One moment, I was a solo traveler exploring Mexico’s rugged coast, the next I found the freedom to express myself in a nudist beach town.
I never expected to end up living in a nudist town. It wasn’t on my itinerary, given that I had a return plane ticket back to Canada, not knowing at the time that I would never use it. An unexpected adventure while visiting a close friend in Mexico City one summer led me to Zipolite—a small beach town on Mexico’s Pacific coast where clothes and convention seemed to melt away under the sun.
Zipolite’s free-spirited, hippie vibe dates back to the 1960s when travelers began arriving in search of peace and simplicity. Unlike most of Mexico’s coasts, which became more touristy, the town kept a relaxed, “live-and-let-live” vibe. Early on, Zipolite had no paved roads, and its remoteness allowed visitors to experiment freely with nudism. Of the few nudist beaches in the country, it’s the only one that is legally recognized. Locals mostly stay clothed, yet they’ve always welcomed those who don’t.
The Start of My Adventure
When I arrived in Zipolite after a bumpy solo journey on the back of an old army truck that I shared with livestock and locals, the first thing I noticed wasn’t the nudity—it was the light. Golden and heavy, it lingered over everything: the sand, the hammocks, the faded signs. Nobody seemed to be in a hurry. I would later learn that “tranquilo” (meaning “to relax”) was the motto here.
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The truth is, I had never been uncomfortable with nudity. Throughout my youth, my mother used to take us skinny dipping in Ontario lakes. One of her friends even owned a nudist resort. To me, bare skin was just part of being human. Maybe that’s why, standing there in Zipolite, I didn’t feel out of place. Instead, I felt a quiet familiarity, as if I’d stumbled into a memory that had been waiting for me all along. I realized Zipolite wasn’t a place you simply visit. It was a place that invites you to join in, to loosen your grip on everything you thought you were supposed to conform to.
View of the far west end of Zipolite Beach, Oaxaca, Mexico.Alejandro Linares Garcia [CC BY-SA 4.0] Wikimedia Commons
Owning the Nudist Lifestyle: Zipolite Then and Now
Before boutique hotels, Zipolite was known for its bohemian spirit and a rare kind of freedom—a place where visitors shed not just clothing but the weight of expectations. For Ben, the owner of Casa Nudista, that same sense of openness was what drew him there.
“I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of creating a guest house where people could truly feel free and authentic,” says Ben. After travelling extensively, he discovered many inspiring hospitality concepts that made him realize he wanted to create something unique. When he came to Mexico and discovered Zipolite, he noticed there wasn’t a resort in town that fully embraced nudism. During the pandemic, the opportunity appeared—and that’s how Casa Nudista was born.
“Zipolite itself has changed since those early days. When I first arrived, it was more of a hidden gem known mainly by backpackers,” he says. “Now it’s much more popular, especially among the gay community and people looking for a free-spirited experience. There are more boutique hotels, restaurants, and events. But it has still kept its soul—that open, tolerant, bohemian spirit.”
That spirit is inseparable from nudism here. For Ben, the practice is far from provocative. It’s grounding. “When you remove your clothes, you also remove many layers of fear, judgment, and social expectations. It creates a sense of equality and honesty. You connect on a human level, without pretense.”
The biggest misunderstanding Ben sees? That nudism is sexual. “It’s not about that,” he says. “It’s about comfort, respect, and being at ease in your own skin. Once people experience it, they realize how normal and natural it feels.”
“Being surrounded by so many different types of bodies every day, all beautiful in their own way, helps you understand that perfection doesn’t exist,” he says. “You start appreciating diversity, and you stop judging yourself and others. It’s a powerful reminder that confidence and kindness are what truly make someone attractive.”
Casa Nudista
Naked and Free
Like Ben, it didn’t take long for me to fall for Zipolite. I ended up finding a place to stay–an open concept property with a few simple villas scattered around a dusty terrain. Chickens roamed freely through the collective space, and roosters crowed to the rising sun. Other people lived there too, all with a story of their own to tell of how they came to be in Zipolite. Days were spent swaying in the hammocks, sharing meals, and watching the sunset. I felt free and unencumbered in my nudity. There was a quiet understanding that judgment wasn’t part of the scene. Everyone coexisted there, and I began to move through my days in a rhythm dictated by the sun, tide, and simple human connection.
I remember the first time I abandoned my clothes on the sand and strolled into the open waves. The sun was warm against my shoulders, and for a moment, I hesitated—not from shame, but from the simple awareness of being completely uncovered. The feeling of fabricless skin against saltwater was like returning to something I didn’t realize I’d lost. Around me, others swam, laughed, floated—unguarded. No one was watching or judging. It struck me how freedom wasn’t about permission; it was about acceptance.
Clothes aren’t always a representation of who you are. In Zipolite, I discovered that sometimes, you meet yourself when you learn to literally embrace your own fears, and the expectations that are so often put upon us. The self-consciousness, the feeling of being seen or judged as flawed or imperfect, faded and was replaced by a quiet confidence. I learned to trust my instincts and to see the world with more clarity and acceptance than ever before. Zipolite didn’t change my perspective; it reminded me that letting go and trusting my own intuition can open the doors to who I truly am.
