Dangerous Curves

So I'm sitting around talking with a friend who's about to embark on her first sexual relationship in quite some time and she admits she's terrified. "Why?", I ask, thinking she's worried about pregnancy or disease or intimacy or something along those lines. "Because I'm fat" was her response.

Pardon?

Okay, ladies and gents, it's time to take a step back here. This girl is far from fat. Granted she's no supermodel waif but she's been blessed with a finely curvaceous form that she should be pleased with. And no, this isn't going to become a rant about the evils of the media who inflict this self doubt upon women everywhere. That's been done to death. It's about how we need to come to terms with our own bodies. It's about how a fabulously sexy woman cannot enjoy or even anticipate the exciting, passionate weekend to come because she's paralysed with fear about how her lover will react to her naked glory.

I fought this battle myself. For a very long time. Obsessed with the idea of becoming thin I stopped eating. Anything. And let me tell ya, I looked mighty sexy lying in that hospital bed.

*thwaps self upside the head*

Whatever deity conceptualized women's bodies wasn't kidding around and he/she/it was fair. Generally speaking, to the women blessed with ample busoms came matching ample hips. To the women blessed with fast metabolisms and tiny little waists came tiny proportions to match the rest of them. And on and on. Women come in all sizes and in my opinion are all beautiful.

And yet the self loathing continues. We stare at surgically enhanced, airbrushed, Hollywood creations and try to measure up. Rather than loving those wickedly dangerous curves we fret about their bounty. Rather than admire those sleek lines, we fret about their lack. And so many women, like my friend, torture themselves with worry over what their lovers will think.

Well, here comes The Interrogator to try to ease your minds.

In the midst of all this panic and loathing a few pertinent details have been forgotten. The first one being that your lover-to-be is probably so thrilled that he's got a live, warm, willing, enthusiastic partner with him it wouldn't occur to him to whip out the tape measure to see if you fit the "proper mold". He's likely to be so charmed and awed by your passion and finesse that he won't notice your supposedly big hips or small breasts. Either that or he won't care. If he does then he's a first class shitheel you shouldn't be wasting your precious self on in the first place.

Next. Why are we all so convinced that we are the only ones who have something to fear? Men have as many insecurities as we do. While we worry about what position might show our most flattering side, they are concerned with being too thin. Or about their love handles. Or about their receding hairlines. Or about their, ummmm, size. Or about their performance. Or any combination of the above. Now, do you really sit there in the heat of the moment thinking "damn, will ya get a load of that bald spot?". Of course not. So what makes you think he's focussed on whatever part of your body you're so concerned with?

Also, taking into consideration his love handles and bald spot and small member, how likely is it that the last woman in his bed was _insert supermodel name here_? Chances are his real life comparisons (if the man in question is crass enough to compare you to his previous lovers) will be other ravishing womanly creatures like yourself. Not perfect, but beautiful in their own way.

So enough with the self flagellation already. Easier said than done I know. But, for once, try not to focus on the negative. Find the positive instead. And don't even try telling me there isn't any.

I could and once did stress out about the fact that I don't have Abs of Steel. Instead I now choose to glory in my magnificent breasts. I could worry about the fact that my hip bones don't jut out but instead enjoy the fact that my butt looks great in the right pair of jeans.

And fortunately, for every man who swoons at the thin, waify look there is one who gets weak in the knees at the sight of a curvy woman.

The most important part is that you learn to love yourself. Be proud of yourself and your womanhood. Revel in your beauty and sexuality. Great sex doesn't come from a perfect body. It comes from total acceptance of the one you have. It comes from the freedom of tossing aside those inhibitions and allowing yourself to enjoy the moment.

Let's face it, what man in his right mind will ever be thinking "well, yeah, she gives great head but damn I wish she'd _insert body change of choice_"?

And anyone who wants to argue with me can just kiss my big ole round curvaceous heinie. *grin*