Be Kind To My Mistakes (Part Deux?)

*suuuuuuuck* :: exhale ::

okaaaaayyy...

I'm going to go ahead and mention it here. Because it's my personal space and only a few of you know about it, and what few of you here that still manage to hang in there know me fairly well and I generally trust as one can trust folks they meet on the internet. So I'm fairly comfortable posting this at present. Although how I'll feel in another hour day or so remains to be seen.

This past Sunday, I started an xpeeps page.

Okay okay okay whoa whoa whooaaaaaa Melissa... Melissa... Melissa? An xpeeps page, for crying out loud? You? who have always been embarrassed about her body? Who wears heavy sweaters and high collars everywhere she goes? Who's even afraid to take her shirt off in front of her boyfriend sometimes? You are putting it out there for all to see? And what, by the way, is your motivation behind all this? And... and... er, eesh ah, what the hey is that long rubbery doohickey sticking out between your tits in that one photo at the bottom row? (gulp)

Alright, so none of you are actually asking me these questions. More like, I am asking them myself, I suppose.

Here's the thing. I'm shy about my body. Generally always have been. Never had the slightest sexual confidence in myself. Besides being violently molested by a childhood friend, I was bullied mercilessly as an adolescent, starting with taunts from him that led on to more and more over the course of the following school years. I was taller than all the boys, uglier than all the girls, and to top it off I had these freakishly huge breasts that made their antipathy towards me even more confusing, as they'd slam me against the walls, one hand over my offending face while the other reaching awkwardly under my shirt, all the while muttering nonsensical doggerel mixed with loathing and lust. I went through phases of not wanting any male attention after that, and I did my best not to invite it. I wore concealing clothing. I even became relieved when around between 1995 and 2000 I started gaining large amounts of weight, thinking that would deter unwanted lustful solicitations. Needless to say, my mental viewpoint of sexuality wasn't healthiest to say the least.

In recent years I've come more comfortable with my looks, my body, and my sexuality, and gradually I'm trying to undo the damage done. Self-inflicted damage, so I blame no one but myself. I may not be beautiful, but I no longer think I scare small children, they way I was convinced I was. Like all of us, I get by with what little I got, and I'm okay with that. Not like I'm out looking for anyone anyway, since I have a fantastic boyfriend who has loved me from the very beginning, no matter how I've looked over the years. He knows about the xpeeps page too, and he's fine with it. He trusts me unblinkingly, and he knows that I'd never do anything that he wouldn't feel comfortable with. He knows this is an experiment. But an experiment on what?

Well, what I have surmised so far is that men sure do like boobies.

I very, very rarely share nude photos of myself with anyone. The first person who even asked was my porn star friend a few years ago, who also encouraged me to make this page, and left me many positive comments and emails after my initial launch. I sent him nudes via email, and I remember how freaked out I was about just that alone. Since then I showed nude photos privately to maybe one or two other people that I trusted, but that's really been it. Although their responses made me feel a little more encouragement about what little sexual appeal I didn't think I ever had. Of course most men who receive naked photos of a girl in the mail are going to be happily receptive, I imagine. I took it all at face value.

Anyway, after being dared by another internet friend I took the plunge into the next phase of the experiment, and set up the xpeeps page. I put a shot of me in the avatar photo revealing lots of cleavage, and mugging in this intentionally hilarious cheesecake smile. And less than a minute after I loaded my page by friend request box was flooded. I mean holy-shit-what-fresh-hell-is-this-what-have-I-gotten-myself-into flooded. Since Sunday night I currently have over 400 friend requests and counting, and just as many emails from every single one. Mostly wanting my IM and begging to hook up, etc. Of course what else does one expect at at such an establishment. And to be honest, it's scary. Really, reaaalllly fucking scary sometimes. Like an episode of Fear Factor, like pouring honey over your head and throwing yourself into a pit of hungry bears. I feel like fresh meat. A side of beef. And my photos aren't even that explicit. Mostly cleavage shots, a few naked breast shots, and one of my bare bottom. That's it. Stuff I've had in my hard drive forever that either Joe took of me or that I took of myself to send to my porn pal. If you could see what some people put on their pages over there you'd think my page would be Walt Freaking Disney. I mean really. I mean, holy crap.

And yet... wow. A part of me is overwhelmed. I had no idea. I mean sure, right now I feel like I have ants crawling all over me, not to mention a slight patina of scuzziness as well. Not exactly the most dignified or erudite of salons on the cyberspace. But all these years of hiding my body, hiding my deeply raging sexuality under fears and apprehensions, I step outside, open my shirt to the world, and I didn't burn up under the fearful heat of their glare. Ultimately, I wanted to do something drastic to conquer my sexual fears. And I did it. And as scared as I still am, I'm also relieved. I feel like I can breathe a little. I feel like I'm okay. I can't quite describe it, but it's an odd sensation not completely unlike liberation.

I still may take the page down in a few days, after the dare-cycle is complete. Or maybe just switch out my nudes to just the plain regular photos that I have in my myspace page. And maybe even see how many of my so-called "friends" jump ship and delete me after that. But until then, it's up. For however long that may be. Doesn't matter anymore. Because I did it once. And that's all I ever really needed to do.

:: exhale again ::

Going to go take a hot shower and loofah this *shudder* clinging film of creepy off my flesh.