I haunt Twitter for an embarrassing amount of time that could be better spent writing. Yesterday, a tweet came up about women asking if something makes them look fat. This tweet cut me. I felt the pain of the lady asking the question, since I’ve been fat my whole life. Then, another tweet popped up warning “FuckBoys” that women came in all varieties: older, grayer, larger, and more racially mixed then the perceived “perfect” women, and to beware. This made me ponder past experiences with body issues.
Our figure model came in a bit early for the drawing session. We, as college art students, were accustomed to young lithe fellow students as models. Today, our comfort zone was drastically challenged. Magda stayed booked up with figure modelling appointments at the various college art departments in town, as well as with private sessions. She got paid double the going rate over other models. We were expecting a supermodel, and we got one. Magda, at the time, was in her early 50’s, and weighed every ounce of 400 pounds. She was fabulous! Magda held poses, chatted and flirted during the session. This woman exuded a ripe sexuality impossible to achieve under the age of 35. She was the first woman I encountered that truly had no fucks to give about anyone’s opinion. She knew her own worth.
Decades later, I’m at a swinger party held at a strip club rented for the occasion. At that point, I was 275 pounds and felt like a tank. Fate must have known I needed a lesson that night. In the club there were women of all sizes, shapes, and ages. Women were walking around buck ass naked, breasts hanging, scars showing, looking glorious. A female friend who was in her early 50’s worked the poll like a pro. She was older, but still had a banging body. All females that night were sexy, because they knew, deep down, that they really were.
As I decided to become an escort, I believed that I wouldn’t get any calls. Mid 30’s women in the 240 pound range just weren’t sex workers in my mind. Until I was proven wrong. The calls kept coming in, more than I ever cared to fill. This made me feel truly sexy, since wealthy men who could get laid for free paid me well for my services.
The opinion of the media and culture that we live in tries to sell us the bullshit concept that women have an expiration date. The idea that if you are over 40 and not physically perfect, you are invisible. Horseshit! I refuse to believe this, or obey it. My hair is shaved on three sides and hot pink on top. My weight isn’t where I want it, but it isn’t where it was. Believe it, you will ALWAYS see me approach. I refuse to be invisible!