image via eBay
I used to say that if I had a perfect body, I’d love to be a stripper. There are many, many good reasons why no one ought to be a stripper, no matter how good a body they have, but leaving aside all those issues, my perception of stripping, the way I thought about it, was in terms of power. Having a beautiful body that was wanted, lusted after, desired madly, having control of other people’s desire just because you were beautiful–it sounded like everything I wanted, and everything I thought I didn’t have and could never have.
I still don’t have the perfect body, and I am still not entirely
convinced that the sight of my bare limbs and undulating pelvis will
drive the world wild with yearning, aching, tingling in the
pants…except, why not? Why shouldn’t I feel sexy enough and hot enough
and, most importantly, I guess, strong and brave enough to strip down
in front of no, not roaring crowds, but my sweetheart? He loves my
body; I am trying to learn how to love my body.
Why not rock my body? Put him in a chair, put on some sexy music,
embrace the sheer, silly, wonderful pleasure of dancing sexy and
watching him watch me move, run his eyes over my body, think about
touching me, kissing me, totally wanting me. That’s an amazing kind of
power, the power that comes from your body and your sense of self, and
it feeds on itself, an amazing kind of loop. If you’re not ready to take
your clothes off, just dance. Use your beautiful body. Shake that