Friday, May 17, 2013

Who Made You?



When you hit that 'tween stage, the media starts telling you how you should act/dress/behave for your gender. That's when you start to identify with the role models who will shape your life.

There's the teachers, and the firemen, and the soldiers, who all inspire you to reach your greatest potential, to give back, to stand brave in the face of adversity.

There's your friends, family, and the strangers who make a difference every day. The web is full of them.

Your heroes. They help create your overall outlook on life.

But that's just a part of who you are. 

You're human. You have these...urges. Needs. Desires. And that's what I want to talk about today. Because we always look up to our heroes, and we all have our career aspirations, but has anyone ever asked about your sexual identity? 

I'm not talking about your preferences, blond or brunette, bear or twink.  It's not what you want in your bed, but how you project yourself to get them in it. Can you look to someone and say 'yeah, that's what I'm going to be like when I grow up'? Someone who had the qualities you just knew would become your own?


When I was young the public library would show old movies every Saturday afternoon. (For your reference, I hit that point during the late 70s, early 80s,  - yeah, forever ago)

I remember going to those showings and seeing a bombshell up on the screen, completely owning the world and her place in it. She had curves, and she wasn't ashamed to show them off. She was sensuous, sexual, and a bit scandalous.


She was blond. 

She was brassy. 

She was sassy.

She was not Marilyn Monroe.

We don't have her vulnerability, my maven and me. We don't say 'Please love me.' We say 'you do or you don't' and leave it at that.





We don't have Garbo's mysterious aloofness. We put it all on display for everyone to see.














We don't have the grace, elegance, or sophistication of either Hepburn. We're dirty and a bit rough around the edges. 












We don't exude Bacall's cool confidence. We're bawdy and brash.













Nope. I am a Mae West. 

Confidence is sexy as hell, don't you think?


The wit. Check (I think?)
The comedic timing. Check (mostly? sometimes?)
The voluptuous curves. *looks down* Uh, yeah. Big, round check.
The heaping helpings of innuendo.  Fill that box with a long....fat.....check. Repeatedly. ;)

Like her, I'd say I'm a terrible flirt, but I am so good at it. She knew her assets, but she also knew they didn't begin and end with her measurements. Her curves were a big part of who she was, but they didn't define her. 

Unashamed, unabashed, and unassuming. Not a bad way to live your life, don't you agree? 


So, who helped define you as a sexual being? Are you still looking for someone to jumpstart your self esteem? You're always welcome to come up and see me sometime. Because you're perfect, just as you are. 

~xxx~





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