On nudity and morality
Last night I was conversing via headset with some men (initially my husband's friends, though we have a good rapport, as I play online with them whenever an interesting RPG is released), and somehow the subject of my hair color came up. One of the guys didn't believe my hair was purple, so one of the others posted the link to my husband's MySpace as proof. (My own is private, whereas my husband has several photos of me on his, which is public.)
Now I should note that the photos my husband has of me on there are quite...varied. Among them are a couple of more risqué photographs, including one from a casual photo shoot I did with friends a few years ago when I visited them in Georgia, and another taken at a different time. I happen to love those photos, as does my husband, but since MySpace does not allow partial nudity, all objectionable parts are covered in these particular photos (either by pose or by censorship bar).
Apparently this guy was the last of the group who had not seen my husband's MySpace, and he was surprised to see so much of me. (I must actually give a great deal of credit to the rest of these men, because they have never made a big deal out of it, and have pretty much always treated me as "one of the guys.") He commented repeatedly about how he felt it was unfair that the photos were censored, so I responded that he could see the originals if he'd like. He was shocked, and said he didn't feel right seeing another man's wife naked.
This struck me as incredibly ridiculous, as not twenty minutes earlier he'd been talking about porn. "So, you only search for porn made by single women? How can you know?" I thought it was a legitimate question, and his response was, "Well, I don't know, so it's okay."
And so I come to my first objection in this story: I do not feel that purposeful ignorance is an excuse for anything. This guy continually said it was a moral objection for him, but his morals apparently don't apply in all situations. If I say I'm a vegetarian for moral reasons, I can't devour a mystery meal that has a 50/50 chance of containing meat without asking about its origins, and be magically spared from moral condemnation. My unwillingness to learn the truth does not save me from the possible immorality of the situation. And furthermore, since morals are personal constructs we build based on our own senses of right and wrong, I consider that self-delusion, which serves no purpose whatsoever. You either stand behind your morals 100%, or there is no reason to have them. This is not a matter of being tricked into breaking your moral code - this is deliberate, willful ignorance. That’s not an acceptable loophole.
My second objection is to the idea of this being inappropriate in the first place. I would like to point out that not only does my husband proudly display those photos, but also that he was in the same conversation, and had no objection to his friend seeing the rest. He had no objection to those photos being taken in the first place, even though the photography for one set was done by another man (one friend's spouse) while I was a thousand miles away. He has no objection to the fact that all of my friends of the time have seen the entire set, or that they were posted to that same friend's body-positive internet community. He doesn't care that I've changed clothes in front of every friend who's ever visited (female and male), or that I proudly posted pictures to my livejournal when I first got my nipples pierced.
It’s just a body, functional and pleasurable, flawed and beautiful, just like everyone else’s. My body is less expressive than my face, and it’s in emotions that I find true intimacy. Why, then, are people allowed to see my face?
This is who I am. I don't consider myself an exhibitionist, because I don't go out of my way to flaunt myself to people. I do not post photos of my breasts to chat communities, I don't flash people in passing cars, I don't get drunk and lift my shirt to barrooms full of leering men. But I also don't think that it's any stranger for a friend to see my breasts than it is for them to see my arms, my feet, or my face. It's just another part of me, and not one I find inherently sexual. Truthfully, they're not even what I consider an erogenous zone, at least not more so than any other area of my body. I'm much more aroused by graceful hands, and when someone runs their fingers along my palm. I find the curve of a person's back very erotic, and love to have my own caressed. But no one would object to photos of my hands or back.
Furthermore, I detest the cultural idea that breasts must be sexual. The Great American Breast Obsession (which, by the way, has a fantastic acronym: GABO!) is tiresome. I dislike that when I make a comment about breastfeeding, it is met by many men with jeers and "Oh, Mama!" calls, followed by suckling noises and childish giggles. That is inappropriate. The fact that breastfeeding moms still have to fight battles for the basic human right to feed their child in public because - oh no! - the act involves a naked breast, that is inappropriate. Me not being ashamed of my body? I think that's perfectly appropriate.
Why, especially in circles where viewing pornography is considered as natural as breathing, is this so unacceptable? If these people were Jenna Jameson’s neighbors, do you think they’d burn their Jenna-centered porn collection? Where, exactly, is this tentative line drawn?
When I took those photos, I viewed my body differently than I do now. Now I see my body even more for its functionality. My legs were always built to carry me, my hands were always made to form the world around me, my eyes were always meant to drink in every sight available. But now I see my stomach as the warm protector of unborn life, my breasts the source of precious infantile nutrition, my arms as the appendages that hug away fears and injuries. This is nothing to be ashamed of. This is nothing to hide.
Now I should note that the photos my husband has of me on there are quite...varied. Among them are a couple of more risqué photographs, including one from a casual photo shoot I did with friends a few years ago when I visited them in Georgia, and another taken at a different time. I happen to love those photos, as does my husband, but since MySpace does not allow partial nudity, all objectionable parts are covered in these particular photos (either by pose or by censorship bar).
Apparently this guy was the last of the group who had not seen my husband's MySpace, and he was surprised to see so much of me. (I must actually give a great deal of credit to the rest of these men, because they have never made a big deal out of it, and have pretty much always treated me as "one of the guys.") He commented repeatedly about how he felt it was unfair that the photos were censored, so I responded that he could see the originals if he'd like. He was shocked, and said he didn't feel right seeing another man's wife naked.
This struck me as incredibly ridiculous, as not twenty minutes earlier he'd been talking about porn. "So, you only search for porn made by single women? How can you know?" I thought it was a legitimate question, and his response was, "Well, I don't know, so it's okay."
And so I come to my first objection in this story: I do not feel that purposeful ignorance is an excuse for anything. This guy continually said it was a moral objection for him, but his morals apparently don't apply in all situations. If I say I'm a vegetarian for moral reasons, I can't devour a mystery meal that has a 50/50 chance of containing meat without asking about its origins, and be magically spared from moral condemnation. My unwillingness to learn the truth does not save me from the possible immorality of the situation. And furthermore, since morals are personal constructs we build based on our own senses of right and wrong, I consider that self-delusion, which serves no purpose whatsoever. You either stand behind your morals 100%, or there is no reason to have them. This is not a matter of being tricked into breaking your moral code - this is deliberate, willful ignorance. That’s not an acceptable loophole.
My second objection is to the idea of this being inappropriate in the first place. I would like to point out that not only does my husband proudly display those photos, but also that he was in the same conversation, and had no objection to his friend seeing the rest. He had no objection to those photos being taken in the first place, even though the photography for one set was done by another man (one friend's spouse) while I was a thousand miles away. He has no objection to the fact that all of my friends of the time have seen the entire set, or that they were posted to that same friend's body-positive internet community. He doesn't care that I've changed clothes in front of every friend who's ever visited (female and male), or that I proudly posted pictures to my livejournal when I first got my nipples pierced.
It’s just a body, functional and pleasurable, flawed and beautiful, just like everyone else’s. My body is less expressive than my face, and it’s in emotions that I find true intimacy. Why, then, are people allowed to see my face?
This is who I am. I don't consider myself an exhibitionist, because I don't go out of my way to flaunt myself to people. I do not post photos of my breasts to chat communities, I don't flash people in passing cars, I don't get drunk and lift my shirt to barrooms full of leering men. But I also don't think that it's any stranger for a friend to see my breasts than it is for them to see my arms, my feet, or my face. It's just another part of me, and not one I find inherently sexual. Truthfully, they're not even what I consider an erogenous zone, at least not more so than any other area of my body. I'm much more aroused by graceful hands, and when someone runs their fingers along my palm. I find the curve of a person's back very erotic, and love to have my own caressed. But no one would object to photos of my hands or back.
Furthermore, I detest the cultural idea that breasts must be sexual. The Great American Breast Obsession (which, by the way, has a fantastic acronym: GABO!) is tiresome. I dislike that when I make a comment about breastfeeding, it is met by many men with jeers and "Oh, Mama!" calls, followed by suckling noises and childish giggles. That is inappropriate. The fact that breastfeeding moms still have to fight battles for the basic human right to feed their child in public because - oh no! - the act involves a naked breast, that is inappropriate. Me not being ashamed of my body? I think that's perfectly appropriate.
Why, especially in circles where viewing pornography is considered as natural as breathing, is this so unacceptable? If these people were Jenna Jameson’s neighbors, do you think they’d burn their Jenna-centered porn collection? Where, exactly, is this tentative line drawn?
When I took those photos, I viewed my body differently than I do now. Now I see my body even more for its functionality. My legs were always built to carry me, my hands were always made to form the world around me, my eyes were always meant to drink in every sight available. But now I see my stomach as the warm protector of unborn life, my breasts the source of precious infantile nutrition, my arms as the appendages that hug away fears and injuries. This is nothing to be ashamed of. This is nothing to hide.