Not long ago, a photographing genius whom I am
lucky enough to be friends with texted me and asked me if I’d be willing to be
part of her expanding her expertise and let her do a boudoir shoot with me as
the subject. For those who don’t know, boudoir shoots are private, intimate,
and usually done in lingerie or something similar. Traditionally they're taken for
the purpose of brides giving them to husbands, directly prior to or on the
wedding day. The male version is called dude-oir *cheering inspired by the
clever pun ensues*. I’ll admit, my initial reaction was one of hesitation,
embarrassment, and abstract terror. The fact that I was single, the fact that I
wasn’t particularly sexy, and similar thoughts all seemed to provide ample
evidence as to why I wasn’t the proper person to be asking. However, after
agreeing and taking them, I firmly believe that every woman (or man, for that
matter) should participate in a boudoir shoot at some point in their life,
regardless of self-esteem or relationship status. Why? Well.
Christians
are notoriously bad at dealing with issues of sexuality or sensuality. Instead
of taking point on the conversation, we tend to shove it under the rug and
pretend it doesn’t exist, thinking if we refuse to address the topic we prevent
ourselves from falling into sin and temptation. Instead, the awkwardness and
shame ensures that we are permanently uncomfortable with an integral, extremely
significant aspect of our being. But I continue to be a sexual being,
regardless of whether I acknowledge that I am or not. Now, as a single woman, I am a
sexual creation. Don’t misunderstand me: that aspect of my being persists
regardless of whether or not I act on it. Refusing to acknowledge or address it
stunts my growth and my maturity. Marriage isn’t the switch that suddenly
transforms sex from shameful to exciting. It’s the context through which sex is
glorifying. But if I’ve been taught my entire life that my sexuality is a
shameful thing, that is a belief I will carry into marriage with my husband
even though the context is finally correct.
In a
boudoir shoot, I am able to interact with my sexuality, sensuality, and
physical beauty in a glorifying way. Moreover, I’m able to interact with it in
a way that brings it into the rest of my being and makes me more fully myself
as a person overall. My body belongs to me and the God who created it, and I
have to be comfortable in my own skin before I can ever invite anyone to be
comfortable with me. The desire to feel sexy isn’t restricted to those who are
married; everyone wants to feel like they’re desirable and worth wanting.
But my
beauty was never intended to be exclusively sexual. The same body that is often
oversexualized or found to be offensive also sustains and nurtures life in the
most miraculous of ways, yet that’s rarely a topic that’s brought up. My beauty
is far more than culture says it is, because it extends beyond how I can use it
sexually. Yet, as girls we’re not sure how to interact with what cultures tells
us beauty is, so we assume we’re not beautiful. Boudoir allows beauty to be
found, explored, demonstrated, painted. It’s an opportunity to correct lies so
often believed by men and women, that something about them is off or wrong.
That they’re somehow worth less just because they’re not as attractive as
another individual. That they’re less valuable because they don’t line up with
what culture says is aesthetically pleasing. With each photo Stephanie took of
me, she handed me another reminder that I am more than I believe myself to be.
That I’m not just a rejected, broken human left behind by all the stories I
haven’t been able to live and the people I haven’t been able to live them with.
That I am valuable because I am. I am beautiful because of the way my body,
soul, personality, and mind come together to form me. She showed me, for a few seconds, a sampling of my glory as an
image bearer, a clouded picture of how God sees me, and she gave me a tangible
way to come back to that reminder on the days when I forget.
Boudoir
shoots aren’t vain, sinful, or immodest. Like everything else in a fallen
world, they can be twisted and distorted. Sexuality can be misused. Decency can
be forgotten. But my modesty will never inhibit or prevent another person’s
lust. My actions are not responsible for anyone else’s actions towards me, and
I’m not allowed to blame anyone else for how I interact or love them, because
that’s not how Jesus acted and that’s not what God requires. On the contrary,
I’m asked to be responsible with what I’m given. Should the pictures go out to
everybody? No. Is there a decency limit to the photos displayed? YES. And here, yet again, I’m handed
another practical aspect of my sexuality that I’m held responsible for that
goes beyond the sexual do’s and don’ts I was taught in church.
Boudoir
forces me to interact with the
severity of vulnerability. Before the camera I’m reminded that being bare
before another human is daunting, precious, and intimate. I’m reminded of the
reason that sex and sexuality demand so much respect – because being naked before
another human being is never a casual task. Not in body, not in soul, and never
in spirit. Being stripped to my base takes away my pretense and my protections
so there is nothing left to soften the potential blow of rejection, and the
moment of realization is one of the single most terrifying experiences
possible. That reminder demands action, particularly in a culture that says sex
is as simple as separating the body from the person it houses. Intimacy is
precious and should be handled with the caution and respect that it demands.
Those concepts become real, even as a single woman, when I let down my walls
before a camera in preparation for when I will let them down one day (Lord
willing) for the man that I marry. But I can’t distance myself from the fact
that I am a sexual being until the day he appears. Because, as my beautiful
photography friend says, “my body belongs to me and to the God that created it.
I get the gift of inviting my husband into that. But I was as full and complete
a human being before I met him as I am now.”
So,
in closing, these are my thoughts. It’s amazing that they all sprang out of a
simple hour and a half photography shoot, but being introduced to oneself
always brings new dimensions of the self into focus. Thank you forever and
always to the beautiful Steph Bailey, who spent her time bringing light and
recalling me to life from behind the camera lens. And if this blog made you
even the least bit curious about thinking about being part of a shoot yourself,
I’ll just leave her website right here ;)
https://www.stephanieraesc.com/
