There are a lot of things I regret doing and I'm sure there are only bundles of more embarrassing, character devaluing delights in my future, but one thing I'm not ashamed of is taking pictures of myself in my underwear and publishing them on the Internet. Deep down, I can hear a culturally attuned voice inside going, What are you doing, you crazy slut!?. And I'm sure most of you are thinking "Good God!" and wondering who raised me to be such a heathen. I'm sure the person who raised me is thinking the exact same thing and calculating how fast she can take me out of the will. Sorry, Mom.
I refuse to believe that posting these pictures is immodest. I'm not publishing them for money; if I was inclined or interested, I could find much more lucrative ways of taking my clothes off. Nor am I putting them up for attention, as there are many, many better online venues for such sharing. Most importantly, I'm not using these photographs to encourage sexual attraction in others. My sexual identity is private, psychological as much as physical, and monogamously connected to one gentleman who bears an uncanny resemblance to Sam the Eagle from the Muppets.
When all is said and done, I cannot control what you think of these photographs or how you access their intention which is at the heart of any conversation about modesty. The idea founded itself upon the notion that women can exert control over the sexual attraction other people experience. It's a ludicrous belief that I may decide whether someone else finds me sexually appealing or repulsive. I cannot deny that those awesome powers don't sound interesting, I'd like to go back to high school and "sway" some young men in my direction. But alas, I cannot determine what individuals far and wide get up to in their beds, dorm rooms, and retirement communities.
I've admitted my own powerlessness in how you receive these images and I've announced that my motives do not include getting rich, receiving excessive amounts of attention or turning my online persona into a goddess of steamy love. I am trying to make these photographs educational; I want every woman to feel empowered that she knows how a bra should fit, feel, and what 'look' she might be trying to achieve. I want to publish images of a woman's body that aren't photoshopped to hell and back and only show a creepy shadow puppet of what women really look like. I intend to downplay the ridiculously overemphasized connection between breasts and sexuality. They aren't just toy bags for your next Romeo or Juliet.
Most importantly, I want to be brave and follow in the footsteps of women I admire immensely, like Cheryl Warner, Georgina Horne, and every plus sized blogger who has ever taken a bikini shot. They show the world that bodies are different and those differences aren't bad or meant to be hidden away like dirty secrets. I was young and full busted once. I felt alone, insecure, and horribly self-aware. If I can help just one reader feel more confident in her skin and proud of her shape, I will have done what I've dreamed of since starting this blog.
***This post is part of a week long blogging series, undertaken by many full busted writers, discussing modesty. I'm tremendously proud to be involved in the project and if you'd like to read more, this is a list of participating blogs:
Braless in Brasil
Bras and Body Image
By Babys Rules
Hourglassy (Abreast Abroad)
Hourglassy (Corporate Curves Report)
That Bra Does Not Fit Her
The Tit Rambler
Thin and Curvy
Red Hair and Girly Flair
Weirdly Shaped & Well Photographed