I’ve never really adored taking pictures of myself. Something is always “off” and not quite profile pic worthy.
My smile is crooked.
A glob of food is lodged between my front teeth. (Eww.)
“Bedhead” is a generous term for what my hair displays more days.
And my skin. Oh, let’s not even go there…
Then, one late night while visiting my hometown of Defiance, Ohio for the filming of a television show about my late mother, I sat cross-legged on the bed in the guest room of my aunt’s house swiping through Tinder as everyone else was fast asleep in other parts of the house.
I’d just discovered good ol’ Tinder and all the requests that came along with it. Some guy that I’d been messaging for all of, oh, 12 minutes asked to see a picture of my nether regions. I literally laughed out loud at this and had to wonder how often this request got delivered on for him to ask with such a quickness.
Though Cassanova didn’t get any thrills from me that night, it did get me thinking, “Just how photogenic is my pussy?” He’ll never find out, but now I want to know, for ME.
So I did the next logical thing and I stripped down to my birthday suit. The summer heat made it easy to peel off my grey Old Navy tee and pink pajama bottoms. I sat on the fluffy floral comforter for a minute in my Hello Kitty boy shorts before committing to the full monty.
“I can do this,” I whispered to myself. Then stood up and shimmied my panties to the floor. I did a little rock star dance (air guitar and all) and looked into the full body mirror that stood in the corner of the room. I was indeed ready for my photoshoot.
Let’s be real, here. Getting the perfect selfie angle is no easy feat, so imagine getting the perfect angle for the lady bits. Yeah, that’s right, it’s like mission impossible. At one point my left leg started to cramp as I turned and twisted trying to get the lighting just right and the angle juuuuuust perfect. Charlie horse from hell. I wondered if I could call in a stunt double.
At least twenty minutes in, I got into what was a very unnatural position (thank you, all those years of Twister practice!) to snap the first photo of my privates with my Samsung Galaxy. Feeling shy at first, I felt like I needed to offer myself a drink but also didn’t want to wake my relatives as I rummaged through the liquor cabinet, so instead put on my big girl panties (not really, that would be counterproductive now, wouldn’t it?) and Annie Leibovitz’d my genitalia.
Soon enough, I was snapping shots of myself like it was my day job. I tried with flash (for the record, no. Just no.) and without. Different filters. Turned on lamps in the room and moved them around for different lighting. The shots that were being taken were extra…interesting. But like any photo shoot, among the rough shots, was one shiny gem. The one that stood out. The one that seemed to have a beam of light shining down on it from the heavens. That one that sang “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
“Whoa!” I said out loud to no one but myself. “That’s…me!”
I was left breathless by my own body for the first time in my life. Who would have guessed this would be one of the first pictures I’d adore of myself in 38 years of life. This perfect portrait of my pussy.
I’m still not so sure about that profile picture though.
Images via Chronic Gamer Girl/YouTube
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