Taking your clothes off is easy. Lowering your guard? That’s hard.

When I woke up this morning, I knew just what I needed to do. Normally my mind wakes up and wants to procreate, but, well, this morning was something a bit different.

This morning, it wanted to write a post about dating naked.

For context, last night I watched an episode of Dating Naked USA on Channel 4. I couldn’t tell you which episode it was or who the contestants were, but I decided that for this post, such information might not be essential anyway.

Also for context, I am a lifelong naturist who has also kinda dated naked. I am very comfortable naked, although sadly these days, I don’t get to be naked nearly often enough.

The premise of Dating Naked is simple: contestants are matched with a date, then they strip off and get to know one another and interact with the other housemates, naked and in a technology-free, tropical setting. “Naked newbies” are introduced to shake things up, and at the end of the episode, contestants get to decide who they want to keep dating – their “Keeper” – and who they want to send home.

For the finale, contestants get to compete with other couples for money.

And so it goes.

Unlike Naked Attraction, intimacy is allowed, but consent and respect are a must. Also unlike Naked Attraction, swimwear is permissible for personal comfort, but everyday clothing is still banned. I suspect that contestants are similarly pre-screened to check their comfort levels with nudity in front of the cameras.

So let’s spill the tea.

What made last night’s episode so entertaining was that one male contestant told another — in a jealous rage — “you can have her” (one of the female contestants), and a whole fight broke out over her honour, and who had been “given a chance” (by the girl in question) and not. That resulted in her picking neither of the gentlemen, and picking another guy entirely, who she said she had enjoyed getting to know, and who had prioritised her comfort and emotional safety in all of this drama.

Priorities, y’all. Women don’t want a white knight; they want a mature partner who makes them feel safe, respected and prioritised.

So while I was watching the show, Master Levi trundled in and had some quite negative views about the “ridiculous” idea of dating naked, and how it always leads to people going by looks alone. I get his sentiments, but I’m not sure I agree.

You see, many years ago, I also dated naked. It wasn’t my intention and it wasn’t allowed in the club. Just like my relationship with the Admiral and the Lovehoney Forum, my intention was only to show up to the naturist swimming club and interact with like-minded people.

But, well, there was David.

David overheard me discussing football (of all things) with one of the older gentlemen at the club, and my Mum.

A quick sidenote: families practicing naturism is not weird. My family were naturists from when I was very young to just before my 18th birthday. In fact, you will likely see many families at naturist clubs and resorts, who aren’t bothered at all by seeing one another naked until you point it out. I know, shocker!

From that conversation, though, David learned that I am a Bristol Rovers supporter (reluctantly and only because my mother was, but anyway).

When he saw me alone one day, David – who was a Bristol City supporter – approached me and tormented me about my “terrible choices”.

So he started the “war” between us. Or rather, continued the “war” between the two teams.

But you know, we’re Pirates. We’re used to it from Bristol Shitty; we take it in our stride.

Me being me, I said Bristol City only stayed so high up in the league table because Bristol Rovers were holding them up from the bottom. I’d say that he should thank me for my indirect support.

We were not nice to one another. David would call us “Gasheads” — the nickname Bristol City coined for Bristol Rovers supporters — and I’d call him a “Shithead” — the Rovers-recognised nickname for a Bristol City fan.  David would say that I swam like Rovers played — poorly. So I’d return fire and say that he’d go the same way his beloved team would go without us if he even tried to beat me in a swimming race — he’d sink to the bottom, gloriously defeated by a Pirate.

Even in the mixed showers, we’d be at one another again. We couldn’t touch one another — sexual contact was against the club rules. Instead, I’d take my sweet ass time, showering extra-meticulously in front of David, or conditioning my hair one extra time and moaning while I did it.

If I had to suffer David, then David would have to suffer me.

David and I were very much “on” from that point. He’d never admit he had a crush on me though — I was just a girl at the pool — and I’d never admit that I fancied him. He was inconvenient, predictable, annoying. He was a Shithead, and I could never date a Shithead!

We’d torment one another constantly, but it was never flirting. Flirting and touching were against the club rules.

No, it was how awful the other team was, or how crazy their fans were for supporting them.

It wasn’t “flirting”; it was rivalry with love attached.

I’d never admit that I purchased waterproof make-up so I could look better for David. I’d never admit that I wanted him to chase me and kiss me in the corridor beside the pool, and I’d never admit that I was sad and lonely and bored on the days when David didn’t show up.

David was our sworn enemy, and I could never be seen dating the enemy!

As it was, David and I never did work out. That had to do with us both wanting different things from our would-be relationship, more than it had anything to do with our interpersonal chemistry, or which football team was the best (Bristol Rovers, obviously).

We’d started texting outside of swimming, and David asked me one day if we could make love. I had to explain to him that I’m kinky: I don’t do vanilla relationships; I only date fellow kinky people.

I had to explain to David that a relationship without kink just doesn’t do anything for me. I would be bored in our relationship, and David deserved much better than a partner who was bored of him.

David had no interest in kink, though he kept pursuing me anyway. Eventually I ended up blocking him, though I’ve never forgotten the chemistry we had.

So what is it like to actually date naked?

The one thing I say time and time again is it’s always amazing just how quickly you forget about clothing, and even begin to see it as restrictive. Nobody is perfect in naturism, but naturists are by far some of the nicest and most accepting people you can ever meet. You forget your nakedness and focus wholly on the person in front of you, who you are interacting with.

And even if you are feeling a bit insecure, then the other person is naked too. You can laugh off the nerves together, which is sometimes exactly all you both need to bring your guard right down!

Until next time.

Stay safe & have fun,

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