Sauna Culture in Sweden and Embracing Nudity

Before coming to Sweden, I had never actually been to a sauna, like ever! I mean… if you really think about it, just walking outside in Sri Lanka with it tropical high-humid climate already felt like a sauna by itself, but that’s a different experience altogether. What I’ve never experienced was intentional heat. A space designed for slowing down, sitting still, and just existing with your body. 

What I didn’t expect even more was that something as simple and as unfamiliar as a sauna would become such an important part of my life in Sweden, almost two years in now. Or that it would teach me so much about culture, comfort, and how we relate to our own bodies.

Saunas everywhere: a very Swedish normality

One of the first things I noticed after moving to Sweden was just how common saunas are. If there’s a public shower, there’s often a sauna right next to it. Gyms, swimming halls, student housing. I’ve even randomly come across saunas tucked away in basement floors in some university buildings. That was crazy!

In fact, a Swedish friend of mine told me that when they were in public school, each school building had its own sauna. That still feels surreal to me.

Saunas are deeply connected to Swedish and Nordic culture. Traditionally, many older houses had private saunas, while newer apartments sometimes don’t. Some people say sauna culture is slowly fading or becoming less popular, especially in urban settings. But even so, it remains woven into everyday life in a way that feels effortless.

It’s not treated as a luxury or a wellness trend. It’s just… normal.

Health, balance, and the social side of sweating together

One of the main reasons I kept returning to the sauna was the health aspect. Saunas are often associated with relaxation, muscle recovery, improved circulation, and stress reduction. After workouts, sitting in the heat felt like a natural extension of taking care of my body. A moment to pause, breathe, and mentally unwind.

But there’s also a social dimension that I didn’t expect.

I’ve had some genuinely fun and unexpected conversations in gym saunas with other students, people I’ve never met before, and Swedes who were happy to talk about everyday life, culture, and perspectives. I’ve shared stories about where I come from, learned small details about Swedish culture, and even ended up in surprisingly deep, intellectual conversations

And even when people don’t talk much, there’s something quietly communal about sitting together in a sauna. No phones. No headphones. No distractions. Just people sharing heat. In Sweden, silence in these spaces isn’t awkward. It’s comfortable.

My first sauna experiences (the bathing suit phase)

The first time I went to a sauna in Sweden, I went with a friend from Sri Lanka. Neither of us really knew the etiquette, so we did what felt safest: towels on, bathing suits on, no risks taken.

It was warm, calming, and honestly very enjoyable. That first experience made me want to keep going. And at the beginning, I usually found myself alone in the sauna. But eventually, there were moments when others joined, and that’s when I noticed something. I was the only one wearing a bathing suit!

Nudity, discomfort, and unlearning habits

Actually, after my first ever sauna session, I looked up sauna culture in Sweden. What I learned explained a lot: wearing clothes in the sauna is uncommon. Most people go in completely naked, sitting on a towel. It’s practical, hygienic, and culturally normal.

So I tried to adapt. The next few times, I stopped wearing a bathing suit and brought only a towel. Still, I wasn’t fully comfortable. I would sit there half-covered, hiding just enough to feel safe.

Then one day, two other students joined me, both Swedish, both completely nude, sitting casually on their towels. And suddenly, I felt awkward. Not because of them, but because I was the only one still holding back

In Sweden, nudity is approached very differently from what I grew up with. From a young age, people are exposed to conversations about bodies, sexual health, and public nudity in a very straightforward way. A naked body isn’t automatically something to be hidden or judged. It’s just a body. Coming from Sri Lanka, this was unfamiliar. Even in changing rooms back home, people usually cover themselves. Full nudity around others is rare and often uncomfortable.

So I challenged myself to sit with that discomfort.

Bodies without filters: letting go of unrealistic expectations

What surprised me most over time wasn’t just that I became comfortable with nudity. It was why.

In changing rooms and saunas, you come across real bodies. Not the kind you see on TV, in movies, or on social media. Not filtered, posed, or curated. You see different ages, shapes, scars, insecurities and confidence. And the more you see that, the harder it becomes to believe that there’s only one “acceptable” way for a body to look.

There’s something incredibly healthy about that exposure. It slowly chips away at unrealistic expectations and body shame. You stop comparing. You stop analysing. You just exist. For me, that shift felt quietly liberating.

At the same time, it’s important to say that this experience isn’t something you’re required to embrace. Comfort is personal, and everyone comes with their own boundaries, histories, and feelings about their body. If nudity doesn’t feel right for you, that’s completely okay. There’s no expectation to follow it, and choosing to cover yourself or step back is always a valid option.

A Resolution with Friends

Actually, once, during a meetup with Study in Sweden digital ambassadors, I ended up in a sauna with two other ambassadors from different cultural backgrounds. As we sat there, relaxing and talking, we realized something funny. None of our cultures back home had this level of comfort with nudity.

We talked about how, in Sweden, it isn’t weird — but it’s still something you notice when you first arrive. How open people are in gyms, changing rooms, and saunas. How exposed it can feel at first.

By the end of that conversation, we made a small pact. That in the coming months, all three of us decided to fully embrace it. To let go of the stigma. To stop hiding in changing rooms and saunas. To treat nudity the way it’s treated here: neutrally, respectfully, and without judgment.

It sounds simple, but it felt meaningful. And honestly, it was a fun and oddly empowering decision to make together.

Sauna as part of my everyday life in Sweden

Today, the sauna is simply part of my routine. I go to the gym regularly, and about half the time, I end up in the sauna afterward. It’s become so integrated into my life that I plan my showers around it, especially since I have long hair. Sauna days are definitely shower days.

Looking back, sauna culture in Sweden gave me much more than relaxation or health benefits. It taught me how cultural norms shape our relationship with our bodies. How much of what we feel is “normal” is actually learned. And how freeing it can be to question that.

If you’ve had your own sauna experiences in Sweden, or if sauna culture challenged you in unexpected ways, I’d love to hear about I! And you can also read about another digital ambassador’s experience with Swedish saunas here.