Mental nudity is like sex without physical touching. As a mental nudist, I bare my thoughts, exposing the deepest parts of who I am to whoever reads my writing or listens to what I say. I show the other my essential self.
Sexual intercourse requires physical touching and can include faked orgasms, whispered “I love yous” that really mean “I love how what we just did makes me feel”. There is a sense of having shared something intimate, but then you get up, get dressed, and leave, perhaps to never see each other again. The memory of the moment gradually fades.
The mental nudist gives away something that can never be taken back, what has been given is not forgotten and cannot be changed, excluding a lobotomy or the onset of Alzheimer’s.
There is therefore a lingering vulnerability, an intimacy; a thrill of connectedness. The mental nudist shares emotional and mental authenticity and moves a step closer to true love. How can you truly love what you cannot experience honestly?
When a mental nudist bares their mind and soul, they offer a total emotional and intellectual response to their external reality to the other. Privately, this can engender true love; publicly, this can create an incredible support system among those who believe in living an authentic life.
Perhaps the closest parallel between mental nudity and sexual intercourse is in edge play between lovers. In this kind of lovemaking, there is a dominant and a submissive. It is an exploration and pushing of boundaries that requires a high level of initial trust, understanding, communication, and the ability to read each other in the moment. What results is a deepening of all of those qualities, especially the trust.
What the couple discovers is the difference between “hard limits” and “perceived limits” through clear communication and careful testing of their boundaries. What can result is increased intimacy and awareness, and a deep sense of connection and safety.