It was an over confident day to say the least- wrapped in the air of teenage hormones. the illusion of a Brittney spears music video, and the looming scent of freedom (mom hated candles (I know, right? What an extra-terrestrial. So I’d have to light my most flagrant ones when Miss. Hannigan wasn’t home. (jk I love you ma)) .I posed. Snap. Pose. Snap. Pose. Snap. Sexual pose. Snap. Devious pose. Snap. “oops I guess I’m just so sexy I didn’t even mean to be” pose. Snap. pose where I tried to be hot but my face and body didn’t negotiate a treaty with the camera so reality was revealed. Snap. Erased. Trying to regain confidence pose. Snap. Confidence regained.
Flash-forward a couple of days and my sister mother and I are discussing people, places and things. I chime in with a HAVENT YOU EVER HEARD OF just kidding it’s a song, chill. High school me says something like “well- I am all about the selfie. I selfie here, I selfie there. I selfie everywhere!” as I twirl to various areas of the room doing multiple facial expressions and contorting my body in multiple ways for the hypothetical camera graced with my school skirted elegance. My mom makes a face and rolls her eyes as she slices through an envelope which I later can only assume was a metaphor of my adolescence in the eyes of my mother. And she murmurs and nods then sighs and performs what she had been leading up to with a “ohhhh I know…” she looked up as if I had been caught in an act.
What do you know?
Whatever do you mean?
I don’t speak English. Don’t talk to me.
…Did you see me scandalously dancing through one of the windows- or worse- hearmeactually singing? Gasp! The thought!
“I saw you took some pictures on my phone the other day…”
My mind rapidly rewound to when I had my mother’s cell that one over stimulated night coated with the notion that the house and I were once more, finally, alone alas. You see, my mother’s house has two lives according to me: hollow when people inside it. Ahh but empty, empty is when the floors become a stage, the halls a runway, the stairs a plethora of opportunities fo le art of sexual dancing or sorrowful singing moments as one clings to the railings, the music? my muse, the mirrors? My most honest confidants. The shower? My sound booth. the doorframe? The male if the music I’m listening to happens to be a duet. That house has seen more of me then I care to admit. From the multiple dances both planned and sporadic all of which somehow involve a chair at some point, to the emotional singing drenched in my hearts tears internet searches and all around to who I am at my core. The house when empty has seen me all. That being known to me begins to internally panic for who knows what I do in the midst of my mother’s house and I when our affair is in full in effect!! I shudder at the thought!
It was then I remembered that I had gotten my cell taken up by my teacher that day and had not bothered to go back later that day to get it because it was after track and also I needed a break from it for a minute so I let my teacher babysit it. Unbeknownst to me my mom had plans that night. She had forgotten her cell at home which told me that it would probably be a curfew free night for her. My sister was away at school at that point so the coast was clear.
Honey I’m home! I put on my music and the music video and inspiration thrived. Soon enough, I was tired from all my dancing and singing so I sauntered down to the kitchen to at least acknowledge what I had been ignoring (my homework). I heard my mom’s phone begin to ring that obnoxious ring all working mothers seem to have. I scurried over to shut her down. Somehow, as if it was magic, I found myself with the camera pulled up. Not only was it pulled up but it was in selfie mode!
From there who knows where the night went. Oh yes, unfortunately I do. I took multiple shots of me being all sorts and shades of sexual.
I don’t even know how much of her camera role was adopted by me doing the most on every level.
But for me to not delete them??? What. Do. You. Mean. Insert nervous laugh here
“hahah I thought I deleted those.” Was all I could say because well, at least I’m honest?
“they were very sexual…” – mom
“people are born sexual creatures. The human body is beautiful and I will not deprive myself of expressing that view. Much less will I strip away that thoughts vitality by not documenting it. Besides, I was just having fun. I doubt Aphrodite was shamed when she rose up from the foam and stood tall inside that clam for all to see her for the beautiful pearl she was. Furthermore, Ithoughtihaddeletedthemso.” – me with the shame now permeating not just my mind but now my face as well.
“were you sending them to someone?” – mom
“oh, yeah mom. My favorite street corner is where the school bus used to pick me up? No, I just was having fun.”
“okay… why my phone?”- mom who obviously was trying to resurrect this dead ass horse after beating it to death
“my phone was in the hands of another.” Or in this case the drawer but she didn’t need to know that.
I believe I moved on with my life after that but the memory of this incident still haunts me. This honestly is just raw embarrassment, nothing like actually severe though if anything I laugh about it with a side of cringe. I wasn’t even sending them to anyone, they were just for me…alllll me which may or may not be worse but that’s not to say that story stopped me when I “grew up”. Oh, certainly not. If anything, I forgot the story all together but I am instantly reminded anytime someone tries to look through my pictures (death lays upon me the moment someone’s nosy little finger begins to scroll for the poses have not stopped.).
All this said, as the world of sex and technology collides by the second I have and we have seen/heard more and more comrades/acquaintances/strangers of ours fall victim to their photos/videos being sent around (Kim Kardashian is the exception because I mean it’s one thing to become famous and a whole other thing to stay famous so anyone hates on her for getting famous off a sex tape welcome to a life full of bitterness, get over it.).
That brings me to the topic: sexting (because it’s an entertaining topic plus why not?) – the dos the don’ts, what to expect, what not to expect, awkward moments (because wtf do you mean? Of course those happen when one partakes in such actions), the poses good and bad, the ways to reject an offer, how TO make the offer (don’t be shy) , when to send them (because as great as Cosmo is and all sitting across from a colleague and sending him an array of sexual images might not be appreciated when he opens the message and has to explain to those next to him that he didn’t know that was happening + now he’s trying to waistband a boner right before a presentation. Funny for you but all in all probs not 100% appreciated maybe like 75% appreciated but don’t settle for 75% appreciation- fts. ) and most importantly who you should send them to if/when you’re into that sort of thing. SO lets bare it all and *~GeT SeXuAl~*
Xoxo, your girl Leila