If You Are a Stripper, Then You Must Also Be...

I remember being so frustrated as a young woman who stripped and posed nude because of what people assumed about me.

Since I was a stripper, I must also be a whore. I must also be a slut. I must also want to be talked to like an object.

This was probably the most infuriating aspect of my adult entertainment experience. I didn’t know how to put into words what I felt.

The actress and feminist Caitlin Stasey says it so well in Jezebel’s When a Magazine Only Wants You If You're Willing to Pose Nude.

But I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Nudity in the abstract is not the issue, and my body is not the issue either. What is the issue is the way that many men like Ben Naparstek-your-head-in-the-oven believe they have an inherent right to both because of my recent projects and my candor. It’s the same logic we apply to a woman’s sexuality. Just because she’s fucked one guy she must be available to all of them, right? Just because she’s wearing a short skirt, just because her shirt is sheer, just because she is a woman, she must be available to me.

Men were surprised when I didn’t want to be paid to have sex.

Men were pissed when I didn’t show them everything they wanted.

Men were enraged when I told them the truth.

Why was I making trouble? Why was I fucking with their view of women? Why was I insisting on being a person with my own ideas and feelings?

The sad thing was that often I listened to what they said. It’s not that I didn’t know I could say differently and stand up for myself, but that I was not properly equipped to do it.

I was young. I was scared.  I was vulnerable.

Today I am still trying to impress completely upon myself that I have agency and that I make the decisions about my body and it doesn’t matter what others think.

I have a right to be who I am just as I am. Clothed or naked.

I do not need to explain my choices to anyone if I don’t want to.

It’s been a long journey to get to where I am today and I am grateful for who I have become even as I acknowledge I still have a long way to go to truly understand and forgive myself.

My butt: The beauty of the before and after

Goodness, there has been an awful lot of stripping down going on lately by mothers. From the Dutch model Lara Stone, who posed nude post-baby for System Magazine, to Kim Kardashian’s greased up Paper cover, there is definitely no longer a need to pay for a Playboy subscription.

The Daily Mail UK says Kardashian explains, “As a role model I'm not saying anyone else should do that, but for me it was an art project and it taught me to do what you want to do.”

You can’t argue that point; it is good to feel empowered enough to act on your own desires and to not be shamed by others’ morals.

I used to do just that.

Before: Back in my modeling days

Then I got older and--wiser? I hid my body away. I covered up. I got more conservative as befits a mother, or so I thought.

And I lost some of my sense of self. I lost some sense of myself as a beautiful, sexual woman. I lost connection to a certain part of myself.

I've watched with interest as celebrities and everyday women claim empowerment through posing nude; it's made me ponder my stance and realize where I stand.

This past week, I've seen the expected parodies and responses to Kim Kardashian's butt: Chelsea Handler has been doing her own selfie-versions as part of the conversation and there’s even a Princess Jasmine version of the butt shot.

This whole posing-in-the-nude-to-make-some-point just might be getting oversaturated.

Of course, maybe that could be part of some kind of solution to how women are portrayed in media. If we see everybody and their mother (literally) in the nude, maybe we’ll get to the point as a culture where we’ll say, who cares?

Maybe we’ll get to the point where nobody will say, “Oh! But you’re a mother! You shouldn’t pose nude!”

After: 23 years and three children later

Maybe we’ll get to the point where we really will get to see the diversity and beauty in all different shapes and sizes and ages of bodies.

Maybe we’ll get to the point where every nude image of a woman doesn’t have to be sexualized and presented for a male gaze, but can just be a photo of a female celebrating her body.

Maybe we’ll get to the point where what we choose to do or not do with our bodies will be our decisions to make alone and no one will judge us for those decisions.

And hey, maybe the fathers will get in on the act, too. And we can all live in a happy-ever-after world with lots of different naked people all getting along and loving each other regardless of how perfect (or not) our bodies are.

I am freaking awesome just the way I am

I remember the first time I heard Lorde’s song Royals on the radio, before anyone knew who she was; I said to myself, This woman is going to be famous.

When I learned she was only seventeen, I was blown away.

Seeing such talent in young women usually gives me two mixed reactions: 1) I feel like anything is possible and there is still great art and expression to be made by others and myself, and 2) I feel like I am way too old to have any impact in the world with my creativity and I might as well roll over and let the young people talk to the world.

Then I sober up emotionally and intellectually and realize there’s room for all our voices. The “Lordes” and the “me’s.”

It’s imperative to hear what the youth, who are experiencing the American culture upfront and loud make of it, but it’s also important to hear the balance and hindsight of our older voices.

Us.

The ones who have actually been saying “I'm kind of over gettin' told to throw my hands up in the air” for years or even decades.

Witnessing a seventeen-year-old taking risks and feeling like she has the right and audacity to say what’s she sick of in our popular culture, then maybe I can use her as inspiration to voice my own upset as a forty-two-year-old.

I definitely am over being told to throw my hands up in the air. I’m tired of being told to always be happy and carefree. But what I’m really over is being told what I‘m supposed to be and look like in so many hidden and not-so-hidden messages.

And it’s that special time of year again when the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition makes its debut on the newsstands. Showing us again that no matter what we say about women’s bodies, the ones that get celebrated publicly are the ones that fit a certain beauty ideal.

But you know what? I'm kind of over getting told to push my boobs up in the air.

So there.

I’m kind of over trying to live up to our culture’s beauty ideal, of worrying whether my thighs are thundering, of checking my butt in the mirror before I walk out the door.

I’m kind of over big boobs being worshipped.

That’s it.

I’m changing my life today.

I will no longer care what other people think.

I will live my life the way I choose and have no regrets.

I will teach yoga and writing in my own unique way, which will not please everyone, but I don’t care. I’m an awesome teacher and I make a difference in many people’s lives.

I will dance as if no one is watching, even when someone is.

I will sing loud even if people cover their ears.

I will write about the issues important to me.

I’m done with playing small in life. Except when it comes to my breasts. They are small and they are beautiful.

I’m done with never feeling good enough. I’m done with getting down on myself for not being perfect.

Today I take my stand.

I am freaking awesome just the way I am.

Some people will love me and some will hate me. It doesn’t matter either way.

I feel it. I know what’s important. Just like most of the women in our culture know it sometimes.

But I want to live it. Every day. I want to know it every day.

I AM beautiful just the way I am. I am worthy. I am important.

I hereby give myself permission to love my body, my life and myself. Little boobs and all.

Won’t you join me and say enough is enough already?

What are YOU over? What is holding you back from fully loving yourself and your life? Turn it on its head.

Let’s take back our self-esteem and our lives.

Let’s proudly show the world the women that we are. The women that should be—and can be—celebrated. 

But we need to make that choice before anyone else will make it for us. We need to demand the world change to reflect what we want to see.

I'm old enough and wise enough now to not be too proud to admit that I need to remind myself every day that I am worthy. That I am freaking awesome just the way I am.

Let's be the women who make that change so that our daughters won't need to remind themselves of that ever.

Get Naked in Seattle

Yanhong Ma’s “Venice Hotel,” 2012.

I wish I was in Seattle to see this exhibit called "Get Naked," as reviewed in the Seattle Times.

“Get Naked,” at Bryan Ohno Gallery in Seattle, comprises works by eight women who depict their own and others’ bodies in ways that are honest, graphic and elusive, writes reviewer Gayle Clemans.

I go back and forth in my mind about how and what I feel the need to express about the way women's bodies are represented.

I feel like there's something inside of myself. Something to be expressed.

I'm glad there are other women out there actually doing it--exploring female imagery in relation to sexuality and power.

I'm getting a creative itch that I don't yet know how to scratch.

Model Poses in Sandy's Destruction

Do people have no shame anymore when it comes to publicity?

Wait...this doesn't surprise me at all.

Publicity is all about doing something that gets attention. Model Nana Gouvêa got attention. Posing amid Sandy's destruction.

I like the Internet Memes that have sprung up showing Gouvêa inserted into different tragedies.

Alas, that just gives her more free publicity, which is probably what this was all about.

If this had been done in the name of Art (with a capital"A"), would it have made a difference?

Perhaps if there was a vision or a message being sent, I would think, yes.

What do you think? Can and should Art be made from devastation?

Lap Dancing is Not an Art Says New York Court

The AP reports that the courts have decided and the verdict is...lap dancing is not an art!

I had a feeling that his might be the finding, but what surprises me is how close the vote was; the vote was split 4 to 3.

It looks like Nite Moves strip club is going to have to cough up the back taxes they owe or get to choreographing those lap dances better. Maybe throw a few tutus on the dancers. You know, high-brow it up a bit.

What do you think? Should stripping or lap dancing be considered an art?

Stripping as Art? Life as Art!

I had a fun interview with Thom Hartmann on The Big Picture about whether stripping is an art.

I absolutely think that stripping can be an art, I really do.

There were times when I would really get into character and feel incredibly sexy and beautiful and put on an amazing performance.

But there were other days, other stages, where I felt belittled and demeaned where I could barely move my body.

I do think stripping can be done as an art, just as anything can be actually.

Unfortunately, we're all so busy just trying to earn our salary and make a living that we often lose touch with approaching living itself as an art.

Life can be done as an art. That is what I strive for.

Can Anything Be Art?

Painting by Richard Phillips from The Huffington Post

There's a Zen saying that goes something like this: How you do anything is how you do everything.

If that is true, is it not possible for just about anything to be done as "Art"?

After my latest Huffington Post blog The Art of the Lap Dance: As Told by a Former Strip Tease Artist, I’ve been thinking about this whole idea of art.

I mean, really—who gets to decide what art is or not?

Then I ran into this piece today: Lindsay Lohan, Adriana Lima Paintings By Richard Phillips: Are They Really Art?

The writer Michael Hogan asks some great questions about how we determine what is art or not in relation to Richard Phillips’ huge painting of celebrity women:

“You can call it a sad commentary on the way we live now, but is that on him or on us? If Phillips is holding up a mirror to our environment and all we want to do is smash it, whose fault, really, is that?”

Do you think it’s possible for anyone to do anything and have a grand “arty” explanation for it and that makes it art?

Or do you think Art (notice the capital “A”) must meet certain other standards?