I am loving this video right now. And it keeps reminding me of this post about watching someone put on a condom.
What makes a kiss such an intimate thing is that when it’s over you know something about them you didn’t before. You know how they taste, what their lips feel like, what makes them hungry, what makes them want to kiss you and what doesn’t.
This video just makes it a little clearer because you know there wasn’t a date part that helped along the knowing. We know everything they know about each other except for the little bit they found on each others lips.
And everything is different from the knowing.
These photographs are giving me life today.
I have been having a very hard time being ok with my body tonight.
I have been wanting to have no body at all.
I have been wishing to be small and hidden.
I have been feeling the need to disappear.
I got into bed and was going to take pictures of my body to be negative towards it…
but then I clicked this image and looked at it.
I saw sand dunes.
I saw nature.
I saw myself.
I am the Earth.
I am the Earth.
I am the Earth. [x]
Radical, meta Self-love via selfie.
Your body is a pile of these things. And maybe they’re all on purpose and maybe they’re not but they’re all definitely features and not bugs. And they’re here to stay.
It’s hard to be sad about your body when you think of it as a landscape. You don’t criticize a mountain for being too big, or a valley for being too winding, and no one ever complains about the vastness of the sea. You are part of the earth and you are so beautiful friends.
This popped up in my feed. And I’m assuming it’s true. It just sounds like our culture.
I think Julia Roberts had it right in one of my favorite movies of all time, Notting Hill. (Red is Julia Roberts, blue is Hugh Grant, just in case you’ve been living under a rock your entire life and haven’t seen this movie a dozen time)
What is it about men and nudity? Particularly breasts. And how can you be so interested in them?
No, but seriously. They’re just breasts. Every second person in the world has them.
Well, more than that, actually, when you think about it. You know, Meatloaf has a very nice pair.
But they’re odd looking. They’re for milk. Your mother has them. You’ve seen a thousand of them. What’s all the fuss about?
Breasts are functional. They’re also for pleasure, of course, I’m not discounting that. But living in a patriarchal society means that my body is banned because maybe it interferes with the experience of a horny jerk.
“Female toplessness is legal in a lot of places in the US (although not where I live), and I’d be meeting the letter of the law with a couple of Band-aids. But I have a gut feeling that if I go anywhere that there are people—and particularly anywhere there are children—nobody’s going to be too happy about my Band-aids. The enforcement is social; women just don’t go around topless in the US.
It bothers me because it’s unequal, but it also bothers me in its implications: that my body is inherently sexual, and a man’s body isn’t. It feels like men are being viewed through the first-person lens of “it’s nice to feel the sun on my skin, and I don’t mean anything by it” and women are being viewed through the distinctly third-person lens of “it’s inappropriate for me, a heterosexual man, to see her sexy parts.” It ignores the experiences of people who are turned on by male chests and somehow manage to contain themselves when they see one.”
And gosh, golly, gee whiz, all my readers know I’ve never been turned on by a manly chest.
And this is what I was thinking about reading the latest tid bit about HBO Girls.
There’s a scene in season 3 where Dunham’s character rolls out of bed and starts getting dressed, so we see her naked. No surprise there. And there was something about the scene that made me really happy. It felt so real. When I sleep with a guy and then get dressed, he sees me get dressed. When I hang out with my mom she gets dressed in front of me. And the fact that she isn’t Kate Moss doesn’t stop her. It doesn’t stop me either. We women who don’t look like Kate Moss, we get dressed; we get naked and then dressed. Often twice a day.
Lena Dunham’s nudity is a spit in the face of every bit of the patriarchy that says female bodies are exclusively for the purpose of erection fluffing. Because, you know, they aren’t.
They’re for going to work and feeding your kids and 1,000 other things that aren’t “turning on an internet troll.”
Lena Dunham and her radical body-having-ness give me great joy.
What frightens the media most about Lena Dunham is her body ownership. And not in a mermaid, “own it girl!” kind of way, but in an actual meaningful owning of an item kind of way.
Her body is hers for the showing or concealing or storytelling or sharing. And it doesn’t matter what you or me, or reddit, or anyone else in the world says.
And I’m going to try to incorporate that into my body more. And maybe it’s why I find her body so perfect; because she carries it like something that she’s proud of having.
Just in case anyone needed a brush up on the definition.
Did I mention that it wasn’t last year that I understood the difference between Subject and Object and so fully understood the meaning of Objectification?
Live and learn.
A friend of mine posted this the other day and I loved it.
I love watching guys put on condoms
Because every guy does it differently
I love having that little moment to watch and learn some little thing that he doesn’t know he’s showing me.
Does he turn his back?
Does he stand or sit?
Does he come to the bed and then put it on,
Or put it on wherever he got it and then walk over to the bed?
Does he smile and keep engaging with me, or is he absorbed in the task?
And he comes back to me and we kiss and everything is slightly different from the knowing. [x]
A lot of my friends hate dealing with condoms but to me there’s this quality of intimacy to it. It’s like the first moment you get to see what kind of underwear your partner likes to wear and they’re tiny plaid because they’re just for him, he’s not showing them off or anything.
I didn’t realize before that you like to treat yourself to the soft kind. I didn’t know you love to cook yourself really nice meals even though you have no money. I didn’t know you like candles. I didn’t know you were going to look so cute while doing that thing you love and enjoy.
I feel the same way about watching a guy shave. There’s something so intimate in watching him stare into the mirror and slowly drag a razor past his adams apple.
Last week a friend sent me this article suggesting it would be good for the blog.
Oooh, scary words. Scam. Deadly. Young girls.
Let’s take a step back for a moment.
This vaccine is new and so we don’t know what the effects will be on a person 50 years after they get it. True.
However, it’s a vaccine. It has already demonstrated how much it can help people.
Stop spreading fear.
Last month I spent some time with a guy I have a bit of history with and he basically told me that while I was very attractive, he likes girls who like to wax or shave, often. And a most miraculous thing happened. I felt nothing. Or, more accurately, I thought, “For you I’m supposed to put in that much effort? Fat chance.”
I didn’t think, “THIS IS SO INCREDIBLY EMBARRASSING!” which is exactly what High School Me would have thought before burrowing under the covers, putting on all her clothes plus a coat and hiding in the bathroom and crying.
I didn’t even think “I can do better” which is what One-Year-Ago Me would have thought.
This interaction was exactly what I had spent my entire post-pubescent life fearing and when it finally happened I felt a strange mix of apathy and self-confidence.
This is the way I like my body and if it isn’t the way you like it then I’m not gonna change it, but you can go find another one. Free country. No judgement. No harm, no foul.
Then I asked him if I could write about this and he said he’d be surprised if I didn’t. Ah, friendship.
Also, this. I know that people are allowed to have preferences about whatever they want. Just ask all the guys I didn’t date because they had short haircuts or perfect tiny noses or a habit of breathing on me, however, health, it’s important.
Sometimes it’s the strangest things that make you get over huge hurdles, or realize that you’re there already.