Although I have never
met you I am taking the liberty of writing to you because I understand
that you and your husband have become interested in nudism... and are
probably wondering whether or not to take the step and visit camp this
summer. My husband and I are nudists and just like you we found
our way in by ourselves. However... remembering all the vague
fears and worries I fretted about which later proved groundless... I
would like to help you. Will you let me try..?
There are so many fine
books and magazines about nudists and nudism to advise on the really big
problems that I shall not attempt to discuss them. You are
probably pretty well satisfied in your mind about them at this stage any
way. It is those little worries... that buzz around like gnats
that can be really disturbing... I know they were to me.
I must admit that one
of my first reactions was the thought that I was considering doing
something that was contrary to everything I had ever been taught about
modesty and "common decency." I read all the literature
my husband brought home... and intellectually convinced myself that it
was a good thing... but there the feeling was... and it rankled.
Everyone assured me that once I had made my first visit that feeling
would be dispelled... but how was I ever going to get around it even
enough to let me make that first visit..? Then I began to reason
this way. Don and I have a very happy marriage. We'd shared
good and bad... and called the big decisions together and he had never
asked me to do anything that was wrong or really unpleasant. True
I had not wanted to do some things at first... I remember my first
airplane ride at his insistence... but it usually turned out that I
liked it in the end. Then... too... this thing meant a great deal
to him... I could see that... and I have always maintained it's a poor
wife who won't give her husband's requests and desires at least one try.
Although I didn't
discuss it with him... I was secretly worried that I wouldn't be as
attractive to him as I had been... compared with all the beautiful
figures I was sure must be there. I later found the answer to that
one in the normal human mixture of anatomy that was represented... the
great Average like myself... with a sprinkling of both better-than and
worse- than in the bargain. But the temporary solution I found was
the security I felt that our marriage was based on more than physical
attractiveness and that if I did fall a little short on that... our
mutual love and understanding would even the score. However...
being a woman... I began to watch the extra potatoes and ice cream...
and found those impossible ten minutes for a little exercise.
I must admit I wondered
a bit about the sort of people I was going to meet... half expecting
some "peculiar" bohemians out of the pages of a Greenwich
Village novel. I eyed the Marys... and Hanks... and Joes we met
with the gravest suspicion which is rather funny to me now that I have
come to know them better... Mary... the kindergarten teacher... Hank...
the local optometrist... and Joe... the patent-attorney. I was
much relieved to find I didn't have to put my clothes in limbo... so to
speak... until we were ready to leave... and was mighty glad to put some
of them on again when my shoulders began to burn. I had one rather
silly notion which I acquired from looking over some pictures of the
early camps and parks. Almost every second picture showed a
shivering nudist being doused with cold water from a bucket by helpful
friends... or a few industrious souls exercising madly under a broiling
sun. I made up my mind that if such was the case... there I would
draw the line.
Neither Don or I liked
the idea of being herded into any sort of planned recreation... and it
was a pleasant surprise to find no one expected you to do anything
except just what you wanted to do. If we seemed inclined to
talk... there was usually someone to talk to... and we didn't once feel
left out... for there were plenty of invitations to join the volleyball
game or badminton or whatever was going. I permanently resigned
from volleyball after several unsuccessful attempts to get the darn
thing over the net... but Don loves it. It was a wonderful feeling
to meet entirely new people... and enjoy new interests and
activities. By the time we were enjoying "seconds" in
coffee at dinner that first evening... we no longer felt like
new-comers. There were no cliques to crash... and with everyone on
a first name basis there was no ice to be broken. That is a
peculiar thing you have to experience to believe... but there is a
friendliness about nudists that you find in no other group. As for
Don and I... we have come to count our nudist friends among our
closest. They wear very well.
But so much for me and
my experiences. I hope they helped. Now... if I may make a
suggestion -- since it is still not quite the season for all the camps
and parks to be open... why don't you try your hand at being a nudist in
the privacy of your own home. After all... charity isn't the only
thing that begins there. Try sleeping nude... if you don't already
-- once you get used to it you won't want to sleep any other way.
That's the first easy step. Then... when you have your shower or
bath... don't grab for a robe except for comfort... of course -- do your
nails or set your hair or whatever. I think you'll enjoy it.
If you've been egged on
to some slimming exercises by the fashion columns or helpful friends...
try them without clothes... it feels wonderful. Of course if all
this is "old hat" to you... you are half nudist already.
That's all it really is... you know... since it's convenient and
healthful at times to dispense with clothes -- nudists do. We're
not different from other people... just more comfortable.
Well... I have to stop
and get supper now. I hope I've been able to help a little. Try it out at home... if you haven't... and then tell your husband
you'll give it a try at camp this summer. I know it will bring you closer together than you have ever been... just as it did for Don and
me... and you both will be happy..!
See you at the park this summer.
Sincerely, Pam