I have a friend who has been saying she’s a virgin.
Even though she’s not.
Not by a long shot.
I’m kind of stunned by the realization that I’ve had lots of friends over the years who were really ashamed of sexual choices made along the way and so rather than owning up to it – they lied. Either by claiming virginity or by lowering their number.
I totally get that shame and familial/religious expectations come into play but owning your truth is incredibly empowering; after all, living a lie is exhausting. It’s a kind of self-inflicted silent torture.
I understand there are cultural considerations that come into play, and I find myself unable to make judgment calls for women in potentially dangerous situations. For instance, in some parts of the world the mother-in-law will go so far as to look at the sheets on the wedding night to make sure there was blood. (Which is actually a lousy indication of virginity as it turns out since not every woman bleeds.) The point remains, that if she doesn’t bleed then her marriage is likely to be annulled and her life could even be at stake.
Anyways, this whole situation got me thinking about the dichotomy modern women face – because for so long a premium was placed on virginity that I think that ideal still haunts many women. The desire to fit the fantasy then leads to fudging on the # of partners, or even claiming purity that doesn’t exist.
In high school and college I saw this play out time & time again – female friends of mine made a big fuss out of keeping their sex life under wraps so they wouldn’t be branded a bad girl. At the end of the day, my feeling is if you have to hide it than you probably shouldn’t be doing it, because shame + guilt are not supposed to be part of the package.
The first step to being accepted by others, is to accept yourself. When you find that peace you won’t settle for anything less than someone who will love you – the real you.
If you knew a friend was being dishonest, what would be your response? (Mine has been to tell her I think she should just be honest – but I won’t make that decision for her by telling him).
Many of you noticed and left sweet comments on Facebook or Twitter about my new photo. I’d been bugging Nick for weeks about snapping a photo I could use as an avatar for all my online profiles and we finally got around to making it happen.
Last summer we painted a section of our dingy, dark basement green and blue so we could have a ready-made backdrop for photos + videos, since we’re a media-saturated household… so after Jude fell asleep the other night we crept downstairs and had ourselves a mini photoshoot. And it was fun! 
Thumbing through the photos I kept thinking “wow, that girl looks pretty” or “that’s a beautiful photo”, but I struggle to say it in the first-person… to say, “I am pretty” – it’s not the photo that is beautiful, it’s me.
I’ve had this problem for years. I’ll look at an old photo and wish I looked like that and wonder how I didn’t feel attractive at the time. Why can’t I feel attractive in the moment?
Slowly but surely it’s starting to happen and it’s an amazing feeling.
I’m pretty sure it has everything to do with the brainwashing Nick has been working on since we met in 2005. He has always had this wonderful ability of being insanely in love with all of me (fat + skinny + pregnant + make-up-less + too much make-up + fashionable + homely looking + naked). And trust me, that last one ::naked:: still makes me shudder a bit.
The great news is that I am getting over it. Getting over myself. My irrational “can’t be beautiful unless [insert unattainable goal]” nonsense.
Jude has also helped change my perception. He’s teaching me to see beauty in everything, even silly things that I used to miss or take for granted. Washing machines. Cheerios. Monkey footsies. Chubby cheeks. Walking. Bathtime. Peekaboo.
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Outtakes are always the best part of a photoshoot. And FYI, yes, I really look like I’m about to eat your face off when I’m laughing… that’s how you know it’s a real full-belly laugh. :)
