Skimpy Thongs For Likes!

For many years I marketed myself via my looks. It is how I broke into entertainment. During this time I had a few relationships. I noticed that in those relationships, I was given a lot of freedom. Freedom to pose for Playboy’s celebrity cover/spread…twice, Maxim, etc. Freedom to post pictures of myself modeling, etc online that were very titillating. Funny enough, what I did that was titillating back then is pure child play these days. Hell, a woman can’t post a “sexy picture” anymore without having to pair it with a super titillating video of her awkwardly gyrating, pivoting and swaying around in next to nothing. Anything and everything for the almighty “likes and views”.

Almost 4 years ago I met my guy. He was not a fan of being with a woman who had to skip around in tiny clothes for internet attention. I could see why. How am I respecting my partner when I am constantly seeking the validation, likes, comments and views from other men? I think, rather quickly, I realized I had someone who wasn’t into sharing me with the world. I saw how it made ME feel when HE posted titillating shots for women to drool over. It didn’t feel good to see a bunch of broads talk about MY guy like they wanted to tongue punch his fart box.  I had grown so accustomed to being the TROPHY of a man. I was allowed to skip around and get sexual attention from others because the person I was with would be able to hold his trophy up (me) and brag how he won it. When no one was looking, I would be tossed back on a shelf to gather dust and be ignored. They cared more about how I made them LOOK than about ME and US. I become desensitized to the over sexualization of women. Living in LA, modeling and being around the fashion world and then entertainment…there was no hope for me. I was like a dog being trained to do tricks. If I modeled a see through shirt on the runway? “PRAISE BE! YAY! GOODJOB!” If I expressed concern over modeling said shirt and ask if I could pair it with a bra? “SHAME! HOW DARE YOU? YOU DON’T REALLY WANT THIS!” It was easy to figure out what would get me positive feedback over negative. I caved, little by little. I was never a prude. However, I was never the chick wearing short skirts and crop tops in high school for attention. I wore NIN shirts and baggy jeans. I was changing for others, not myself. I wont lie, the validation? The likes, views and comments? It is a DRUG. That is why so many women are constantly feeding the public with titillation (men too!). The praise and validation they get is like a high. However, it is short lived. You cannot fill a void with fluff. None of it is enough. There must ALWAYS be more. Pic after pic, thong after thong, sports bra after sports bra, squat video after squat video. The posts keep coming. It’s like a bunch of zombies. No amount of brains seems to be enough.

I began to look in the mirror and see what I had become. I was just another chick on the internet posting sexy pics for likes and to grow my numbers.  I didn’t want to be that. I didn’t want to make my guy uncomfortable trying to stay relevant on the internet to further my career. I didn’t want to “dance” for pennies like a fucking clown. I wanted to be a better example. I wanted to be something I could actually be proud of. From then to now, I have lost over 250k followers on twitter. Many accounts tweet at me that “you are not sexy anymore” and “You are boring, where are the sexy pics?”.  My favorite is “you used to be so cool.” or “Now you aren’t even a nerd!.” I used to be cool and lost my nerd cred because I don’t want to be the lady over 35 prancing around comic cons in tiny costumes having to fend off gross guys like I am in my 20s?  I am no longer a nerd with my LORD OF THE RINGS themed living room because I don’t post “sexy pics” in cosplay? Luckily, I am all grown up and see it for what it is. I TAUGHT people my only value was my body. This is my bad. Well? FUCK YOU. I don’t need to “dance” for likes and views in tiny cosplay to be a damn nerd. I had a great time cosplaying, but I am OLDER….and if I ever cosplay again, it is going to be age appropriate. That “desperation” for validation is gone. Would it be nice to grow my business and get more traction online for my store? Sure! However, it isn’t worth the cost. Getting traction online as a covered up woman is a fucking uphill battle. No one cares about you when you are covered.

The worst thing to happen was to see a a very young girl I am close to start to post “sexy” pics. I felt 100% responsible. Young women are taught they ONLY have value if they are sexy. They ONLY get likes, etc if they show skin. Great example I set. One huge gold star for me! I don’t think I ever felt so bad in my LIFE. I LOVE this child as if she were my own. I would move mountains for her. Yet, I taught her posting “sexy pics” is how you become a big famous celebrity! I know, it wasn’t just me. The entire world is now so obsessed with fame and image. Everyone has their selfie filled accounts. However, I am glad I grew up mentality and don’t try to dress and act like a 25 year old anymore. I prefer wearing wisdom over my Mileena cosplay. Hell, I ripped my NIPPLES OFF when I removed it because of all the double sided tape. I am not kidding. They were pumping blood when I tore the tape off. People wondered why I never wore it again. lol. F that!


Now I post a pic and expect nothing. Many times, that is exactly what I will get. I am no longer “interesting or cool” because I don’t want to dress 25 and do squats  butt first into a camera in flesh colored leggings that hug my asshole for likes. Fine. I am lame. That’s ok. This lame ass is content and happy. I have a guy who is proud of me for the RIGHT reasons. I have kids I know actually listening to me when I tell them about the bad things that happened to me when I was dressed in tiny things in public places. The best part, is knowing that because of my history on tv, etc…some of those kids are REALLY listening. Tomorrow, I turn 36 years old. I embrace that. I don’t try to hide my age to have to excuse my behavior. Pushing 40 and proud.


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