Sunday, April 02, 2006

A Lesson Learnt

Ok, time for a little truth. People who know me will recognise occasional snippets from my life throughout this blog, but this is straight up, a story from today.

Well, a story from the past few days, which actually begins several years ago.

At university. At university I wouldn’t say I was a slag, I wasn’t whoring myself round in a self-destructive way but I was having fun. I liked to think I was in control, I liked to be in control. I didn’t like the idea of growing old with regrets. I didn’t sleep with loads of people, I didn’t have a steady boyfriend for four years either.

I’m reasonably confident that I’m not ugly. I did a little modelling. Porn. Actually, it was fun. Nothing exploitative. The guy ran his own website, small then, bigger now. I felt sexy, I laughed a lot, I came at least once. He stayed behind his camera, his assistant, a motherly woman with the dirtiest laugh alternated between passing cups of tea and passing tubes of lube.

And I really did come away feeling empowered. In control of my sexuality. It was a sly secret that very few people knew about me. Something you remember sat on the bus and smile to yourself about.

Hot Teen Fingers Ass. This is the third time I’ve seen myself in an as many months. Yes I fingered my ass, however I was twenty-one at the time. I knew the images would be public domain, but I never thought about how they might be presented, or just how public they might become. I mean, I don’t watch loads of porn, but three times in three months feels like a lot. Click the link, oh, it’s me again.

Cute, Smart Girl Likes The Idea of Being Watched. That’s what more what I had in mind.

In one way I’m proud of the photos, proud of the strong, sexy young woman I see in them, but there is something about their new context that I just find a little grubby. Hot Teen smacks of unwashed middle-aged men paying money, that I was acting against my own volition. Of fantasies I don’t subscribe too, ideas and opinions I don’t want to encourage.

I know I signed a piece of paper and I know there’s no going back. It does feel like what a sexy giggle at the time has been hijacked by intentions contrary to my own.