Just today I had another incident of being caught naked in my own house. During the summer, I spend most of my time naked while indoors. My yard is not private and so I must dress to go outside, but inside I am as God created me.
I am a writer and like to write in comfort. That means without clothes, at least while the weather is warm. I don’t really have an office so I write on the couch, at the kitchen table, on the deck in warm weather, wherever the mood strikes me. I try to keep some sort of covering in the same room with me
I live is a small community. It is the habit of friends and family to knock, maybe, and walk in. I used to live in LA and it wasn’t done there, but here in upstate NY we don’t stand on formalities. That’s why I try to keep something nearby.
Today, I was sitting on my towel on the couch writing away. Someone came to the door and I was in the middle of a sentence. I took the few seconds to finish the sentence and then reached for my wrap. By then, the person was walking in the door with me clearly visible.
I’m not ashamed of my body and it is my house. I got the wrap around me, but I wasn’t panicked and I didn’t act as if there was anything wrong. I just covered up for my guest. Apparently it wasn’t fast enough or good enough.
“Didn’t you hear me knock?” my guest said.
“Yep,” I replied
I felt like saying, “Look, it’s my house. I’m a nudist. If you don’t want to see me naked, then call ahead or wait until I answer the door.”
The person in question knows about my nudist sentiments. Why would they think it strange that I might be naked in my own house? If people call ahead, I make sure I have my bits covered. All it takes is a call.
I used to run for the hills when someone knocked at the door. It was as if I felt ashamed of who I am and my nudist leanings. I finally figured out that it isn’t me that is confused about their body, it’s the other person. They are the one with the body shame and hang-ups, not me. Why should I be the one doing the hiding?
I try to be considerate of others, but in my own house, to quote Popeye, I yam what I yam.