Cherry Bomb of Queen of Cream, discussing the uncertainty and awe she feels for people who can pose naked said

“Maybe it’s exposing that confusion and lack of control to the world that really terrifies me…putting it out there and then letting it be interpreted however it will be. Because in the end, it’s not really about what the audience is seeing when they look. I mean, other people are generally oblivious to the kinds of physical “flawsâ€? over which most of us obsess, and besides, you’re never going to be everyone’s type anyway. In the end it’s just about being able to take in the whole picture and admire what you’re seeing in between your own spread legs.”

Read her whole post here.

Part of the vulnerability of exposing one’s self is that you no longer control the interpretation of your body image. It’s frustrating when people are oblivious to “flaws” we find obvious — mores when they’re not even being oblivious because there’s no flaw. Other people assess us against what they see instead of what we’d prefer to be.

For instance I had terrible asthma growing up and into my middle twenties was painfully, gauntly chicken-chested and sickly. I used to dream endlessly of looking like Spiderman or Superman. Even though I’m grown up now, and strong enough to sweep you off your feet, carry you upstairs, push you back on the bed, and ravish you (or more prosaically load a refrigerator, stove, and washer/dryer into a pickup) I look at myself and see… still no Spiderman shoulders, no Superman chest, and so I find myself wanting. That’s my interpretation of myself based on years and years of no-longer-valid images of myself. (I also still think of myself as small even though now I’m six foot three and weigh 200 pounds, but that’s part of the same phenomenon.)

When others look at me they don’t see the childhood me. You don’t see the isn’t-Spiderman me. You just see me the way I am and not how I wish to be. When you see me I lose control of the interpretation. Objectively that’s not a bad thing but it is a bit of a subjective shock when other interpretations contradict mine. First I want to argue, then I can’t believe you’re serious, finally I start to reassess. I don’t know if I’ll ever lose my interpretation but the confrontation with my self image, the reality checks of other people’s remarks, is forcing alterations.

I bring this up because I’m seeing the same thing happening over and over with the new sex-blog phenomenon of Half Nekkid Thursday that Obasso started. In case you’ve been off line for the last six months Half Nekkid Thursday photos (now HNT for short) crop up now in hundreds of blogs. There’s now even at least one official animated logo. (You can see a partial list of participants in Obasso’s sidebar here.)

People start out really shy. Early on they started out outright coy, often posting just a wrist on a steering wheel or a belly-button peeking out from under a t-shirt. But here’s the thing: comments are overwhelmingly positive. More to the point, when some clueless young person pipes in “but your boobs aren’t as big as Angelina Jolie’s,” he or she gets pounded in further comments.

And here’s the deal with that: Strictly speaking the comments are true — the HNT poster’s boobs probably aren’t as big as Angelina Jolie’s, nor is her waist as tiny as Kira Knightly’s, nor her butt as round as Queen Latifa’s or whatever. The problem is there’s more than one standard of beauty, and for the most part most of us fit at least one of those other standards. (Case in point: Knightly’s boobs aren’t as big as Jolie’s. Jolie’s waist isn’t as narrow as Knightly’s. So why aren’t more people complaining about them? There’s more than one, or ten, or (as my six year old would say) eleven thousand sixty million jillion billion “standards.”) The point? Actually there are two.

Point #1: It’s stunning how often one troll amidst sometimes a hundred complements can bring the poster down. Why? I understand the feeling — I feel it myself — but I don’t get it.

Point #2: Ninety nine out of a hundred HNT-post commenters can’t be wrong. (And since I generally agree with the ninety-nine and I’m an excellent judge I can say with authority they’re not.) We’re all pretty attractive, enough that we have to pay attention when people tell us.

Cherry Bomb also says one “can’t be everyone’s type.” I’d like to challenge that construction. Usually there’s only a narrow section of people who’s type we can’t be. Few people are so limited (and presumably lonely since I think Jolie’s still dating Brad Pitt) that they can’t appreciate your type. Not being the right people for that little slice is important only when one is one’s self a member of that unpleasable group… and I think that’s why the one negative comment in a hundred devastates people. They’re affirming rather than contradicting our interpretation of ourselves and when you think about it that’s a shame. The other ninety nine still can’t be wrong. We might wish they were, but they can’t be. They can’t all just be “just being nice.”

—-

I’m just not self-disciplined enough to formally participate in HNT. I’m calendrically dyslexic so instead I post half-nekkidly at random intervals. But the principle still applies. If you’ve ever thought about participating though I’d really like to encourage you to try it. I think you’ll be surprised. (Remember, it only has to be half-nekkid, and you can get away with more or less than half and still qualify.