I Tried a Naked Social Network. Here’s What Actually Happened.

I’m Kayla. I’m a real person, and yes, I joined a naked social network. I was curious. (If you’d like the blow-by-blow, here’s my detailed recap of trying a naked social network.) I like body-positive spaces. I also wanted to see if it felt safe. Spoiler: parts of it were great, and parts made me roll my eyes. Let me explain.

By the way, I’m talking about a naturist community. Adults only. No sexual content. Just people who like life without clothes. That’s the point. It matters.

Why I Signed Up

Two reasons. First, I got tired of weird comments on regular apps when I talked about body image. A while back I even gave a naked dating app a whirl, so my tolerance for awkward online energy is, shall we say, calibrated. Second, I wanted to meet folks who treat nudity like… skin. Not a show. Not a joke. Just normal.

Also, I live near the coast. There’s a small club that does beach cleanups. They post events on this network. It felt like a good way in.

Setup and Safety Stuff (Not Fun, But Huge)

Sign-up took me about 12 minutes. I had to:

  • Scan my ID and do a quick selfie check
  • Agree to rules about consent and no sexual content
  • Pick “consent tags” for my profile

Those tags helped. I set mine to “Comments first, no DMs” and “No reposts.” There’s also a toggle that blurs faces by default in my photos. I keep that on. I can unblur for friends later.

A nice touch: you can hide your city. It only shows your region, like “Southern California,” unless you choose to share more. I appreciated that.

One more thing that won me over. I tested the “Report” button. A mod replied in three hours with a human note, not a bot. The note was short: “We got it, Kayla. We’ll review.” They followed up the same day. That felt real. It was a relief, especially after a solid year I once spent embedded in NSFW social media spaces where moderators were basically tumbleweeds.

My First Week: Real Moments

Day 1: I lurked. I read a welcome thread for first-timers. People shared small fears. Like tan lines. Or scars. One person said, “My stomach rolls show. I’m learning to breathe.” I felt that in my bones.

Day 2: I posted a short intro. No photo. Just a note: “New here. Curious, shy, sunscreen nerd.” I got kind, clean replies. No flirting. No weird winks.

Day 3: I tried a photo post. I used the face blur. I shared a shot from my patio—sun on my shoulders, a book, my coffee mug. A woman named R. commented, “Did you try zinc SPF sticks? They don’t sting.” We traded tips like we were in a running group.

Day 4: Someone sent a pushy DM anyway. My tags said “no DMs,” but still. I reported it. The message got removed, and the person got a warning. I got a gentle note: “You okay?” Honestly, that check-in mattered more than the ban.

Day 6: I joined a group called “Sunrise Hikes — SoCal.” Rules were clear: no photos on trails, bring a towel, carry a cover-up. They plan short walks to a private spot, then coffee. I haven’t gone yet. But the thread about bug spray was oddly sweet.

Day 7: I went to a video Q&A about skin health. A local nurse talked about moles, heat rash, and hydration. It was not boring. She showed a hat that looked like a floppy taco. I bought one the next day. No shame.

Features That Actually Helped Me

  • Consent tags: Saved me time. Set boundaries once. They show under your name in every view.
  • Face blur and background blur: One tap. I use both. I can share body-positive moments without sharing my front door.
  • Event calendar: Clear rules, RSVP limits, and a real host for each event. Hosts must verify their ID too.
  • Muted words: I blocked certain words that bug me. The feed feels calmer.
  • Age checks: Everyone is 18+. The app takes that seriously. No exceptions. That’s how it should be.

Things That Bugged Me

  • Search felt clunky. I typed “yoga,” and I got beach yoga, snow tips, and a post about yogurt. Close, but not it.
  • A few folks treat every thread like a selfie contest. I get it, but it drowns out deeper talks. I want posts on nerves, sunscreen, comfort, safety, and community. Not just “look at me.”
  • The mobile app crashed during uploads twice. It saved my draft, which helped, but still annoying.
  • The content rules are strict (good), but sometimes a mod hides posts with scars or surgery marks, even when the tone is educational. That felt off. Bodies are real. Let them be.

A Story That Stuck With Me

I shared a post about a tiny scar on my hip. I wrote, “I used to cover this. Now I’m okay with it.” Someone in her 50s wrote, “Same. Took me years.” Another person asked which bandages don’t rip skin. A dad said, “I’m teaching my daughter about sunscreen. She’s not on here, but I needed to hear this.” The thread stayed kind. Not one creepy comment. It felt like a small win.

Costs, If You’re Curious

The core app was free for me. There’s a paid tier that adds:

  • Priority blur tools and bulk edits
  • Better search
  • Bigger storage for albums
  • Early access to some events

If you’re curious how creators handle paywalls in a more adult-leaning ecosystem, I broke that down with 21 adult Snapchat creators.

I paid for a month to test it. Seven dollars felt fair. I canceled after two months because the free tier did enough for me.

How It Felt Over Time

Week by week, I got less tense. I learned to sit with my body without judging it. Funny thing: you forget the “naked” part after a while. You start seeing people as people. Tall, short, scarred, smooth, pale, dark, whatever. It becomes normal. Like how you stop hearing a fan after ten minutes. It’s a sharp contrast to the vibe I got after a full year on more anything-goes adult social media, where the spotlight never, ever shut off.

That said, I keep my guard up. I turn off DMs from new accounts. I learned that lesson the hard way during my stint with NSFW Snapchats, where inbox chaos was basically a sport.

Who It’s For (And Who Should Skip It)

  • It’s for adults who want a clean, consent-based space for naturism.
  • It’s for folks with body image stuff who want to practice being okay in their skin.
  • It’s for planners who like clearly run group events.

Skip it if you want a spicy scene. That’s not this. Also skip it if you hate rules. The rules run the place, and I’m grateful for that. If that’s your jam, my no-holds-barred dirty social networks roundup might point you somewhere else. If you’re leaning toward a fast-paced, Snapchat-style hookup option instead, check out my deep dive into the platform at SnapSex Review—you’ll see exactly how the streak-based chat, credit system, and safety tools compare before you decide to sign up.

Little Tips I Wish Someone Told Me

  • Set your consent tags before you post a single thing.
  • Blur faces by default. Unblur later if you trust someone.
  • Don’t post from your house number or your street. Crop the shot.
  • Bring a towel to any event. Always. It’s a thing. You sit on it.
  • Wear sunscreen. Reapply. Shoulders cook fast, trust me.

My Quick Pros and Cons

Pros:

  • Real adults, real rules
  • Smart privacy tools
  • Kind, body-positive culture
  • Events with clear hosts and limits

Cons:

  • Search and filters need love
  • Occasional upload bugs
  • Mods sometimes hide helpful posts by mistake
  • A few people push DMs even when you say no

Final Take

Was it worth it? For me, yes. I found a small corner