stripteasin'

Meatball's birthday came and went, and I still never got around to giving him his birthday present, as logistical factors kept getting in the way: one of us was sick, he had finals, I had my period, we plain forgot about it when we had the chance(further proof I am actually an old woman). But last week, a window of opportunity opened, and I took it and gave my first ever striptease.

Despite Meatball's belonging to a frat and being an athlete, he is quite the gentlemen and never asked for a striptease. I offered. I've thought about performing one for years now, but never had quite the right audience (dating a mixture of jerks and people who made me feel insecure about my body may have contributed to me not wanting to bump and grind naked on their lap). But with him, I definitely did: I know he loves my body, that he'd appreciate it, and that he'd respond in kind with some equally vulnerable display (and he is!). It wasn't super intense or vulgar; I may have been pretty tipsy and a little nervous, but it was straight up me.


And I loved doing it. I felt sexy, it was a huge turn on, and it actually felt pretty natural. Oh, and he liked it too.

Context is obviously everything with an act like this: had he pushed me into doing it, or had I felt deeply uncomfortable, it would've been tainted and gross and dripping with sexism. But I offered to and wanted to do this. Does that take away the fact that it's still something catered to the male gaze? Would it be different if I'd done a dance for a female partner?

For myself, I honestly don't think there is anything inherently wrong with it. I don't claim stripping as a necessarily powerful or feminist act for myself, but it felt amazing, as someone who has struggled vehemently with eating disorders, body image issues and my sexuality, to have total control and to feel truly, uncompromisingly hot. Although it's literally a performance, it was an authentic expression of my sexuality to me: I'm a bold, in control partner, and this was no change from that. Short of painting the female symbol on my stomach, this was as close to a feminist striptease as I'd ever encountered, and I was pretty damn pleased with its non-exploitative feel. It was just good clean sexy fun, for both of us.

But again, context is everything. If he'd demanded a dance and dictated how it went and what it looked like, I'd be out the fucking door.

Much love,
The Sheriff

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