I never thought of going nude in private, much less in public

I was raised in a very traditional Jewish background. We were supposed to dress modestly at all times. I never thought of going nude in private, much less in public.
Then one day I came home from work very tired. I just wanted to put on my nightie and get into bed. But it was a hot summer day and evening, and I was sweaty, so I showered first–which is obviously the one thing I always did naked, though I never gave that any thought.
I came out of the shower and dried off. I wasn’t sweaty anymore, but I was exhausted. I just collapsed on the bed, too tired to even notice that I hadn’t bothered to put anything on. I fell asleep in minutes.
When I woke up, I was a bit surprised to realize that I had not only had I slept nude the entire night, but it was the best night’s sleep I ever had. The next night, I wasn’t so tired–but I couldn’t stop thinking about how good it felt to sleep nude. So I decided to try it on purpose this time.
I got into bed naked, and it felt very good. I slept well again that night, and in the morning I felt so comfortable and relaxed that I didn’t want to get up and get dressed. But of course I had to.
From there, it was a relatively short time till I was usually nude when home alone, because it felt so good. I felt a little bit guilty for awhile because it went against everything I had been taught since childhood. But the comfort outweighed the guilt.
However, the idea of letting other women see me naked in public–much less men!– never crossed my mind. I still had some Jewish modesty. Being a Californian, from the greater LA area, I had heard of nude beaches. But I had no desire to visit one.
Being a good Californian though, I did spend a lot of free time on the beach in the summer–always wearing a bathing suit, of course. And one day, while I was changing out of my wet and sandy bathing suit, I began to think about how good it felt to take it off. And the more I thought about it, the more I began to contemplate the prospect of skinnydipping.
One very hot Sunday in August, I made a brave decision: I was going to find out if I had the nerve to overcome my strait-laced upbringing. I got into my car and drove south to San Diego, and parked at the cliff over Black’s Beach. For almost 20 minutes, I sat in the car, trying to work up enough nerve to make the climb down to a place where I knew I would see naked men and women. I almost didn’t go. Jewish guilt was taking hold of me.
But as I started to turn the key to drive away, I couldn’t do it. I was determined that the time I spent driving down there wasn’t going to be wasted. I had come to see a nude beach, and I was not going to leave without seeing it.
Slowly, I started to walk down the trail to the beach. Actually that’s the only way you can do it, but I was going slower than necessary. Finally, I reached the bottom, and could hardly believe what I was seeing. There were lots of men, most of them naked. There were women in all stages of dress and undress. There were families with young children.
I found an uncrowded spot and put my towel down, and sat down on it, having no idea what I was going to do next. Part of me wanted to pull everything off and go running into the ocean. Part of me felt horrible for being in such a place.
I closed my eyes, and thought, and thought some more. The idea of taking off my clothes in front of men–how could a nice Jewish girl do that? But there were other women there, and they took their clothes off, and they had no problem with letting men see them.
The ocean looked more and more inviting. The guilt weighed on me. Even if I stayed clothed, just being in such a place and seeing such sights was wrong. For almost an hour, I was torn. I went back and forth–and finally, the ocean won. If it was a sin to be here anyway, it couldn’t be any worse of a sin to participate. If these people saw me naked, they wouldn’t be seeing anything they hadn’t seen before.
Quickly, before I could think again and change my mind, I stripped. I took everything off, and ran into the ocean. As the waves washed over me, it washed the guilt away. I felt wonderful. I was skinnydipping in public, in mixed company, and enjoying it thoroughly. I came out of the ocean, and the feeling of not wearing a wet sandy bathing suit felt terrific.
From that moment on, I was a new person. I’m still a traditonal Jew. I eat only kosher food, and I don’t drive on the Sabbath. I still go to the synagogue on Sabbaths and Festivals. But I am a Jewish nudist, and I love it.