Photo by Jason Threet at J3T Photography
As a woman who has been fat most of my adult life, it is pretty safe to say that I?ve had my fair share of hang-ups regarding sex. Even as a body positivist this one area continued to be a long-time struggle for me.
I love having sex and have always had a voracious appetite for the activity. However, I was also the person who had to have all the lights off and be under the covers to feel relaxed during the act.
My perceived figure flaws always made me cautious about letting it all hang out. I remember asking a friend how it was so easy for her to be naked in front of men. Her reply, ?He knows I?m fat with my clothes on so why try to hide it??
I remember laughing hysterically at her response but in my mind, I was thinking about it deeply. There was merit to what she was saying. I mean, I am clearly fat with my clothes on too, and guys still hollered.
If the guys were still trying to pursue me and some of them were lucky enough to catch me why in the hell was I reluctant to let my freak flag fly? Why couldn?t I just strip down to the bone with the lights on full blast?
I would ponder this question for many years to come. In that time I was still having sex with the lights off. However, I had come out of my cocoon just a bit because I would at least not hide under the covers anymore.
Then in 2007, I ran into my first love, Jay. Matter-of-fact he was my first everything: my first serious date, my first kiss, and my first sexual partner. We had gone our separate ways in our early twenties but remained friends.
When we ran into each other it was as if time had stopped and we were right back in the year 1993. It was just our luck that I happened to be single at the time, and he also happened to be single.
Standing in the produce section of our local supermarket we spent an hour chatting it up. People passing by had to wonder what the hell we were doing because they started to look at us suspiciously.
It would be three days before I called him. I remember it clearly. I was standing in the Park Avenue Coat factory on William street in Buffalo, NY when I happened to pull his number out of my pocket.
I?m not gonna lie. I thought I had lost that shit. That is the only reason I hadn?t called him. It was also the reason I had mentally beat myself up several times about the fact that I had not given him my phone number.
This time I was not going to let the opportunity get away from me. I immediately pulled out my phone and gave him a call. This was a calculated move. First-of-all I did not want to take the chance of losing his number again.
Second-of-all it had been three years since I last had sex. I was horny as hell and ready to trash my unintended vow of celibacy. As I dialed I could feel the anticipation rising. Then he answered.
After two weeks of reconnecting we finally reconnected for real. And although Jay sexually knew me better than any other person I still hid from him. Understand it was daylight the first time we had sex again.
I was still working through the mental shit that kept me depressed. Questions like, what is he going to say about the cellulite on my booty? Will he notice that my butt has taken a landslide at the bottom kept popping up in my mind.
Yes. My booty no longer looks like it did when I was 14. Way back when Jay and I were having sex for the first time. My booty took one hell of a hit after I had my daughter. Now I have what I call a now-and-later ass crack.
What is a now and later ass crack you wonder? Let me explain.
It looks as if my maker got tired and said, ?I am only splitting her halfway.? So my butt has a mini crack. It literally only goes halfway up my butt. My butt is the perfect candidate for low rise pants. Luckily Jay didn?t even notice.
During our tryst, Jay decided it would be a good idea for me to get on top. Now, I am a medium fat, as far as the fat spectrum goes. However, I?m also midsection heavy and I am reminded of this every time I have sex.
I have one of those stomachs that when I?m standing up it hangs down and covers my honey pot (vagina). And while eating from my honey pot is relatively easy, stroking my honey pot can pose some small challenges.
Now, these challenges can be circumvented, but that requires me to lift my stomach up and move it out of the way. In the past, I have been told just to lose weight. But here?s the thing. I had a c-section and I?ve lost weight.
Nonetheless, this shiggidy is still hanging around (pun intended). So the weight loss wasn?t the answer. The answer might be to have a tummy tuck but going under the knife for vanity just sounds irresponsible to me personally.
Plus seeking weight loss is a mindfuck that I do not want to visit ever again if I can help it. I am finished with such futile behavior. This is why it was important for me to get past my stupid hang-ups.
Fast forward 11 years into mine and Jay?s long-term relationship and you?ll find we don?t have these problems anymore. Now I simply say, ?Let me move my stomach out the way.? Once I do it the hunger games begin.
LOL! The first time I said this to Jay he and I laughed hysterically because his reply was, ?Move the damn thing out of the way then.? And that is exactly what I did. By doing so I gained the benefit of deeper vaginal penetration.
So, these days I give zero fucks about lifting my belly. Sometimes Jay will even do it for me. This one small act has changed my sexual experience forever. Now, this is what I truly call being body positive. Cheers to all my big belly mavens.
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