Being Single in a Nudist World: Awkward, Empowering, or Both?

When I tell people I visit nude resorts and beaches alone, the reactions are usually a mix of surprise, curiosity, and a little envy. But what’s it really like to be single in a nudist world?

The short answer? It’s both awkward and empowering — sometimes within the same afternoon.

The Awkward Bits (Because Yes, They Happen)

Let’s be real. It’s not always sunshine and liberation. My first nude experience was at a beach, and while it was freeing, there were definitely a few uncomfortable moments. Like the fully clothed people who come just to stare. They don’t say anything — but their presence feels invasive. Thankfully, those people are the exception, not the rule.

What quickly drowns out the awkwardness is the kindness of everyone else. Most of the folks at the beach were warm, welcoming, and completely unbothered. That sense of comfort is even stronger at nudist resorts and clubs — especially the ones that aren’t clothing-optional. Everyone is nude, or maybe wrapped in a sarong if they’re chilly. That shared vulnerability creates a surprising sense of safety.

Still, I’d be lying if I said I don’t get shy. Every time I visit a new place, I stick to myself at first, worried I’ll have no one to talk to. But within minutes, someone usually smiles, says hello, and just like that… I’m part of the community.

And then there are the saunas.

For me, they’re still a little awkward. Maybe it’s the heat, the enclosed space, or the fact that everyone is already sweaty and sitting so close. I’m self-conscious about body odor and sweat, so I tend to only go in if it’s empty or if I’m with someone I know. Just last weekend, I went in and chatted with a kind older gentleman about our mutual love of music. It was lovely — until more people came in. Suddenly, I was the only woman in a sauna with six men. They weren’t inappropriate at all. They included me in the conversation. But between the heat, the tight space, and being the only woman, I quietly excused myself. No drama. Just listening to my gut.

And Then… the Empowerment Kicks In

Despite the occasional discomfort, being a single woman in naturist spaces has made me feel stronger, freer, and more alive than I ever expected.

There’s something wildly liberating about waking up and walking out your front door completely nude — no bra, no waistband digging into your skin, no expectations. Just you, your body, and the sun on your skin as you head to the gym, grab a coffee, or play a game of pickleball. (Yes, the first time I played nude I worried my boob might smack me in the face. It didn’t. But if it had? Worth it.)

And hiking? That’s on a whole other level. I’ve hiked up a mountain in nothing but hiking boots, letting the breeze kiss every part of my body as I climbed. Reaching the summit, overlooking a lake below, I felt powerful. Not just physically — although that too — but emotionally. I wasn’t shrinking. I wasn’t covering up. I was just being. And that, for a woman who used to judge every inch of herself in the mirror, felt revolutionary.

These experiences have reshaped how I see my body. It’s not something I need to fix or hide. It’s a vessel that carries me through this life, and I’ve started appreciating it more for what it does than how it looks. When you’re nude around others who aren’t focused on appearance, you stop obsessing too. You realize how diverse and beautiful real bodies are — scars, rolls, tan lines, stretch marks, and all. No one’s looking for perfection. They’re looking for connection.

Over time, I stopped waiting for someone else to validate me. I stopped worrying if I was too much or not enough. I started showing up anyway. I let myself be seen — not just physically, but emotionally. And with every solo trip, I found pieces of myself I didn’t know I’d lost.

The confidence I’ve gained in these spaces has spilled over into every other part of my life. I speak up more. I laugh louder. I take up space — physically and emotionally — without apology. I wear what I want. I trust my gut. And I even catch myself looking in the mirror and thinking, “Damn, you look good today,” even when I haven’t showered and my hair’s a mess.

So… Is It Awkward or Empowering?

The answer is both.

It’s awkward to be the only naked person on a beach surrounded by gawkers in jeans. It’s awkward to walk into a new club alone. But it’s also empowering to stay anyway. To talk anyway. To be yourself anyway.

And every time I do that, I leave a little stronger than I arrived.