke with him. I also refused to do this. He got frustrated, and shoved me to the ground, and rode off on his bike. He did not steal my bike when he left. My brother had gone by now. Not only did I feel dirty from this, I was also dirty, and scraped-up, humiliated, confused, scared, and hated my brother even more than I ever had. I pulled my pants up, and ran to our house with my bike, and told Dad what happened. My brother was not home. He told me to go shower. After the shower, He told me to never tell anyone about it. He took me out driving to find this boy. But I quickly learned he was not really trying to locate him. He also never said a word to my brother. That was The First thing that started to change my view about nekkid, and free. It was also the first time I was confused about “doing the right thing”. Why had Dad not done anything about this? He was the (retired) police officer! Why would he allow this? It was the first time I started to not trust other people.

I Learned early in life that naked was wonderful, and free… most of the time….. At age twelve, I learned it can be used for bad things.

My fear, and distrust of groups of boys:

As much as I loved Nekkid, I Would Never Be naked, or even be seen changing clothes in any area where there was a group of boys. (Even long before that boy tried to molest me) A couple of my own friends, yes, but a group, never! And If I had a choice, Never around My brother. This was especially troubling at Public Pools, Summer Camps, or even other camping trips, outdoor events, or road-trips with large groups. I would go to great effort to change inside a sleeping bag, or find a stall to change in (hoping nobody saw under the door, or through the cracks), always wear my swimsuit under my clothes, or even go as many days as possible without changing. I would find ways to get up extra early, so I could be changed before anyone else woke-up. Why, would it matter if there was a group of boys? I do know that something was done to me at a very early time in my life that made me very uncomfortable around many boys. All my life, I have sought the answer to this. My memory of most events in my life is incredibly vivid, and detailed. But this is something I do not have memory of. I have asked, and tried to understand. Maybe, the memories of what happened are best if I do not know. I do not know who did something to me, or what happened. I did often notice that there were certain people in my life that would never be seen naked, nor would they stick around when others were playing naked. I always found that strange. (This is different than those who would not be naked, but would still be accepting, and social with those who were.)

I learned early in life that Most Boys are extremely mean, cruel, hurtful, and not nice in any way. I found that a few were actually nice, and not mean, and those were the ones I was friends with. It is no surprise that I had more friends who were girls, than boys. And, ironically, the girls did not mind if I was naked, nor was I ever embarrassed to be seen naked by them. They were not mean. The girls accepted me, and enjoyed who I was, and allowed themselves to relax, play, and be free... the same as me. The last thing I was about to allow even more of was ridicule, vulnerability, and the chance to be caught, metaphorically speaking, ‘With My Pants Down’ around the boys who would be as mean as possible to me. I have always hated the way most boys behaved, and being naked around them just was not a comfortable thing.

7th grade: a new home, a new state, a new school, and a whole new level of mortal humiliation:

All my life, I have always been active, and actually enjoyed physical fitness, activities, being healthy, and learning about these things. At age 12, I started 7th grade. There was a class called P.E., which stood for “Physical Education”. It was mandatory, but I thought it was about learning more on a healthy lifestyle, and fitness. Imagine my horror when the very first day of being in a brand-new school, where I did not know a single other person, to find out the rest of what happens in P.E. All the boys have to go into a locker room without walls, doors, stalls, or anything else to find cover in, and change clothes. Everybody changes clothes at the same time, just inches from the other boys, and the teacher is standing there watching you change, too! Then after class, we all are marched back into the locker room, made to strip, and all take showers together in one big wide-open shower with a dozen shower-heads. The teacher (coach) stood right there, yelling at each of us, ordering us what to do, and making us stand right next to each other, and shower all together, with absolutely no walls, barriers, or even an inch of space between each other. Then you line-up, all together, cold, naked, wet, humiliated, and he hands you a “towel”. The towel they hand you is barely bigger than a washcloth, extremely thin, and smells like it has never been washed! And then you hurry to get dressed in your school-clothes so you can make it to your next class on time. The behavior of all the boys in the locker room was THE WORST I had ever been exposed to (Ha! Quite literally Exposed!!) I could not believe how horrible those people were! Even in front of the teacher, the inappropriate ways they would handle others, and themselves was the absolute most horrifying feeling ever. To all these boys, and even the teacher, this was considered normal. Nobody had ever taught these people to keep their hands to themselves. Then, in the next class, many of the same boys were in there. They were mean. It seems I was the only new kid. The rest in that class all knew one another. They talked about me. About how skinny I was. They talked about how I looked like a skeleton. About how my parts that designated me as ‘male’ looked compared to theirs. They talked about how I was not as developed as they were. They talked about how they had hair in places I did not. They talked about how scared I looked, and how freaked-out I was by their “normal” activities. Even the girls enjoyed their stories. This was going to be The Worst School! They were MEAN! That day, the school counselors got to know me. But the counselors did not see anything they thought was abnormal for junior high kids. They told me I was just new to this area, and would get used to it.

Walking home from school that first day, I learned that some of those mean boys that were in my P.E. class were also our neighbors. This meant that they were walking the same place I needed to walk. They took the opportunity to “establish” the pecking-order in the neighborhood. That day, I learned a new route home from school. It was easily a half-mile further to walk, but was well worth it. After I got home, I met some of the other neighbor kids. Oh, lucky me! All boys. Every house in the entire surrounding neighborhood All Boys…. And there was one girl. (I later learned there was another girl, too) All the boys were into football, basketball, fighting, wresting, and hunting. They all shot guns around the neighborhood on a regular basis. There were no fences around the yards. Everyone felt they could go through any yard any time they wanted. That meant there was absolutely no place I could escape to. There was absolutely no place I could call my own. There was no respect for personal boundaries. Inside the house, I had to deal with my brother. Outside, I had to deal with the neighbors, and at school, I had to deal with mean bullies.

Finding a safe hiding place:

All of a sudden, everybody I was around made me feel insecure, and want to curl-up, and hide. Hide my body, hide my spirit, hide my joy. Joy, fun, and freedom were not accepted in this place. My entire family suddenly was not accepting of naked anymore. Suddenly naked was shameful. I did not understand these sudden changes. It did not take long for me to withdraw from being social at all in this environment. I managed to create a tree-fort in a tiny little tree in our yard. This gave me a little place I could escape to. My Brother could not climb trees well, so he did not try. I built it solid enough, that I could block the opening from the inside, and none of the neighbors could get in easily. Oregon was not as good a place as California for staying outdoors for long periods of time. It rained a lot. On rare occasions, I could spend many hours, and even sometimes sleep in my tree-fort. That was a wonderful thing for me. I would get naked in my tree-fort. I had to keep it a secret because I was no longer in a safe environment. I was only safe inside my Tree-Fort. I also met the farmer, named Hank, who lived behind us. (My tree hung over his property). He was a nice guy. He would allow me to go anywhere on his property. He often started talking to me while I was in my tree. He gave me some boards to use, and many times I would help him with his farm. None of the neighbor boys were allowed on his property, and my brother had no interest in going there, so this became another safe place for me. We got to know each other, and he was very safe, and comfortable. He said he knew I was often naked in my tree, and I was welcome to be as naked as I felt comfortable in his property. His barns were wonderful, and he had many very large trees I could make a cozy-spot under. Often, when it was rainy, I would take my homework into one of his barns, be naked, and do my homework in a cozy, safe place. He had a large family that lived there, and I met most of them over time, but they seldom came out in the farm area. They used the yard near the house, mostly.

Secretly naked… or so I thought:

Hank knew my “hiding spots” and would often come and chat. The first few times, I would attempt to cover-up, but he always told me to relax. I soon realized he was the most comfortable, safe man I had ever been around, and I never tried to hide, or cover when he came around. He reminded me of my Grandpa. He never did anything unusual toward me, nor did he even seem to notice I was naked. I had found my safe place, and enjoyed every minute of my “secret” freedom. I say “secret” because I believed he was the only one who knew. It turned out that he informed his whole family, so none of them would accidentally make me uncomfortable. I had gotten so used to hearing him around, and not getting alarmed when I heard footsteps, that I was a bit surprised to look up and see his wife and daughter offering me some iced tea one summer day. I had been “hiding” under a tree reading for many hours, and they were concerned that I might not have enough liquid. I quickly tried to cover up, and his daughter started giggling, and shoving the glass of iced tea toward me, saying she had seen me naked every time I was out here, and she would not have come out if it was going to make me uncomfortable. I was a bit surprised! But I also could tell that her giggles were not making fun of me, but of a humored acceptance. I looked at her mom for reassurance that this was ok. She Smiled, and nodded her head. I was a bit baffled, but they managed to show they were sincere, and asked if they could join me. They sat down under the tree, and we just talked. They said I could stay naked, but they did not undress, which was fine with me! I had met hank’s wife before, and only heard that he had an “older daughter”. It turns out that she is in high school (I was in 7th grade). Neither one of them ever looked at my body as if it was a bad thing. While we talked, I was very aware of my vulnerability, and watched for the slightest sign that they might turn this against me somehow. I was extremely cautious how I went about life now. While we talked, there was not one single moment when either of these two ever made me uncomfortable. It was clear that the naked body was not something they saw as shameful. They explained how Hank had told them about me, and even told them where I liked to “hide”, so they could help me by not scaring me off. After sitting and talking a while, learning that they were just as safe and wonderful as Hank was, they asked if I wanted a tour of the house. I got my clothes on, and we went for a walk. It was a beautiful old farm-house. It even had a basement (which was full of all their home-grown stuff in glass jars they had canned themselves!), and a full-attic, with windows too! They showed me all the big rooms, and the little nooks. I was in love with the attic! We went back up there, and hank’s daughter showed me the window where she had her desk set-up. This was her own “hiding spot”. Then she explained that from her window, she could see the entire property, clear out to my tree-fort. No Wonder she had seen me nekkid every time I was out there! I sat in the chair, and looked out, then looked back at her. She just shrugged, and grinned. The grin, and the calm silence showed me two things that I would cherish forever. She accepted me, and even enjoyed that she could watch me out there. She had "secretly" watched me when I thought I was 'hiding' and naked. This was not a threat, or even bad. I was just a little boy, needing a safe place, and knew she did not see me in any other way. The smile she gave showed that she understood, and enjoyed my 'secret freedom'. I asked her how many others watched me. She told me that a few of her own friends also knew, and enjoyed seeing me find security, but that none of them ever had a problem with it. She told me I am safe there. She gave me a hug before we walked out. This, too, was wonderful! (I was not used to getting hugs, and to have someone who had just revealed she knew so much about me, and saw me often in my most vulnerable give me a loving, caring hug made a huge impact on me!) So, I Learned that I could indeed be nekkid, and safe in a mean world, as long as I kept it a “Secret”.

My Sister has Always been a safe person. She Never made me feel uncomfortable. She never minded if I was naked, and was the one person I never had to hide from. Right after moving to Oregon, She made sure she was Never seen naked anymore. Suddenly, she always hid, always went into a bathroom, and locked the door even just to change clothes. I also did not understand this sudden change in the one person who had shared as much of the joys of nekkid as I had. I tried to ask her about it, but it was suddenly an off-limits topic. Even when she suddenly changed, she still accepted me, no matter what. She Never made me uncomfortable about if she saw me nekkid. Often I was home alone, or it would just be me and my sister. I would often be naked for brief periods of time in the house, but Always nervous someone else would come home, so it was hardly freedom. I was always especially looking out for my brother, and made sure I would Never be naked around him. I got into the habit of making sure Nobody I knew would see me naked, with a few exceptions as I discovered a very few who were truly safe, but I mostly felt I needed to hide my nakedness.

That is the pattern I followed for almost the next 24 years. I knew I needed to keep my nekkid mostly a secret. I was made to feel my body was something that should never be seen. That changed in 2004. See blog titled “My First Time (Publicly) Nekkid”:
http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2011/08/wearin-only-purple-toenail-polish-and.html
That blog is the start of my finding my long-lost freedom in life…



You might wonder why I am writing, and exposing myself to the world. (Yes, I am telling anyone who cares enough to read this some things I have NEVER told anyone EVER before. Some of this, I have discussed and tried to keep open with many of my family, friends, and others when the time was right, but much of it has either been quickly dismissed, or made people uncomfortable, so the discussions never continued.) I have felt an urging to write many of the stories that have shaped my life. I am using creative expression by way of writing for many reasons. The first reason is for my own benefit. Call it selfish, but I feel the need to write these events. To me, it is very therapeutic to start writing when the thoughts, and mood occur. And Second, is purely my love for helping others to find understanding, acceptance, and possibly hope in either their own daily struggles, or possibly in helping someone they know. Perhaps it will help someone to understand me just a little bit. Whether it helps directly, or indirectly, if it helps at all, That is why I Find joy in this! If my writings of my struggles, and overcoming life’s obstacles manages to give you, or another understanding, hope, help you understand simply naked, encourages another to be a little more kind to another or just gives you a good laugh, and you forget your own troubles for even a moment then it is worth it. Thank You for Reading! I Hope You Have A Wonderful, and SAFE Day!! JOn~=:-)