Not Special Anymore

When I was young, I had a boyfriend who was, let's say, more conservative than I am. Nothing wrong with that. There came a moment in our relationship though, that looking back, we probably should have recognized as something that fundamentally separated us as people, and would eventually divide us even more so as we grew up.

When we were in High School, a strange tradition arose. Sometime in the last week of school, a group of Gr.12 students would ditch their clothes and run naked through the hallways. I remember how it started, and I always planned to follow suit (birthday suit). As our time approached, I took into consideration my boyfriend's sensitivity around the issue. Basically he just didn't think it was proper for anyone to see me naked except for him. At the time, I figured that was a valid concern. (I didn't recognize the pressure that put on me and my ability as a person to decide what I did with my own body.) So I told him that despite having looked forward to being a part of this tradition for years, I wouldn't do it. As it turned out, he happened to be away from school during the block of time we had decided to streak. So I did it anyways. I even lead the pack. And it was hilarious and freeing and it is one of the best memories I have from that time in my life. 

Needless to say, my boyfriend was not happy. We had probably the biggest differences of opinions we ever would. As I mentioned before, had we the awareness and maturity to recognize it, we would have seen that a lot of the conversations we had at this time showed how much we disagreed on matters core to our persons. Hindsight. 

I do remember very clearly though, the next time we were somewhat intimate, he pulled back, visibly upset. He told me something to the effect that because a large group of people had now seen me naked, that I wasn't special anymore. That hit me deep. It hurt. I believed him. Just like so many young girls who are told around that age that our bodies are distracting, that we have to be careful with them because of the reactions men may have; essentially being told that our bodies aren't ours. That they don't have worth unless someone admires them, but only in the right way. I believed that I was wrong. I felt ashamed. 

Looking back on it now, I can't believe how ingrained in the patriarchy we were that he thought it would be acceptable to lay claim to a body that wasn't his so possessively, and how I wasn't so enraged by this attitude that I didn't break up with him on the spot. Both of us have grown up and matured (obviously we didn't stay together). Thankfully, I have found my voice, and a better perspective on how I value myself. I struggled for a really long time to disassociate my physical being with my worth and self-esteem. I still get uncomfortable owning my sexuality. I still worry about what people will think based on how I dress. 

I want any potential daughters (or sons) I have to grow up in a world where their bodies are their own, and they wouldn't ever consider any other way of looking at it. I want them to be true to who they are. I want them to be open, kind, empowered, free, and unafraid. 

I read a tweet the other day that said " I need Feminism because...a man in a room full of women is ecstatic, and a woman in a room full of men is terrified." Just reading that made my skin crawl. It made me re-live every time I have crossed the street at night to avoid a group of men, every time I have walked home with my keys stuffed in my fist, every heart breaking story I have heard from my friends who have suffered through sexual abuse (male and female). It made me ache with the vulnerability I have felt that is represented in those words.  

I can do as much as I can as a parent, but I also need society to shift in a big way too. We all do. We need to live in a world where women aren't afraid to own their bodies in whatever way they choose and not feel shame for it. We also need to listen to our victims of sexual assault, figure out a better system for prosecuting assailants, and speak up against the people who sweep these incidents under the rug. Everyone knows it is unacceptable to physically harm another person, to take from them the power of consent. So why are people getting away with it? I can't comment on the policies that exist from an educated point of view nor can I begin to know how we need to change them. I can only know that when I say a small part of my heart withers every time an assailant walks free, that I am not alone in that feeling. 

I did a boudoir shoot recently, just for fun, and when I showed the photos to my fiancé, I made a comment like "I'm not sure what I am going to do with them yet." He asked "What would you do with them?" My answer was simple: whatever I want. Maybe I'll hide them away forever, maybe I'll share them. My body, my choice. Bodies are beautiful, they should be celebrated not shamed. The number of times a body is viewed does not deteriorate it's worth. I am special, you are special, and no amount of nudity can change that.