That trip to France changed my entire perspective on the body. My parents and I were just walking along the shore when, without noticing the signs, we stepped right onto a nude beach. My father started panicking, awkwardly trying to block my view, while my mother hissed, “Olga, don’t look, what a disgrace!”. But honestly, I was just left speechless.

I’ve always considered myself slim and fit, but it was only there that I understood what that actually looks like—absolute naturalness. People were just living: sunbathing, reading, chatting. There was nothing dirty about their nakedness, just an incredible sense of freedom. I was staring with wide eyes, and that image burned into my memory as a symbol of something I was desperately missing.

After returning home to Canada, I realized I wanted to try it for myself. I talked my friend Chloe into it—she’s very tall and slender. We found a completely secluded spot on a local river, overgrown with willows, where it seemed like no one would ever find us.

When we undressed, the sensations were intense. First, a chill on the skin and a moment of light panic, but then a wave of pure bliss hit me. Being completely naked in the open air is almost a physical pleasure, with its own hint of sexuality. You feel vulnerable, yet at the same time incredibly alive and alluring.

However, our privacy didn’t last long. About thirty minutes later, a local fisherman named Mark drifted around the bend in his boat.

Of course, we instinctively moved to cover up at first, but he acted so casually, as if coming across two naked girls in the bushes was just part of his daily catch. He started joking, trying to introduce himself, and even pulled out an inflatable ball: “Hey girls, how about some volleyball?”. Chloe and I just burst out laughing. The suggestion was so ridiculous that the fear completely evaporated. We chatted with him for about ten minutes; I could feel his gaze sliding over my figure, and I have to admit, it was actually quite flattering. We gave him fake phone numbers just to end the conversation politely, and he paddled away.

That day confirmed my suspicions: I love this. I can’t say I’m a hardcore nudist yet, but that feeling of the sun on every inch of my skin is addictive. Now I know for sure that the next stop is a real nude beach, where I won’t have to hide in the willows from random boats. That door has opened, and I have no intention of closing it.