When I walked into the living room, I discovered my boyfriend’s secret. And that wasn’t all he exposed. By Helen Berriman, 46
I slid my key into the lock and pushed open the front door.
‘I’m back!’ I called out.
I’d come home from work early and I thought my boyfriend Simon would be in the living room.
He was.
But I wasn’t prepared for the sight that met my eyes.
As I stepped into the room, my mouth dropped open and I shrieked.
‘What the heck are you doing?’ I yelled.
Simon was sitting at his desk — and he was completely naked.
It was the middle of the day, and he didn’t have a stitch on him.
He looked as shocked as I did.
‘What do you mean?’ he said. ‘I told you about this.’
I stared back at him, bewildered. But then I remembered something.
Before we’d moved in together, he’d mentioned enjoying a clothing-optional lifestyle.
Back then, I hadn’t understood what he meant.
But now I certainly did.
He meant wandering about in the nude.
And I wasn’t happy.
My eight-year-old daughter lived with us, and she could have walked in at any time.
‘Put some clothes on!’ I shouted and stormed out.
When I calmed down, however, I agreed to talk things over.
‘Sometimes I like to be naked,’ Simon said. ‘It desexualises the body and helps people enjoy it as something natural.’
I wanted to understand, but because I’d suffered sexual abuse in the past, I was struggling.
In the end, I agreed to a compromise.
‘I’m fine with you doing it when nobody else is here,’ I said.
‘What about naked events?’ he asked. ‘There’s a
5k naked run coming up.’
I thought about it, and then tried to shake the image from my head.
‘That’s fine,’ I said. ‘I just don’t want to hear about it.’
So, for years, Simon kept that part of his life separate.
But while he was out showing off his body, I was in a constant battle
with mine.
When we’d first got together, I’d been a size 14, but over the years I’d crept up to a size 20 and weighed 15 stone.
It was only when Covid came along that I started to make some changes.
Furloughed and stuck at home in Bromley, Greater London, I had the time to make healthy meals from scratch.
And within weeks the weight started to drop off me.
After six weeks, I’d lost two stone and three dress sizes.
Feeling good about myself, I bought a bikini and plucked up the courage to wear it in the garden.
‘You look incredible,’ Simon said.
Then he asked: ‘Can I take some pictures of you?’
He was an amateur photographer, but the thought of being in front of the camera with barely anything on made me feel sick.
‘I don’t think so,’ I said.
'What the heck are you doing?'
‘Oh, come on,’ he pleaded. ‘I promise to delete them if you don’t like them.’
So, after a bit of pestering,
I gave in.
I posed as Simon snapped away, and it was a lot more fun than I thought it would be.
When the time came to view the images, I could barely look.
But I was in for a surprise.
‘I don’t actually look that bad,’ I said.
It gave me a boost and so, when I came across an advert on Facebook looking for models of all ages and sizes, I took the plunge.
I’d had a couple of glasses of wine and, feeling brave, I sent a couple of images from my bikini shoot.
To my astonishment, I got a reply.
Shortly after, I did some modelling for a lingerie company and other jobs followed.
My confidence rocketed.
Then Simon got involved
in photography shoots to normalise nudity, and he asked me to take part.
I laughed.
‘Not a chance,’ I said.
But he explained I wouldn’t have to be naked.
‘We’re doing a reverse life drawing class,’ he told me. ‘Naked people will be painting you with clothes on.’
I wasn’t wild about the idea of standing in front of a group of nude people, but I wanted to be supportive, so I agreed.
On the day, as we arrived at the naturist resort, I didn’t know where to look.
There were boobs and bums everywhere, and Simon was quick to join in, whipping off his clothes.
But I hung back, feeling awkward.
When the shoot started, 30 naked people gathered around me as I posed for them.
My cheeks were burning red as I stared ahead, trying not to look anywhere I shouldn’t!
But once we’d finished, I started to loosen up a bit and found it easier to chat to people.
They were all so friendly and, after a while, I stopped thinking about their bits and bobs.
In fact, I started feeling like the odd one out in my clothes.
It was a hot day and I was sweating in the dress I was wearing, so I thought: You know what? Stuff it!
Then without a word, I pulled my dress over my head and slipped my bra and knickers off.
Glancing around, I braced myself for stares and gasps, but nobody batted an eyelid.
The only person who noticed was Simon.
He rushed over with a huge grin on his face and said: ‘Look at you! You look fantastic.’
For the rest of the day, I wandered around without my clothes on, and I felt really free.
I even agreed to take part in the other shoots, naked this time.
By the end of the day, I felt so comfortable that I booked a return visit to the resort for the following weekend — and I loved it.
It was also the lightest packing
I’d ever done for a break!
Now, Simon and I go around our home naked all the time.
My daughter found it weird at first, but now she doesn’t mind. She knows we’re promoting body positivity and normalising nakedness, not sexualising it.
I’m now the campaign coordinator for British Naturism, and a writer about body freedom.
This is the most confident I’ve ever been, and I’d love to help other people feel the same way.
Naturism is a great leveller.
Without our clothes, we’re all the same.
● You can follow Helen on Twitter @HelenBerriman17 or contact her at Helen.Berriman@bn.org.uk