Note: This is a continuation of my prior blog post about how I was in a long sex negative relationship and how I eventually escaped it by standing up for myself and what I wanted. This post is about recovering from the emotional damage and finding confidence in yourself.
In this post, I am brutally honest about me and my insecurities. In sharing this part of me, I hope I can show one person that has felt like I did or experienced what I have, see that there is something better out there.
At first glance, the BF liked what he saw in a few pictures of me. All I saw was an overweight, uncomfortable and awkward girl that didn’t feel anywhere near cute or pretty or sexy. I saw beauty in my eyes, hair, and boobs, but everything else was… well, I didn’t want to think about it.
|These are my boobs.|
Now he wanted more pictures. He wanted pictures of my feet. That was easy – I do have nice feet. Were they sexy? How was I supposed to know? Apparently they are because he jacked off to them the day he get my pictures. I remember modeling my feet, trying to figure out what the best angle was. In the end, I figured I couldn’t go too wrong with feet.
We started skyping, and what he saw through my clothes he seemed to like, but I was so uncertain about going further. What if he decided he didn’t like it? What if he wasn’t attracted to me? What if he were disgusted or repelled by all the extra fat on my body? Would he care about my stretch marks, brought on by rapid weight gain from depression and medical issues? What about my extra body hair, where I have to pluck and tweeze and shave and wax almost every day?
He complimented me on my looks. It was uncomfortable. I didn’t believe him. I couldn’t see what he was saying – when I looked in the mirror, I hated what I saw. I hated to even watch the little window in the Skype screen that showed what I looked like. It wasn’t pretty — to me.
Eventually he asked to see my boobs. I have beautiful boobs, in my opinion, so I allowed it. When I pulled my dress down and showed them, he gave a little gasp and called them “Perfect.” He loved the size of my DD’s… my large areolae that are the lightest pink, and my big nipples. He didn’t care about or even see the flaws that I thought might be there. I feared my nipples were too small, they pointed down rather than up, they were lower on my chest than I wanted. But to him they were perfect. He never called them anything else. He jacked off to me, watching me play with them. I began to believe him.
But then he wanted more. He wanted to see my ass. And now I was almost terrified. There was no way he would think my butt was nice. No one had ever complimented it. Ever. He asked and I said no for days. He kept asking. He seemed to like what he saw when I was fully clothed, but clothing could hide a lot. But he was so in love and interested in me, how could I resist? So one day I showed him. My back turned, facing away so he could see my butt, I heard nothing but a happy sound and he was telling me my ass was sexy, incredible, so beautiful. Exactly the kind of ass he loved.
And them my stomach. My stomach which is the biggest part of me, the most frustrating part. It’s fine, despite its stretch marks and a fat roll that ends just above my pussy. He calls it sexy, he loves to see it, feel it. He doesn’t care how it looks when I’m in my corsets or interferes with my underwear or strap-on harness. It’s a sexy tummy for him.
I felt a change starting to take place in me. It was incredible, this feeling that someone could see me as beautiful or sexy. Was it possible he could really like me for me, just as I am?
Fast forward a few weeks, and we are now skype masturbating together. I keep the camera focused on my chest and face. He coaches me through multiple orgasms, the first ones I’ve ever experienced. Afterwards, I flip on my stomach, still naked, head resting on my hands, giggling and talking with him. He asks me to shift the camera so he can see more of me. I turn it, so he can see some of my back, ass, and thighs. He loves the view. At some point he makes me laugh, and when I do my ass rises in the air slightly. He notices and his attention is drawn there. I lay my head down and push my ass up. His response is burned forever in my memory: He jumps up in his chair, punches the air, huge smile on my face, slight growl escaping his lips.
I ask him what is going on. He says, “Ohh god, you’re so fucking beautiful! I can’t get over it!” And I break into a smile, blushing red. He sees it immediately, and I’m hiding my face out of shyness. I’m overcome with this warmness in my heart, this joy infecting my soul. I’m convinced: to him, I am as beautiful as he could want me to be. Whatever the flaws and imperfections I see are unimportant and he sees only beauty there.
Time has passed since that moment, but I will never forget it. Every day he tells me over and over I’m beautiful, I’m sexy, I’m pretty, I’m perfect, I’m cute. He can’t keep his eyes and hands off me. I totally and completely believe him.
But more importantly, I believe in myself. Beauty comes in different packages. I am going to work on getting back to the shape that I prefer for myself. I’ve started that journey and will continue it. But I am no longer trapped into one version of myself that is beautiful and the current version is not. That’s not how it works.
One of the keys to great sex is confidence in yourself. Without it, you’ll never like who you are and it will show. Your partner will sense it but will have no clue on how to fix it. The only one who can fix it is you. You have to be willing to take the risk, trust in yourself, believe what that special someone sees in you. Find reasons to like it in yourself. It has amazed me as I’ve wandered around twitter and tumblr how much “beautiful” is described in forms I would never have guessed. It isn’t what you see on the newstands and in movies! Its variety in every size and shape and color of boob, areola, and nipple. I’ve seen tiny ones and huge ones I didn’t know could exist – and I see hundreds of “reblogs” under all of these images, because so many people likes and appreciates them and want to jerk off to them.
Does that mean everyone likes everyone? Not necessarily, we all have our own tastes. If you are with someone who doesn’t like YOU – and by you, I mean ALL of YOU – then fucking move on with your life. You don’t deserve to be unhappy and feel bad about yourself with someone. Fix what you don’t like if you can and find that someone who thinks you’re absolutely gorgeous just as you are.
Beauty is never just about looks, its about personality, too. At the end of the day, a bitch is still a bitch no matter how great she looks. She’s a short term attraction, kind of like a carnival ride. But no one wants a carnival ride for life. They want to go to the carnival and then go home and live life. My BF and I started out as anonymous friends before the physical attraction was in play. We were attracted mentally and (yay!) physically to each other. That is the winning combo.