Banging the Attention Whore Inside Me

I spent the day doing a photo-shoot around NYC. It was a hard day’s work, and I came home exhausted, thinking – why am I doing this? No, it’s not my job, no, I don’t get paid for this, nor is this something I have to do to further my career – I am just helping out a friend, who’s putting together a portfolio. Posing in public turns me shy, and then there is the hassle of dealing with security guards, who for some reason don’t want to allow photo shoots in their buildings without a ton of paperwork and proper negotiations. More than that, watching the preliminary results of the shoot – scrolling through the hundreds of photos and seeing all the unflattering poses and silly faces I make when I think I’m looking sexy – can be absolutely demoralizing. And then, there is the nagging question of whether what I am doing is somehow shameful, since my upbringing (that I can’t completely override, no matter how long and hard I try) has taught me that exhibitionism is shallow and inappropriate, and good girls don’t present their bodies to a  gawking public. Feminism and dreams of objectification do not usually get along.

But I am an exhibitionist slut and this is what I NEED to feed my lust. (I wonder, has anyone noticed that slut is an anagram for lust?) In any case, tiresome and disconcerting as it may be, today was pure pleasure for my starving attention whore.

The photographer was totally self-assured and easy-going, and while I was shy at first to really let loose and shed my inhibitions in public, his matter-of-fact attitude and smooth way of charming security guards and nosy passerby finally got me in the right mindset. There’s something about watching a confident man get into trouble and just as easily get out of it, handle uncomfortable moments and not sweat, that makes me feel safe and less embarrassed of what I am doing. And once we both relaxed and got a fun banter going, the rest was easy, and I was able to really start enjoying the experience. He made me feel like a super star, encouraging me to flirt, look sexy, pose in provocative ways and show off my body.

I also realized that having an audience makes a difference. I am used to having the attention of large groups of people – I have enough experience in public speaking, and I know that the bigger the audience, the better I usually do. But it’s one thing to receive that attention in my professional capacity, with years of experience and a degree of confidence in what I am doing, and totally another to have my body stared at – my body, with all its flaws and imperfections, and all the little things that drive me crazy. I am not a professional model by any stretch of an imagination, and while I’d like to think that a few beautiful photos will come out of this photoshoot, I realize that the majority of time posing there in front of a camera I probably looked clumsy, silly, and pretentious. So I couldn’t even imagine what an ego boost it would give me, to have so many people believe I was a model, and to be able to overcome my inherent shyness, forget my doubts, and just… pose away. As for my feminist side -- as long as I am confident in myself as a human being, as long as I believe in the capabilities of my mind and know that I have plenty to be respected for as an individual, as long as I have agency to make my own choices, I know I am not at object -- so why should I care if anyone sees me as one? 

I came home tired… but also smiling and filled with confidence. This mood may not last long, but I had a chance to live what I teach – there’s nothing wrong in wanting to be objectified. There’s nothing shameful or anti-feminist about being an exhibitionist. 

P(ublic) D(isplay) of A(ffection)

What is the point of etiquette? Or grammar? I often wonder if it wouldn't make more sense if we replaced the first with kindness, thoughtfulness and (genuine) respect, and the latter with clarity and the feel for the beauty of language.... I mean, seriously, why should anyone care if I eat with my elbows on the table or like kissing in public? And yet, some people get disturbed (especially by the latter)....

These people's logic usually works as follows: I don't want kids to see it! or... It's non-consensual display! or... It's disgusting to be forced to look at anyone's tonsils! (like you can actually see those when two people are making out). Like other bodily functions, public displays of affection need to be kept confined to the bedroom or some other dark place where no one has to see it. And yet, these same people watch porn, masturbate, and dress super-scantily to kink events (well, SOME of these people do, anyway -- or so I'd like to think).

This lack of logic especially baffles me in the kink community. I mean, REALLY? Are we so tired of being marginalized, of being raised believing we should be ashamed of ourselves and our sexuality,that now we're willing to take on the role of the censors ourselves? What makes us want to be the voices of intolerance, policing others and ensuring they're just as miserable as we once were, before we dared to become aware of our kinks?

I would much rather children saw the affection and love, often present in these public displays of affection, than the violence of TV shows or the cruelty of practical jokes, so popular in our culture. What is it about someone getting a pie in the face that makes us laugh, what is it about another's humiliation that gives us pleasure to watch, and how are these things any more suitable for those "innocent child observers" who'd at the same time be ruined by PDA? I'd rather teach these kids early on what passion (stemming from love or lust or who cares what) looks like, so it does not become the hidden and forbidden fruit, the drive of their young lives. 

As for non-consensual display... I often see things in a public dungeon or at kink events that disturb me to the point where I can't watch. So? I walk away. If I can't walk, I look away. There's nothing wrong with anyone else's way of finding pleasure -- there is nothing that grants me the right to judge or censor them. Now, I can see how some displays can be distracting.... I too would rather watch two sex-loving people pleasure each other, than sit in a meeting, but -- here the above-mentioned thoughtfulness comes into play. Don't start fingering your partner's nipples at a work meeting -- wait until the break. Don't make out in class -- at least pretend to listen to your teacher who's working hard to teach you something. But out in the corridor? In the streets? As long as you're not blocking my way, make out away!

I understand (or think I understand) that watching PDA can be disturbing, to some, perhaps to all of us, because it stirs our libidos, it makes us uncomfortable, and usually when we are turned on by something we can't have, we can get annoyed, or even angry. I don't have a penis, but I imagine it can be unpleasant to walk around all day with a hard-on, especially if you have no one but yourself to relieve it. But isn't that, at the end of the day, your personal problem? And aren't there better ways of dealing with it than stopping crazy happy couples (or triples, or foursomes, oh my mind is starting to wander...) from showing their affection whenever and wherever they want to?

I suppose it's been too long since my last kink event and so I'm feeling particularly nostalgic, but what I miss most about those cons, more than the sexual high and constant horniness, is the freedom and encouragement I get to simply be myself. To walk around naked, if I wish to, to have sex in the middle of the meadow, to watch a gangbang (or walk by) -- the freedom that is supported and perpetuated by others doing the same. I see how genuinely happy people are, on average, when they don't have to hide or feel shame, how much more peaceful, and I wonder -- why would anyone want to deny that freedom? Why can't we have it, why don't we want to have it in our day-to-day lives? Why, why, why do we prefer to stare judgmentally at those scantily-clad teenagers or that couple making out against the bus-stop glass? 

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On a somewhat related note, my daddy likes to lead me by the back of my neck when we are out in public. The stares we get are priceless -- in every range of emotions, from anger and disgust to barely-hid envy and desire -- and the best part is, technically, we are not doing anything even remotely inappropriate or openly sexual, and no one can do or say a thing about it.....