Sexy Time

Well, it’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life! Hello everybody. I’m Carla Baudrons, and I’m OK. I sleep sometimes and I work all day. Tonight I made pizza, which I’m about to enjoy, but first I thought I would get this post started and see if any magic happens.

I went to therapy this morning. She’s a new therapist, her name is Julie and her practice name is “Coast to Coast,” which I have a feeling she’s never listened to. She’s a no-nonsense type. I have a hard time imagining what it would look like if she smiled. But she delivers good, brief advice and asks the right questions. Today we talked about things that I can do to help me get back into alignment with who I really am. I struggle with this dAiLy. I’m constantly having this feeling like I’m drifting into sleep and snapping myself awake––but instead of sleep, it’s “What is Expected of Me.” I blame a lot of things, but regardless of why it happens, I do tend to auto-pilot onto the road most-traveled, and the longer I’m on that path, the harder it is to get off it.

What is expected of me? Well, I’ll tell you, I’m expected––by different ones of you, and sometimes all of you, to be:

1. The hardest worker,
2. Accessible and welcoming always,
3. The cook,
4. Modest, acquiescing, or embarrassed at any given time,
5. Argumentative and stubborn,
6. A big eater,
7. “The black sheep,” but just by a hair––nothing to warrant attention,
8. Simple (uneducated),
9. Bad with money, and
10. An artist.

I just watched/listened to a Ted Talk (because that’s literally part of my job now) that posited this idea that––in the same way that our physical cells turn over every few weeks or whatever––our psychic selves are constantly being reborn. It rung so true to me. I am layers, yes, but those past layers are actually dead. They’re not the layers that define me as I am today.

I was raised to believe in hard work, and pushing yourself past what you thought you could do. And I appreciate that, honestly. But there comes a point where pushing yourself causes damage! I’ve learned a lot from all of the various jobs that I’ve had, and I won’t say it was bad for my poor ego, but now I find myself in a very different place than I was even two years ago. I spent a year not working (because chemo and surgery and shit), and it was so, so, so… soooo good for me. If work defines you, bless you––I get it. But I’m really grateful to not be under that weight anymore. Work is supposed to make the rest of your life enjoyable! Not break your back or turn you into a zombie when you get off!

Anyway, I’m over it. Fuck hard work. Work is hard enough! I say, work as hard as the job requires (within reason) and your body/mind is able. No more. Killing yourself for the man only makes the man forget you a sooner.

Am I going down the list of ways I’m expected to be, is that what this blog is turning into?… do I want to do that? Am I expected to? Hmm. Well, I don’t really feel like it right now. Suffice it to say, I’m really tired of being sized up and energetically directed to do/be certain ways. Because that’s totally what happens! Mark my words, in 1,000 years they’re going to have figured out a way to actually see energy. Oh what a day that will be. Until then, you’ll just have to take my word for it––people exchange, offer, accept, STEAL, hoard, and manipulate energy, literally all the time. And that’s what I was born into––a life where other people are energetically in control of me.

It’s been hard to extract myself from, I gotta tell ya. I still have mini panic episodes multiple times a day, because I’m so unsteady ON MY OWN. When I have an authority figure giving me the rules and tools for how to do life, I’m pretty-well fine! As long as I’m following the energetic rules imposed on me, and “pleasing” whoever is giving them to me… I’m okay, I can breathe. But the second I have the thought, “I don’t want to do that,” I’m unmoored! Which can be a great feeling if you have a stable ego, but if your ego depends on pleasing certain people––wow! Talk about an awful feeling!

Anyway, my therapist this morning asked me what things I could do that might help me regain a sense of self, and a ripe thought came to mind…

I used to dress up with my friends and do photo shoots. It was a fun, ego-boosting exercise in loving myself (and my friends!). When I got my first 35mm camera, I dressed up and had my younger siblings take pictures of me (suckas!), and when smart phones came out, I was taking selfies immediately. Because 1) It’s FUN, and 2) I like to imagine the hot blurry photos of me Ken Burns-ing it through an exhilarating episode of “Unsolved Mysteries.”

Just kidding? 🤔 Whatever it doesn’t matter. I used to like photo shoots involving myself, as well as friends. It was great. Until I was kicked out of the garden and realized I was NAKed OMG!! ––is what I thought happened. In actuality, what happened was that I started dating someone who was deeply insecure––about his intellect, his body, and how people perceived him. And that insecurity needed approval from me, and the only way I knew how to approve of somebody was to agree with them, so I agreed with him! And decided that selfies were stupid, and a photo was only worth admiring if it was truly candid (can you guess which kind of porn he watched?).

And I kept that belief for years upon years upon years. So long, in fact, that it ground its own neural highway, so that now––whenever I take a picture of myself, I automatically feel embarrassed! Isn’t that so sad? I’m not saying I’m the most beautiful person in the world, but I am A PERSON, and therefore unique, and therefore worth a second look if you ask me!! Ugh, I’m so mad at him rn… 😤

But back to my story: so I used to like doing selfie/friend shoots. AND, I don’t know if you’re aware, but I recently had post-mastectomy breast reconstruction, and I am pROUd as a goddamn PEACOck of my Frankenstein boobie. She is beautiful, she is warm, she is perfect, and I kinda want everybody to meet her. are you guessing where this is headed?

I’m going to do a boudoir photo shoot! I don’t know how much it’s going to cost, but I’m hoping I can get a cancer discount, and maybe trade some art. But I’m gonna do it! Because A) I am beautiful, even with this extra menopause weight, B) I’m worth looking at twice, and C) I want to show off my new girlie! So if you know of any amazing boudoir photographers, lmk. I’m willing to travel a little bit, but not too far.

And this has been a great evening of blogging thank you very much for coming along. I know I say this all the time, but I really do want to start blogging more regularly, and filtering myself less. So hopefully I will be sharing with you again very soon. Until then!

3 thoughts on “Sexy Time”

  1. This was a wonderful read! And a journey! I gasped with surprise and delight when I got to the end. I have no leads, but looking forward to hearing more.

  2. Those expectations seem heavy. FWIW there are people out there who don’t expect any of that.

    I read the beginning of a book awhile ago about self portraits of women artists and the one takeaway I had was that women have been shamed for documenting themselves for centuries but it’s a very powerful thing to be able to document yourself from your own perspective and decide who gets to see it. So hell yeah to selfies and fuck that guy.

If you've got something to say, say it..

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s