I’m an Exhibitionist but I Hate My Body

Learning to love myself is helping me explore my desires

I’ve always loved having sex out in the open.

I have a big soft spot for outdoor sex, and I used to have quite a bit of it when I wasn’t so risk averse.

Sometimes, the risk of getting caught felt like it enhanced the experience.

I’ve fucked in the pool at my parents’ house. I had sex on a trampoline a few times. If they had decided to spend a little time on their decks on those evenings, the neighbors might have managed to see some action.

Sometimes the thrill of almost getting caught turned into the fun of actually getting caught.

I grew up in a province covered in green. Even our urban areas are pockmarked with small forests. That gave me plenty of opportunities for sex in the woods and I indulged in it on multiple occasions.

On one particular occasion, I was on a walk down a wooded trail with Mr. Austin. We really had a hard time keeping our hands off each other back then, and in this case, that meant I ended up bent over and gripping a tree trunk while the love of my life plowed me.

We weren’t alone for long. Mid-fuck we noticed a man strolling past us, keeping his eyes averted but grinning wide. We giggled and blushed, but finished what we were doing.

That wasn’t our only time getting caught. For a while, I would regularly pick up Mr. Austin on his lunch break at work, and we’d drive to a secluded road to have some car sex. But secluded doesn’t mean entirely abandoned. A jogger or two has sprinted past as I was getting eaten out.

After I gave up on sex in public places, I’d often decide to leave my curtains open when I’m getting changed or masturbating. It feels so much more liberating and less shameful to do it that way instead of completely hiding myself away.

Besides, I figured if someone decided to traipse onto my property or use a pair of binoculars to get a look through my window, that surely counts as consent.

If you would have asked me to explain this tendency, I would have said a few things. I might have said that the risk makes it thrilling. I could have said that I love nature and fresh air. I may have told you that switching things up and getting out of the bedroom keeps sex feeling novel and fun.

But I would never have said that I was an exhibitionist or had exhibitionistic tendencies. I was so embarrassed by my body, the thought that I would want anyone to see it just didn’t make sense to me.

I Wanted to Be a Suicide Girl

During my first year as a university student, I discovered SuicideGirls.

I became a little obsessed. It combined two things that I absolutely loved but had never seen combined before: pin-up photography and alt women.

I couldn’t get enough of it. The artful and eye-catching tattoos. The colorful hair. The fun setpieces and quality photography. And of course, all the tits and ass.

But I didn’t just want to keep drooling over these girls. I wanted to be one of them.

I started looking at my apartment and trying to think of ways to take sexy, flirty photos in such a limited setting.

I pored over the submission guidelines so I’d know what was involved in putting myself up for consideration.

It didn’t even occur to me to wonder whether the models were compensated for their work. All I wanted was to be a part of it. I wanted to have gorgeous shots of my nude body displayed up on the website for anyone to enjoy.

Plus, being a SuicideGirl would’ve given me an excuse to get new tattoos.

I never submitted my photos. Not because I got cold feet, but because I got self-conscious.

I told myself once I lost 20lbs, then I’d submit. Then, I’d feel good enough about my body to share it so widely.

Well, I never lost the weight. I didn’t even get more tattoos. My goal of being a SuicideGirl fell through, along with any plan to pose nude at all.

Admiration for Amateur Porn

Over the last few years, my taste in porn has shifted.

Instead of the mainstream porn I practically grew up on, I’ve been gravitating more and more to amateur content.

I started looking for this stuff because I didn’t really care for the direction mainstream porn has gone in.

I know I’m not the first one to complain about it, but what used to be extreme has now become ordinary.

Most of the videos I watched had gagging, choking, or face-slapping.

When there was dirty talk, it was more degrading than appreciative.

And while porn always had faked orgasms and exaggerated pleasure, now it was used to mask pain. Female performers would pretend to enjoy the aggressive anal and throatfucking they were subjected to, when you could clearly see their pain and discomfort.

It was a total turn-off.

So, I looked for self-produced stuff. I figured if the performers were in charge of the production, too, the results would feel a lot more respectful.

I was right. I watched men and women pleasure themselves for their audience. I watched real-life couples shoot scenes together. I still came across gagging, but mostly I found loving blowjobs. The dirty talk was the sweet X-rated banter of couples in love. And all the pleasure was real.

It made me fall in love with porn again.

Soon after, I discovered Reddit and spent a lot of time scrolling through photos of ordinary women and men who decided to strip, pose, and share their bodies in this public space.

I love the confidence of ordinary people finding their beauty and showing their sexy side.

For the first time in almost ten years, I felt the way I did when I first discovered SuicideGirls. I didn’t just want to be a spectator. I wanted to take photos and videos of myself and put them up on those sites.

Exploring My Genuine Self

People showing themselves off online seemed so empowering, validating, thrilling, vulnerable, and beautiful. It just didn’t seem like it was for me.

It’s not just that I didn’t have the nerve to do it — I didn’t even know there was a part of me that wanted to.

Looking back, it’s clear to me that I’ve always had a pretty strong exhibitionist side, but it was always hidden from sight. Any thought of exposing myself was immediately squashed down by hatred for my own body.

Before I could even feel a twinge of arousal, I’d be consumed by negative self-talk.

That’s starting to change. I’ve been working on my self-confidence lately, and I have been making quite a bit of progress.

I thought growing my confidence would help me do the things I wanted to do. And it has — I’ve already been getting completely naked with my husband.

What I didn’t realize is that being more confident would also help me discover other desires I have.

It’s like there’s a different person underneath all the layers of shame — a person who isn’t ruled by her insecurities.

I’m still making progress on getting rid of my issues with my body image, but I’m confident I’ll be able to heal from them. And I can’t wait to find out who I really am when those are all stripped away.

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