A few months ago, my best friend and I talked about getting together and doing boudoir photo shoots to make calendars or something to give our hubbies. I immediately ran off to Pinterest to find out how to Photoshop to remove all my cellulite and stretch marks, and to learn what poses would best hide my jiggles and jellyrolls.
For a myriad of reasons, we never got around to doing that shoot, and now I am posting naked, unedited pictures of myself on the internet. Granted, the audience that views them in their full glory is small, but it's a brave step for me to bare myself to strangers.
That's beside the point though. The point I was trying to make is how silly it seems to me now to want to take intimate pictures for a man who knows exactly what I look like, and try to alter them. What purpose would that serve? My husband knows all about my fat rolls, my chicken pox scars, and all the other external imperfections that make up the woman he loves.
Photoshop isn't going to change what he sees when he looks at me.
I'm going to share with you some of the pictures that he took of me in a photo session a few days ago. I wasn't going to use them for stylistic reasons (didn't like the lighting, angle, backdrop, or my eyes were closed or something to that end), but he liked the pictures because they are of me, he could see all of me, and in some of them, I was smiling. Of course he sexualizes these images, which is something that I have to come to terms with. It's hard for me to imagine that he would rather see pictures of me than of porn stars or other, more attractive women.
It's not because I have a perfect body or because he has perverse taste in women (which I have accused him of and I need to say- honey, I'm sorry. That was mean and uncalled for). It's because he loves me. He has accepted me just the way I am, "warts and all" as the saying goes, and that makes me a very lucky lady.
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