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 Dear Simon,
My boyfriend is a nudist — really! He loves to be naked and says clothing makes him feel claustrophobic. Initially, this posed no problem — our time together rarely seemed to necessitate clothing. As the year has worn on, however, I’ve begun to resent the nudity. It’s extended beyond the playful breakfast-cooking episodes and into weekend-long beach forays. In the interest of compromise, I’ve gone to the nude beach with him, but I felt completely exposed and uncomfortable. Unfortunately, he has little sympathy for me. He tells me that I have a beautiful body and my discomfort lies in some antiquated notion of morality and sexuality foisted on me by “ultraconservative prudes.” While I am perfectly comfortable with my body, I don’t want to share it with other people. Would you ever go to a nude beach? Is there something wrong with me? —Modest
Dear Modest,
In the interest of full disclosure (no pun intended), I must confess that I have been to a nude beach, and I found that after five minutes’ awkwardness, it felt perfectly natural. In fact, I was amazed to discover on my arrival in California that the beaches here weren’t even topless! However, that was back in the days when I had the body of a young Adonis, and given that most nudists are overweight, middle-aged Germans who look like subspecies of walrus, I fully sympathize with your predicament.
The truth is that whether you are comfortable with your body or inhibited by antiquated notions of sexuality doesn’t really matter. It’s your body, and if you don’t feel comfortable sharing it with a horde of tubby Europeans, you don’t have to. That’s why God gave us the bikini. As a practical solution, I suggest you confess to your boyfriend that the real reason you don’t want to go to the nude beach with him is because you are embarrassed by the size of his bishop. He’ll soon put his shorts on.
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