Female Sexuality and Empowerment

Why is women’s sexuality such a hard topic to discuss?  I still feel there is a disparity between the way sexually active women are perceived versus men.  And certainly the burden of consequences – mainly having a child – still falls on women for both prevention and the decisions and lifelong changes or commitments should pregnancy occur.

But that is not the direction I had intended this post to lead.  So let me get back to what I had originally hoped to discuss.

How many of us are horrified to think of our parents having sex?  I know I have been.  I was an only child so I would tell my parents that as far as I was concerned they had sex one time.  Because of course that was all it took to get pregnant with me and there was no other reason to ever have it again.  I was fine with that story.  In reality I knew my dad had clearly had sex twice because I have a half sister but that was about 25 years before I came along and with his first wife so that was ok.

When my husband’s mother remarried in her 70’s recently he most definitely did not want to think about her having sex with her new husband.  He seemed happy to think it was only three times with his father to produce her three sons.

My sister has always been very open about sex.  It seems she and her husband have had a very happy, fun sex life throughout their over 50 years of marriage.  I honestly believe she raised her children with that openness.  I’m sure this was much to their chagrin while growing up but I feel they have all found similar satisfaction in their marriages. 

I was raised being told by my father to keep my legs crossed and say no.  That’s it.  That was really all he needed to say.  It was always implied that my father was a playboy in his youth but it was never spoken outright.   As Daddy’s little girl really all he had to say was keep your legs crossed and say no and I listened.  I genuinely don’t remember any other big “sex” talks growing up.  I know my parents were very uncomfortable when I really pressed to understand where babies came from so they found me a book on the subject suitable for my age at the time.

When I was in high school the movie Easy Money with Rodney Daingerfield came out.  I remember laughing at the plot of the daughter who refused to have sex because she had been raised similarly. Her husband tried to convince her it was ok because they were married.  When she finally did give in he couldn’t keep her off of him.  I told my friends that would probably be me when the time came. Because the one thing I did understand was that it would be ok after I was married.

Much of my “sex talk” at home that I remember was my mother and father occasionally making little comments around me at times or telling dirty jokes I knew sex was for after I got married.  Beyond that I knew simply to keep my legs crossed and say no.

I was watching a video recently on being a sexually confident woman.  She spoke about what so many of us were taught.  Good girls don’t have sex outside of marriage.  Good girls don’t dress like ‘that.”  Good girls don’t have “that” type of sex.  Then she made an important point.  I’m not a girl.  I’m a woman and a wife.  And it is ok to be an exceptional wife and to get out of my head.  I am a guilt laden person by nature.  It is something I struggle with daily.  I can feel guilty because I ordered dessert or because I bought a $25 shirt or maybe I decided to sit down and spend time for myself reading.  My husband gets frustrated because the cat broke his razor and I feel guilty.  So being raised to be a “good girl” I think I always have some guilt when it comes to sex.

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I wanted to raise my daughters differently but I’m sure I failed them.  I remember telling them not to have sex until they knew they were in love and could trust him because it messes with a girl’s mind and emotions. I do believe this is true.  I remember trying to scare them about STD’s and pregnancy too.  We do those things as parents to keep them safe but I still failed them in sexual empowerment – if for no other reason than because I didn’t have it.

I have been seeing so many posts for boudoir photo shoots.  I don’t like being naked.  I have never felt good about my body.  I blame movies and magazines for that.  TV shows have average looking overweight men paired with super sexy wives. I’ll never look like a Victoria Secret model or Jennifer Aniston. I don’t like having a mirror in my bathroom.  I am very private.  I really wanted to try the photo shoot.  But I am also far from the target age even though I think I look pretty good for my age.  I couldn’t see spending the amount of money they seemed to cost but I knew I wanted to try it.  It just happens that I saw a special for one shortly before my husband’s birthday and our 10 year anniversary of becoming a couple. Before I could think too much I signed up and paid a deposit.  Then I became very nervous.  I didn’t have anyone I could talk to about this.  I couldn’t tell my daughters.  Could my mother relate?  I was definitely in over my head.

I started my internet research and then started shopping Amazon as suggested by the photographer and quickly began feeling overwhelmed.  I created wish lists and decided to go to the Victoria Secret outlet.  I wandered around the store still feeling like I had no idea.  When the young girl asked if I needed help I actually accepted her offer.  As she was helping me I blurted out, “I foolishly signed up for a boudoir photo shoot.”   “That’s great!   Those are so empowering! What ideas do you have?”  I admitted that I really didn’t know what I was doing and she immediately went into action looking for outfits.  Another salesgirl joined her saying she had heard what I was doing and was so excited that she had to jump in too.  Several outfits in hand I was suddenly feeling slightly empowered, still nervous, but excited and with some ideas.

I also spent way too much time shopping kimonos

The photographer had suggested we look for poses so I started pinning ideas.  I had read some posts that suggested the photographer get to know the client and discuss some poses beforehand so I was thinking this would happen.

I told my mother about the upcoming photo shoot and she thought it was great.  She couldn’t help me but she was excited.  Eventually I told my oldest daughter.  She had suspected it from things I said. I told her I know you don’t like to talk about that kind of stuff when it comes to me. (She was very grossed out when I made a joke about my husband and I dying together in our 90’s with him on top of me.  I said you don’t mind when your 70+ year old aunt talks about it and she said ‘that’s because she’s my aunt!’)  She told me she was ok with it because “you will be clothed.”  She agreed to be my alibi when my shoot came so I could tell my husband I was hanging out with her.  My younger daughter also was told and tried to pretend it wasn’t happening.

The photographer created a Facebook messenger group with all the ladies signed up for that day.  It was clear we were all nervous.  I was the last appointment of the day and was happy about that.  I stopped at the bar for a double old fashioned before going up to start hair and make up. 

The set up wasn’t what I was expecting.  I was having hair and makeup done on one side of the room while the previous appointment was having photos done in front of me.  This is why I was happy to be last.  No one else was there to see me.  I showed the photographer and makeup artist my outfits and asked for their opinions.  The photographer went to work as soon as I was “dressed.”  She had poses she asked me to do.  She did not ask if I had any specific ones I might like.  She didn’t show me any on her camera as some posts suggested doing to help me feel better.  I know I rarely have my eyes open in pictures.  Did I look sexy or did I look like Amy Farrah Fowler on the Big Bang Theory trying to be seductive?  Was my forehead super creased or was I relaxed?  It all happened very fast.  At the end they asked if I felt empowered and I honestly answered not yet but I could tell them when I see the photos.  As I waited anxiously for a sneak peek, I started feeling a little wham bam thank you ma’am and wondered just how bad will they be?

I reached out to the photographer as our “anniversary” date was upon us to see if the sneak peek might be available.  She got them to me that night.  I confessed to my husband what I had done and we opened them together to look at them.  Clearly the photographer knew exactly what she was doing.  Not giving me time to “get in my head” was exactly what needed to happen.  My husband was beyond shocked and pleased with his gift.  He completely understood how outside my comfort zone and personality something like this was for me.  I couldn’t believe these pictures were actually me and that I had done this!  My husband is hopeful that the photos help me see myself as he does.  I am thankful for photoshop!  I have to admit that I find myself looking at these photos at times and wondering who the woman is looking back at me.  This is definitely not porn but I do feel they are very intimate photos.  While I am sharing a few, they were a gift for my husband so you get only a small taste.

Since doing the photo shoot I have continued to try to empower myself.   Women have so many issues throughout life with hormones and emotions.   The one thing I know is that it is only too late to make a difference when we are done with this life so late is better than never.

I have found myself ordering a book featured on Apple New recently to continue my empowerment.  The name is horrible but the intention is to improve women’s lives so I have been reading Pussy Yoga by Coco Berlin.  I am happy to see doctors taking pelvic floor health seriously and the advent of PT specifically for this area.

I still have a long way to go to undo long imprinted societal expectations but I hope that I and other women can learn to embrace all the wonders that God has gifted us as women and that we can be free to be the wife we were meant to be.  So here is to female empowerment!  And thank you boudoir photography for a new sense of me.