Three years ago, when I decided to blog about my whole sex life, I had a pretty clear idea of what I wanted to do. I wanted to express, through my words and images, an openness and realness about sex – to talk about my experience just as I would any other area of my life. I decided to use my legal name because I didn’t want to hide behind a constructed persona. I chose to show images that reveal both my face and my body, an unusual choice in sex blogging. In short, I set out to bare it all.
I have yet to regret my exposure. We’ve probably been fairly protected by obscurity, but I have my fan base. I’ve had my share of guys who want me to explore some kind of sexual connection with them, yet they’ve been respectful. I am not a fantasy. Everything I am, is out there for people to see. My blog posts cover my joys, rage, embarrassments, silliness, sadness, fantasies, and ecstasy. I take the whole part of WholeSexLife seriously.
Not only am I baring my soul, but also exposing my body. I often get asked how I can post naked pictures of myself on the internet. It does take a kind of courage, not because I care what anyone else thinks, but because I have to love myself. The real vulnerability is not in taking off my clothes for the camera. Generally I am in the moment, making love to myself, my partner, or the photographer. Later, when I go to edit images, I might have a crisis of faith. Do I look too fat or too old? Is the image good enough? Am I good enough? It takes courage to ignore the voices in my head and publish the pics anyway. Vulnerable is way more interesting to me than perfect, anyway.
Of course nudity can be challenging, especially if you’re not used to it. I think most people worry that their body, fully exposed, is not as good as a swimsuit model’s or a porn star’s, but maybe deeper than that is the not unreasonable fear that being naked means you are “asking for it.” Even a thin film of fabric over the nipples or genitals seems to protect one from being seen as dirty or slutty. I decided early on that I own my body, naughty bits and all, and I get to choose how much to share. This has meant full nudity because I refuse to be ruled by fear. There is an openness and freedom about being in my skin.
By dropping artificial boundaries about what body parts are acceptable to show, I am able to more fully explore my own sexual reality. I can express myself artistically as a whole being. As a result, I accept myself (and all of my parts) as a whole being. I am able to bring this fluidity to all aspects of my sex life, knowing all the way to my core that all of me is sacred. Baring my body lets me bare my soul.
Are you thinking of baring it all? I urge you to give it a try. All bodies are unique and beautiful.