Remember that time I asked a total stranger to make me a purple grape vodka drink, then I took all my clothes off?
No? Oh, cause that just happened.
So, I had this brilliant idea to take nude pictures for My Love's birthday- I was like, "Hey, I'm gonna be all, bad-ass-naked-brave-modern-woman-who's-confident-with-her-body and I'm gonna get bare to bone, in the most Non-Hustler way possible" for my man, and he's going to think I'm a goddess, he'll renounce porn forever and I'll basically win at life. Thee end.
That was my mindset and since I'm all competitive and annoying like that, I wanted to be on the top of "Best Present Giver" list, since he generally murders me with gift giving- cause he's thoughtful, sweet and irritatingly clever and I just buy him t-shirts, or take him to restaurants I've been wanting to try. What's more thoughtful than pictures of my tits in all their perky glory for all eternity, that will withstand the time of breastfeeding, sagging, drooping and such.... thoughtful? I think so, so get naked.
I show up to the photo shoot- proud and ready to give The Girls Next Door a run for their money, I was strutting my best, "I am woman hear me roar, I'm proud of what Momma gave me! Woot!"- the photographer was incredibly welcoming and sweet, we chit chatted a bit about life and Starbucks, you know, important stuff and she says, "Alright, just throw on your lingerie and we'll get started...."
....suddenly, my fucking top lip started sweating like Whitney Houston in a Barbara Walters interview. Then, the palms started sweating, then the backs of the knees, then my hands were shaking, I was walking like a baby giraffe in heels and then I was just a big soppy, sweaty, vulnerable and almost-naked mess. I knew there was only one cure, COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF VODKA, and a little background music. It was becoming out of body, as in, "I am here. And now I am naked? Now, I am not here, I am checking out and thinking of what to cook for dinner....or if I have belly button lint?" No lint, phew.
Check and check.
We start to shoot the photos and I'm thinking, "alright, I got this...." until we start posing- I'm arching, and pushing, lifting and bending. Sucking, cinching and vogueing. Being sexy is fucking hard work, and this isn't my first time in the Sexy Rodeo, it's just my first time in the NAKED-Sexy rodeo, with strangers and blackmail material. There's things sticking out that you don't want sticking, rolls you don't want rolling, bends that aren't so bendy (this isn't Cirque Du Soleil people, fuck) blemishes you don't seen, not-so-sexy-wanna-be-sexy-faces.
If sex were as hard as posing like sex, I would suck at it.
After nearly an hour, I finally felt comfortable to strip down- it was liberating, exciting and completely nerve-wracking. Questions like, "I wonder if my nipples are shaped weird?" Come into your mind, or "I wonder if I have cellulite that I've never seen because my mirror doesn't reach back there...." And, sip the vodka Chelsea, drink up.
Thirty minutes in, all is going groovy- I'm prancing about in my skiivies, with my grape vodka drink, and sure enough, I'm feeling pretty sexy.
By the end of the day, I had; faced a fear, checked off an item on the Life List, upped my rank in girlfriend status, and accepted the rolls, the awkwardness, the discomfort and the body, that is MINE. The one that's soft and strong, exposed, thin-skinned and rough all at once. The body that My Love holds, cradles and adores- the one that he loves. This body in all of the imperfections and parts I PINCH AND PROD, is perfectly beautiful the way it is. IT'S UNIQUE, because it's mine....and I can't compare or covet anyone else' "perfections," we all have our own UNIQUE, "perfect."
To My Love;
26 beautiful years ago, you were born. Somewhat selfishly, I think you were born for me, because you round out the "perfect" of my life. You are my partner, my soulmate, my best friend. You'll eat cheese with me at 3am and scratch my legs when they're itchy (weird animal trait? I know.) You're the one I want to become "we" and "us" for.
You are my heart. Happy birthday my sweet. (This is the last time I'm taking naked pictures for you, next year you're getting a fuckin' gift card to iTunes.)