I Tried Naked Yoga And It Was As Awkward As It Sounds

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I’ve done a lot of strange things in the name of journalism, including just about every fitness trend under the sun. Couples CrossFit? Check. Hot barre? Yep. Even forgoing shampoo for an entire gross month seemed like child’s play compared to this experiment. So when I signed up for a class at New York City’s Bold & Naked yoga, the regret set in, and I cursed myself the entire way to the studio, and contemplated just how much my mother would miss me if I jumped in front of a moving taxi.

Naked yoga is exactly what it sounds like: a totally in-the-buff yoga class that’s aimed at “being comfortable in your own skin and the amazing confidence that comes with it.”

I distinctly remember the moment when I became aware of my own curves. It was the summer after my sixth grade year and I’d purchased my first bikini with hard-earned babysitting money. I was at a water park, sporting my precious new purchase—gingham with roses. I was primed to take off on the tallest waterslide when a spindly young boy with a rat’s tail (hello, eighties) tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Hey! Girl! You have big boobs!” Huh, me? Boobs? I have boobs? I have big boobs? I didn’t know whether to be insulted or flattered, but it was the first time I’d been apprised of my physique and it was an eye-opening moment for a young girl.

Today, I have a meh-hate relationship with my own body. I look perfectly acceptable in clothing, but resemble a squishy sack of mayonnaise in the nude. I prefer one-piece bathing suits and am not the kind of gal who prances around topless in the gym locker room.

Art Markman, Ph.D., professor of psychology and marketing at the University of Texas at Austin and co-host of the radio show and podcast Two Guys on Your Head, tells SELF that American culture has a number of elements to it that make people uncomfortable with their bodies. “On the one hand, we tend to be squeamish as a culture with nudity and sexuality. We slap R ratings on movies for mild nudity and sexuality, but allow quite a bit of violence before a movie gets an R rating. In addition, there’s been a lot of work on ways that media promote a thin body ideal that can be internalized by some individuals in a way that contributes to eating disorders.”

According to the studio, “practicing yoga naked frees you from negative feelings about your body and allows [you] to be more accepting and deeper connected with yourself and the world around you.” Bring it, I thought. I want to be free.

Before class began, I stripped down to the buff with the speed of a ninja and the grace of a Basset hound.

The dimly lit room was outfitted with a cubby where every single item of one’s clothing is to be stored. The female instructor, who had large and very perky breasts, started by telling us to be present. Luckily, I’ve never been more present in my life. I’ve never thought more about waxing or the unwavering desire for a pair of panties.

Class began. We bended. We flowed. We Baby Cobra-d and Down Dog-d. We did Cat/Cow and Crow pose. I glanced down and missed my push-up bra. I’d take that old gingham rose bikini top in a pinch. 

The studio wasn’t void of mirrors, rather it had the floor-to-ceiling variety that allowed me to stare at myself. ALL of myself. I was also able to see other women in the class, and I snuck a few glances. Everyone looked graceful to me, but, OMG, we were all very naked. My class was females only, but there is a co-ed option, if you’re interested.

Markman says that engaging with your body in a public and non-sexual way can be helpful for some people to make them more comfortable with their own bodies. “Seeing other bodies helps you to recognize your own imperfections and to become comfortable with them.” It’s true; I’m critical only of myself.

I continued to suck in my tummy and flex my back. If Pigeon pose was a bad dream then Happy Baby was a nightmare. Finally, the practice came to an end and like any Vinyasa class, I was relieved to melt into Savasana…and even more so to close my eyes.

Am I more free and confident after taking the class, as promised? Not exactly, but I’m proud of myself for getting very far out of my comfort zone.

Like cutting bangs, I get a rush from doing something totally out of my own ordinary. Even if I won’t be caught dead (or naked, rather) doing it again.

Also, I feel grateful for the experience. Yes, I have cellulite and my body is more accurately described as sneaky fat, but I’m healthy. Luckily I practiced among strangers, which is how it should be when you take naked yoga. And the room was dimly lit, thank you baby Jesus. Now, pass me my pants.

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