Last Friday I received a comment from a writer I very much respect and admire. She said that I was brave (for posting my breasts for Boobday). Had I stopped at that moment of reading the comment and looked up the actual definition of brave I probably would have been happy, maybe even proud of the distinction. But instead I let the thoughts compound, and the fears and worries fester, and of course I went over my past actions with a fine-toothed comb and eyes of disdain. I became unhappy (and confused) with what this blog is, and what I portray as my character in this space.
I knew it was meant as a compliment, but I started wondering if showing courage by displaying my tits, means that these tits shouldn’t be shown (by some standard set forth in our society)? It made me wonder if I’m shameless or whether I am not respecting myself. It made me worry that people were thinking about me in a negative way. Yes, it would defy the purpose of Boobday to be ashamed that my tits deflated or sag, and to be embarrassed that my nipples are so damn big. I’m willing to put myself out there to show other women that all types can be appreciated*. And I enjoy the compliments, and the thrill of seeing myself on the screen.
I have kept some limits, I avoid photos that show my belly which really needs to be toned. I avoid showing my face for anonymity purposes. I avoid showing my pussy to keep it sacred (although I have to say it is still the prettiest pussy I’ve laid eyes on, I love my pussy). My body is not perfect and it never will be. I would not ever ask for the burden of a perfect body. Brave would to be show something I’m not proud of.
I have been a little rude, or crass, and I’ve tried to shock people with my over-sharing and sometimes slutty attitude. This might be more evident in the comments. I’ve not acted like a reserved proper lady by any means, but then again who said I should act that way, ever? Though I’m a fun person in real day-to-day life, I don’t flash my tits and walk around talking about loving to give blowjobs (shut up, hubby, I’m not counting drunken conversations between bars). I try to stay a bit classy, as much as a casual California Girl is supposed to.
I’m G to a degree. I think this blog gives me a healthy place to express certain feelings and desires without fear of my real life reputation as a mommy and whatever else I might be getting tarnished. I know a lot of people have these secret sides to them, and I sometimes wish we could all just talk openly about our fantasies and what works for us in the bedroom…I’m picturing the best play date where the kids play happily while the moms share tips and tricks and orgasm stories.
I do need to embrace the fact that I’m not cut from the normal mommy cookie cutter. I do like a little spice in my day (in addition to my night) and my kids are probably happier because I’m happier when I’m getting those needs expressed. So I need to be proud of my “bravery” in showing my non-playboy-type body here, and for sharing my experiences that some will never have the courage to try. I will stop worrying about my image or the character I portray, while at the same time I realize I need take the blatant sort of creepy things I might say (that might make other people cringe) down a notch or two. I really don’t want to make someone uncomfortable, no matter how casual I am about sex.
But for the record:
It’s okay, please jerk off to my pics, and you can even tell me you did, I like it. I can’t be there with you in real life but you can look at my blog and pretend I am. When you read about my real experiences with fucking two men and it makes you horny, please take care of your orgasm needs! When I actually post my fantasies, if I write well enough that you can picture yourself being in the story then my job is done, now you go ahead and take care of that aching clit, or that springing erection (even if your secretary might walk in on you) or maybe even just fan away that warm feeling until you can be alone with your thoughts of me. I’m not going to engage in any on-going chats about it, but feel free to let me know if something I say or do works for you.
I am very happy to help, really. Love,
*Sure, in real life when I’m posing for a photo next to a playboy model (as I have on several occasions), I feel a tiny bit of shame that I don’t really know what my “good side” is that day, I almost feel ashamed that I don’t care if my hair is perfect, or if my makeup needs to be retouched, and that compared to her I’m fat… I can’t control those photos, I can’t have them take ten and let me choose one. All I can do is smile and know that I’m not going to worry about how the photo comes out as much as her. That freedom actually feels really good. It allows me to focus on my actions, on other people’s needs and to be attentive to the conversation, rather than to my fly-a-ways and fading lipstick.