I Married a Baptist Nudist: Our Wedding (and Life) as Adam and Eve

 As oxymoronic as my title may seem, it is a thing. Our thing, as it were. 

The man who became my second husband was someone seemingly as antithetical to me as another could get. On the surface, he was a conservative Christian from a city in our state that was built by one of the more charismatic figures of the religious right. He had been, at one time, a Baptist pastor. Meanwhile, there I was...a queer, neurodivergent, recovering alcoholic UU Christeopagan, emphasis on the pagan. How did we even end up going on our first date? 

 But once we met, we just clicked. We had a kind of existential, intellectual chemistry that went deeper than labels that defined him, that defined me. We certainly didn't agree on everything, but somehow, that served to enhance the relationship that we cultivated. We were the proverbial yin and yang. I really dug it. There was just something about him, about us, that just fit. How? Well...

Several months after we had been dating, he disclosed to me something that he didn't share with many people, considering the attitudes and posturing of all those in his circle: he was a Christian Nudist. 

Ah-ha, so there it was. As there were parts of my innermost self that were traditional in ways that merged with his inherent traditionalism and thereby fused us together, so it was that there was a part of his innermost self that was just as nontraditional as I was wired. 

I had never considered nudism before, but I was thrilled to give it a try. And this was probably also the moment when I kind of just knew I wanted to marry him. Who else on earth was going to have this amazing balance of being traditional and nontraditional in the same yet wildly different way as me? 

It took us a while to finally make our way to a wonderful little nudist nook in our state. And when I say it took us awhile, I mean, the first day I experienced nudism was the day that we were married at the nudist resort by the Christian nudist pastor who had established a church there. 

We shed our clothing and walked hand in hand into the chapel, where the pastor, also in a state of nature, presided over our wedding. We exchanged the vows we had written ourselves, and we were pronounced man and wife, just like Adam and Eve. 

There's no place in the world to us like our nudist resort. As often as we can, we pack up and set out on that four hour drive to our little Eden. I'm shedding my clothing even before we're all the way through the gate. The place is full of old hippies and it's hard to meet a stranger. We hope one of these days to retire there. 

And the nudist pastor and his wife are among our dearest friends now. My husband is in line to take over pastoring of the church one day when we're able to devote more time there. 

It just goes to show, very few things in this world fit into neat little boxes. My sweet husband and I sure don't. And we're happy to be who and what we are.