Going to a nude beach was never on my bucket list of places to explore.
I honestly thought it was something I would only be able to find in Europe, not a sandy strip on the New Jersey coastline.
My relationship had just ended and I drove down to Sandy Hook, part of the Gateway National Recreational Area, to walk the beach and clear my mind. I had never explored the area, but had driven past it on my previous beach getaways down Ocean Avenue.
Starting at the closest beach to the entrance, I put my headphones on, my music blasting, and began what would end up being a two hour sandy walk in one-direction from beach to beach.
I thought it would be quite some time before seeing a naked man again. Little did I know, it would only take 48 hours post-break-up and I would be surrounded by 700 naked fellas.
At first I thought I accidentally stumbled upon a man changing, as I was in a pretty desolate part of the shore during my long walk. I quickly turned my head the other direction, only to walk another hundred meters and run into two men holding hands, walking towards me… fully nude.
I kept walking, unsure where to look, or where the heck I even was anymore.
About a quarter mile later, I knew exactly where I was.
I was in a nudist’s paradise.
I strolled past the naked men playing beach volleyball, the 50-something nude husband and wife holding hands as they walked along the water, and the 80 year old man, with only a yellow umbrella, splashing his feet in the shallow waves.
I couldn’t help but just sit on the sand, people-watch, and take in this oddly cathartic experience.
Things I learned:
Acceptance
I saw it all.
Stretch marks, scars, penises of all sizes, piercings in places that looked extremely painful, tight abs, wrinkly skin, perky boobs, flat chests, the waxed and the furry.
You name it. I saw it.
We all saw it.
Yet there was no judgement.
In a world of social media, where posts are so curated to portray individuals in the way they want others to see them, I was amazed by the level of comfort and acceptance exhibited here on Gunnison Beach.
Nude body after nude body, there was a simple level of self-acceptance and confidence that was refreshing beyond belief.
Women sunbathing with books in hand, chatting about what they want to get at the farmer’s market.
A man who got up out of his beach chair to tell another man to turn down his loud music.
The man wearing only a face mask and nothing else.
Daily life happenings. Just minus the clothing.
It was people who were living like no one was watching, because in all honesty, no one was watching. Everyone was so caught up in being present in their own life experiences that they weren’t distracted by the possible thoughts or opinions of those around them.
How beautifully liberating.
Childhood advice was accurate.
Remember that tip everyone use to give before you had to give a presentation or go on stage?
“Just picture everyone naked.”
Well, I didn’t have to imagine anyone naked because they actually were in their full birthday suits, surrounding me in all directions. But I must admit, everyone being naked really does calm the mind and relax the body.
There were so many inaccurate assumptions that I had about nude beaches.
“Eww… I would never… uncomfortable… weird…”
In reality, it was the most comfortable and relaxing beach experience I’ve ever had.
I got up from my sandy spot where I had been sunbathing for an hour and headed down to the water where I started chatting with some individuals. After a few minutes, I completely forgot that they were nude and we were talking about our hometowns and the delicious smoothie truck near the parking lot.
My expected discomfort and my inaccurate assumptions faded rather quickly.
I was in a place where people were authentic, weren’t out to impress, and were simply living life.
My mind was quiet and I was overcome with an unexpected sense of calmness.
Childhood advice for the win.
No clothes. No problem.
I’ll never forget the experience my freshman year in college when I had to share a hotel room with another student during an event. Within five minutes she had stripped down completely and was walking around unpacking her clothes. She told me how she preferred to be nude.
I’ll admit, I thought she was the weirdest person and I never wanted to room with her again.
Fast forward twenty years and my opinion about that level of comfortability being nude has shifted (although please never strip down in front of a roommate with no warning!). I spent the day surrounded by individuals who embraced imperfection, were vulnerable enough to show themselves physically, and had a level of bad-ass self-acceptance, comfort, and courage that was pretty darn amazing.
Cheers to the nude!
Will you find me relocating from the #518 to a nudist colony anytime soon?
Probably not. (Although I was invited by someone on the beach to a nudist camp up in the Adirondacks. I graciously declined.)
But have I returned to Gunnison Beach since?
Hell yeah. It’s an awesome beach whether you strip down or keep on your suit!
And I recommend you give it a try once too.
