I open my laptop, with an email staring back at me, as if it knows exactly what I feel, a wave of curiosity and a high tide of shame.
“TODAY ONLY: Bellessa air vibe PRO 60% off get yours today.”
How does a chunky, curvy vibrator like that even fit inside anyway? In what position would this even be comfortable, let alone tantalising? Pondering and wondering while scrolling through the hundreds of absurdly named toys on the website.
…..Finger pro, aurora soft touch, thrusting rabbit….
So much for discretion. I should have unsubscribed from Bellesa months ago, not that I have any disgust towards using these products, in fact, I wish I had the confidence my friends had to use this. What does that mean anyway? I wish I had the confidence.
Sure, most people I know who fit the ‘confident’ description are couples in strong tight relationships, and some people who lightly interlace themselves in casual relationships. I do not fit the description – a single university student in her twenties, who in my unjust, burdened opinion, thinks I should know myself inside out. Come on, girls also feel horny and sexy, but it all comes to a crashing halt because I wish I had the confidence. And I do, sort of?
Hours of searching up blogs, on Google (incognito mode),
how to feel comfortable in my body – why can’t I self-pleasure on my own – how to be perfect at it –
I do have an answer – a practical way of looking at it – I know the steps, I know the anatomy, but every time I try and I try I get frustrated and I give up, and I go to google again, and it is an endless cycle of searching and reading and trying and crying.
Because no one at home utters a word about pleasure, but somehow, you’re expected to be a pro at mastering your own body, inside and out.
Switch laptop off.
I walk up to the dusty mirror staring at the body that I am stressed about, without viewing it under a magnifying glass, I think I am quite satisfied. Tugging and squeezing the skin at my belly, watching it hug my body after every pull. Making note of how my pants fit around my behind. All in all, I don’t think I look too bad.
At the bottom of my folded underwear pile, I dig up the ‘sexy lingerie’ I bought this year. Purchasing cloth that barely covers parts of my body, hasn’t really proved to be worth the price, but this might be the time I deem it worth my money. Prior to this, my research pointed out that black and red seem to be the sexiest colours. Black is always good, I guess, since red is not for me, that’s for people who are bold and eye-catching. And a part of me still wants to stay hidden in this discovery of myself. I try it on, I play Partition by Beyonce.
I feel an ounce of goodness (sexy, but I am scared to say that out loud). Everything seems to fit in place, the light falls onto my melanin tinted skin with its folds and scars and hyperpigmentation all over. I stop tugging and pulling at my body, but hold it gently, in an empowering and strong manner. I feel like a renaissance picture like this. The song is coming to the best bit.
“Le sexe, je veux dire: l’activité physique
Le coït. Tu aimes ça?”
And then it all falls apart and I want to hide myself under the duvet sheets on my bed. Thick and heavy, so that I don’t have to feel like that again.
What happened to my confidence? I lie there embarrassed, ashamed but mostly confused. Maybe I can change one more thing about myself and this will work. Or is it hopeless?
No matter how many times I see girls on the internet preach of being comfortable in their own skin, I don’t think I can ever get it right. Tweaking and tweaking little features, body hair removal, exfoliating scrubs, body butters. Don’t look so wide eyed, don’t let the focus go to your skinny wrists, maybe I need a new serum for the little marks and spots in little areas.
Maybe this feeling is just inhuman, because I don’t know whether this feeling is impulsive, impure and wrong, or whether the problem is me,
Impulsive, impure and wrong.
And I will never be able to change it, no matter how many times I tweak and try.
I may never have the confidence.
Read this article in WSUP’s Print Magazine XO
