You know what, fuck it. I love this photo. If Whitman can go into nature and be naked and joyful, then so can I. My body's juicy female shape doesn't inherently make it sexual. // [CW: rape culture] Driving cross-country alone and moving to a new city has forced me to confront my fearfulness about my body. I've survived rape and sexual assault. Some of my fear is probably baggage. But a heap of it comes from the inherent sexualization of a woman's shape. I've been asked to hide my figure in professional settings. I've learned how (some) students (and teachers) will take me less seriously the more apparent my shape is. I've struggled to negotiate the expectation that I become shapeless to protect my professional viability. And, chillingly, maddeningly, I've learned that some people will interpret my body's shape as an invitation to touch it. // But seriously, fuck it. My body is sexual when I'm using it that way. At other times, like in this picture, it's a container for happiness and liberation, it's a conduit for adventure and connecting with the world around me. So if you want to talk about the freedom of embodiment in nature, or the complexity of being comfortable in our bodies' shapes, I'm here for it. But if you just wanna tell me I've got a nice butt, it's chill, I already know. // #freethenipple #rapeculture (at Oregon)
