I liked the swimming. Walking back to my towel was another matter.
From Sam:
Before the break, Jordan wrote in with questions about visiting a nude beach for the first time. He was seventeen, hadn’t tried social nudity, and wasn’t especially happy with his body. He wanted to know what people actually did there, what happened if he felt awkward, and whether he’d really stop noticing he was naked after a few minutes.
He promised to write again, even if he backed out. Before we closed, he told us he’d gone and had the account ready.
From Jordan_17:
I went.
I know I already told you that, but I spent quite a while thinking this email was going to start with an explanation of why I didn’t.
My uncle drove. He knew where we were going, and he wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it if I changed my mind. We’d agreed on that before we left. I still asked him again in the car.
He said yes, we could leave.
Then he asked if I wanted the last piece of gum.
At the end of the path, I could see people on the beach. Some were in the water. A couple were moving their stuff because the shade had moved. Someone was holding a sandwich in one hand and trying to open a folding chair with the other.
I’d spent so much time thinking about getting there that I hadn’t thought about what happened immediately afterward.
Where do you put your bag?
That was my first problem. Not any of the six questions I’d sent you. A bag.
My uncle asked where I wanted to sit. I said I didn’t care, then rejected the first place he suggested because it was too close to other people.
We found another spot.
I spread out my towel and sat down with my clothes still on. He went to the water and said he’d be nearby.
I decided to get everything out of my bag first.
Water bottle. Sunscreen. Food. A shirt I wasn’t going to need unless I decided I needed it, which was still possible.
Then I put the food back because we weren’t eating yet.
Very productive. Glad I came.
There wasn’t a moment when I suddenly felt ready. I just ran out of things to unpack.
I looked around once more, undressed, put my clothes in the bag, and sat down.
Nobody reacted.
I don’t mean nobody looked in my direction. People did. Someone walking past glanced over, and I immediately wondered whether I’d done something wrong.
Then they kept walking.
I couldn’t tell you what they were thinking. I still can’t. That was annoying because I’d hoped it would be obvious when someone was just looking around and when they were looking at me.
Apparently you don’t get that information.
I stayed on the towel for a bit. I was very aware of being naked. Also of where my hands were, which had never been a difficult question when I was wearing shorts.
I drank some water because that gave one hand a job.
Eventually, my uncle came back and asked if I wanted to swim.
I said, “In a minute.”
He said, “Okay,” and sat down.
That was worse, somehow. If he’d kept asking, I could have been annoyed with him. Instead, I had to decide.
I wanted to go in. I just didn’t particularly want to walk there.
The water wasn’t far away. From my towel, though, it looked like a distance people should train for.
I got up before I could turn it into another discussion.
Nobody stopped what they were doing. I stepped around somebody’s bag, got to the wet sand, and walked into the water.
It was colder than I expected.
I said, “Oh, shit.”
My uncle, already farther in, said, “Yep.”
Useful warning. Excellent timing.
I stood there for a while, then went farther because being partly in was somehow more irritating than getting it over with.
Once I was swimming, I had something else to think about. The water. Where my uncle was. Whether I could still touch the bottom. I floated for a bit and got water in my ear.
I wasn’t checking who might be looking at me.
I don’t know how long that lasted. I wasn’t timing it.
Then I came out, saw people sitting up the beach, and remembered all over again.
So, about the five-minute thing.
Maybe that happens to some people. It didn’t happen to me like that. I stopped thinking about it while I was doing something, then thought about it again when I stopped.
That doesn’t mean the swimming part was secretly awful. It wasn’t. I liked it. I just hadn’t permanently forgotten the rest.
Back at our spot, the corner of my towel had folded over. I tried to straighten it with my foot because I was holding the water bottle.
I kicked sand onto it.
Then I tried shaking the sand off without moving the bottle, and spilled water.
I put the bottle down.
There. Another question answered. What do people do at a nude beach? Sometimes they fail to operate a towel.
We ate after that. I was hungry, which surprised me even though we’d brought lunch specifically because we expected to get hungry.
A man walking past stopped a few feet away and asked whether the path beside us went back to the parking area.
I said, “It’s my first time.”
He waited.
That was not what he’d asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s the one we came down.”
He thanked me and went.
I’d been ready to explain why I was there to somebody who wanted directions.
My uncle was opening the food container. If he’d heard, he didn’t say anything.
Most of the people near us seemed older than me. I noticed that. I didn’t talk to enough of them to have anything useful to say about it, and nobody came over to ask my age or introduce me to everyone.
I was relieved about that.
We stayed a while longer. My uncle went back into the water. I stayed on the towel, ate the rest of my sandwich, and watched someone farther down trying to keep a beach umbrella upright.
At some point I realized I wasn’t waiting for anything anymore. I wasn’t waiting to undress or go swimming or have somebody tell me I’d made a mistake.
I was just sitting there.
Then I started wondering whether I looked weird sitting there.
Still me, unfortunately.
When my uncle came back, I said I was ready to leave. He asked if I wanted another swim first.
I didn’t.
He dried off, and we packed up.
I wasn’t miserable. I also wasn’t trying to stay until I’d reached some required level of comfortable. I’d gone in the water, eaten lunch, and been there long enough for one day.
I got dressed and helped carry our stuff back.
In the car, he asked whether I’d want to go again.
I said probably.
Not next weekend. I hadn’t planned that far ahead.
I still don’t like everything about my body. That hadn’t changed when we got home. But I liked being in the water enough that I’d go back for that.
I’d bring a bigger towel, too. Mine was fine for sitting. When I tried to lie down, my feet stuck off the end.
I brushed the sand off them before putting my shoes on.
There was still some in the car.
Next: You Said You Didn’t Mind. “Coming November 5”
