Today I got my third video call over Instagram from some strange man from somewhere. I did not answer. Feeling disappointed in the evolution of men, I blocked him from my account.
Lingerie modeling isn’t porn, but what young kid didn’t steal Victoria’s Secret mag and stuff it under their mattress for later? When you expose yourself (in a photo) anything can be interpreted or misinterpreted.
I struggled with why I felt so strongly about posing nude o rin lingerie. There were days I would be in tears, torn between something that felt so right, and something that would embarrass my mother.
Throughout my life, I learned how to love my body, and explore my body, and feel empowered by my body’s physical capabilities. I went through trauma that made me feel detached from my body and hate my body. This self-hatred and lack of compassion I held for myself was disappointing. Even in those dark days, I knew I wanted to love myself better. To look in the mirror, or put on clothes and move in the world feeling positive about my bodymindsoul.
Through that journey, it occurred to me that my story was not just mine. This story belongs to women. The truth that we are all made unique and wonderful is not a story that is told to us. I share these sides of being a woman; one who was bold, adventurous, strong, sexy, and confident.
We are raised with expectations of impossible standards. Be innocent, stay quiet, have an opinion, don’t ripple the waters of society, and certainly don’t allow yourself to feel like you should have a place. If we wanted to do anything we have to execute it perfectly, otherwise we “fail”. Like no man has ever failed before…
I was tired of women in magazines and intimate wear being pawed at. As if we exist for men. That our undergarments are made for men. That our wombs and bodies exist solely for the use of men.
I use this voice and character on Instagram, writing things like “I never felt I could be this comfortable with my hormones”, doing my damndest to not have my body or my worlds be misinterpreted.
And then the Instagram call comes in….
There I am, minding my own business, pruning the flowers in my garden, and this total stranger calls. When I get calls or pings like these it makes me want to become a terrifying activist and shout hateful things to these men.
Listen. If you’re a dude reading this and you want free crotch shots either become a man, ask a woman out and make love to her. Or, like many people, watch some porn man. Or stick to a platform where your mindset and energy are acceptable.
I do my best to ignore these kinds of “followers”, and keep my story focused and positive for women, though it is a hard mental game each day.
I wish that a woman’s body could be more protected from exploitation. When she wants to just be expressive and not treated as property. I often wonder how some of these models do it. Day in and day out people staring at you as if all you have to offer are your tits.
Remember there is a heart and a brain attached to those tits. And that body and brain may punch you back if you are rude, believe that it belongs to you, or if you’re a total creep.
Men, women, and all other lovelies let us embrace the beauty and the expression of the human body. Let us evolve and grow up and embrace the powerful sexual goddess within each woman.