LIFE

After Being a Black Playboy Girl, My Life Started for Real

Moonshot of confidence

Black Mums 4 President!

Being a wild black girl is my fate since birth, I guess. My real name is Robin Wild. A robin is a bird with a strong territorial drive. Fiercely defending her offspring like a lioness. That’s me too.

Growing up in England with a Nigerian dad, life was hard in school. And the more I was put in a corner of being unruly and wild, the more wild I became as a teen.

Wild hair. Wild streaks. Hihihi.

And I was bored to the bone. Lessons were yaaaawn... I was so curious for life, space, and ocean depths instead. Spaceships were my territory of choice. I was a Trekkie.

And because I could never become an astronaut, I dreamt of going on the ocean. Freediving. Sailing the world. That kind of stuff. I was a dreamer. A weirdo. A nerdy. Writing my world full of stardust from a young age on.

Wild to my core, my blood and my bones.

Always journaling and drawing. Arty Bee.

At 16, my parents didn’t know what to do with me anymore, so they sent me to my uncle Oswald in Berlin. Mum’s bro. He volunteered. He’s a nerdy astrophysicist. And he gave me my life as it is now.

No strict rules. Just logic, math, and magic.

Black holes. And life lessons.

Because I could never become an astronaut, I dreamt of going on the ocean. Freediving. Sailing…

I was modelling to pay my bills when I was 20-ish. Bit of boring stuff for clothes catalogues. And then one day, I was asked to be a Playboy Girl. Out of the blue. I hesitated. What would it do to my friendships? My family? Playboy was definitely a no-go in my family.

Playboy was seen as a dirty man’s wanker tool.

I asked if I could have a ship session at sea. They granted me that. And I was mesmerized. Yoehoe!

Sailing my sexuality on camera…

My mum was appalled. My dad didn’t speak to me for nearly a year. My grandma was worried. And my uncles, aunts, even my nephews and nieces shook their heads at so much unruly boldness.

And my uncle O? He chuckled. He said I should do it. It was great money. I would finally be more free from my boring modelling. And have the money for my next dream: IT, nature, and systemic design courses.

His motto came in handy:

“A life not wildly lived is a life truly wasted”

Playboy Girl

The actual photography session was nothing dirty or shameful. The photographer was a great woman making me feel comfortable and daring. We had so much fun together!

She showed me all the takes. And asked me all the time if I wanted to open my legs or close them. If I wanted to hold my breasts, wet my lips, or not.

She was kind to my personal comfort level, so to say. Great remedy against #metoo stuff.

We hid my boobs and buttocks behind sails, shawls and ropes. Made the sailing ropes into fantasy tools. Because forbidden goods hidden are hugely more sexy than everything nude.

That’s also why a nudist camping is not sexy at all.

It just… plain… nude…

We made my Playboy session steaming HOT by NOT showing forbidden fruits. Hinting at them. Showing a glimpse. And adding fantasy. I learned about sacred, feminine, sexuality there and then.

Sexuality is all in the mind. It’s all about fantasy.

The photographer kept saying:

“Sharon Stone. I wanna see Basic Instinct. Beeeeee Wild”

And that’s how I got my nickname from the other girls afterward.

Bee Wild.

After my session, more girls had shoots that day. I was first and tried to live up to my name. The photographer apparently liked my talent because she kept saying to the others:

“Beeeeeeeeee Wild. Like Robin. Like Bee. More Beeeeee!”

And my confidence in myself finally grew strong. During that day, I grew a stronger spine than I ever had in my life. I have never found myself particularly beautiful or clever. I was always told I was too this and too that.

Never just good enough.

I matured on that Playboy boat. Doing not-even-so-terribly-wild-stuff in front of a camera. My self-confidence was boosted big time.

That confident feeling also never really left me. Apart from that time with the father of my May. But that’s for another story…

After Playboy

When my photographs were published, a rocky time arrived. My family is very fond of heated discussions. The pros and cons were juggled, cooked, and served for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

I was the saint. I was the sinner.

I Was the Goddess & Devil in One

I kept my head low during that time. Just lived my life in Berlin with my Uncle O, my friends, and my IT studies. Not many friends knew about me being a model. Let alone a Playboy model. And I left it at that.

I didn’t want to be the wet dream of my male friends. Or trigger the jealousy streak in my female friends. I’m just Bee. A bit Wild. They know that. They like me for my wild creativity and artivism.

They don’t have to know all about me.

It only confuses their picture.

My Sexuality Soared

The money paid for my studies. And with hindsight, I’m glad I did it.

The Playboy session had awakened my sexuality. Especially the realization that sexuality is fantasy did something for me and my then boyfriend. He knew all about it, of course.

Sexuality is all in the mind. It’s all about fantasy.

My being a Playboy Girl turned him on big time.

We experimented more freely than we ever did before. I found out that SM and exhibitionism aren’t for me. I found out 50 Shades of Grey is not turning me on. I don’t want to be dominated. I don’t want to be a dominatrix either. I want sacred and feminine. Love & lust together.

Beeing Wild is about flow & focus. Focus and flow.

Finding out we could flow on the energy of fantasy was our biggest gain at that time. Daring. Showing ourselves to each other. Nude. And nearly nude. And with our minds, skin, and senses fully opened.

Strip teasing. Not only on Sexual Healing by Marvin Gay. My fav song at that time was. “You can Leave Your Hat on” by Joe Cocker.

Appropriate name, Cocker.

Great Wild Singer with a unique voice, our Joe.

I didn’t want to be the wet dream of my male friends. Or trigger the jealousy streak in my female friends

My mind images always came back to the sad and mesmerizing Czech book and film about the Cold War. Daniel Day Lewis and Juliette Binoche with her hat in “the Unbearable Lightness of Being.”

I’m an avid reader and wannabe script writer after all.

“Central Europe, 1968: A Czech doctor with an active sex life meets a woman who wants monogamy, and then the Soviet invasion further disrupts their lives.” — IMDB Unbearable Lightness of Being

Maybe my next script will be called “the Bearable Lightness of Beeing Wild”. Hihihi. I just keep writing. It’s me. It’s Bee.

And life is magically Wild.

Tell me what kind of stories you would like to read from me. There would be lots of futuristic space and ocean in my fiction, of course. But I will progress my real life stories here as well.

I have just started.

I’m now a black mum with a job in coding satellite info for real life sea solutions. Do you know that seaweeds are absorbing 20 times more carbon than land forestation?

And I want to good world for my daughter May (5). That’s why my artivist slogan is: “Black Mums 4 President!” Black Mums aren’t writing about unimportant stuff. We aren’t so stuck up about sexuality being just wanker’s lust. Sacred Sexuality gave us our children, hasn’t it?

Love & Lust belong together, don’t you think?

With an ampersand (&) of one immersed into the other, as the editor of AfroSapiophile Johnny Silvercloud just pointed out to me about ampersands.

Flow & Focus…

Life can be surprisingly beautiful! Thanks, Joe! I leave my hat on! Thanks, Juliette Binoche. I loved “Chocolat” as well, by the way…

And thanks, dear female Playboy photographer! You helped me become the confident Wild Bee I am now. I’ll never forget that Playboy shoot exploring my sacred, hidden, fantastic sexuality on camera together.

Although I have forgotten your name. Shame on me!

But what’s in a name? Bee… Wild…?

Buy me a coffee. Let’s chat…