Why I Stopped Feeling So Threatened By Porn
Porn will be porn.
The exaggerated moans. The fake breasts. The unrealistic scenarios.
It’s standard, mainstream porn in all of its glory.
I’ve written before about how many women are intimidated by porn and how they feel they simply cannot compare to the characters portrayed in mainstream porn with their endless sexual appetites, smooth, gleaming skin, airbrushed bodies, and made-up faces.
Myself included.
My own long-standing battle with porn has actually had everything to do with my personal insecurities and not much to do at all with the over-glamorized porn actresses we see on the screen.
The bouncing balloon breasts, yoga-like sex positions, and otherworldly sexual stamina of porn characters can certainly feel like a daunting phenomenon to compete with — for anyone.
However, I have realized that the only one making me feel like I had to compete with porn stars at all was, in fact, me.
I no longer blame the porn industry for my sexual insecurities.
Does porn help my self-esteem? Nope. Not at all. Is porn solely responsible for my own sexual hang-ups? I think not.
You see, as I’ve grown into an older woman, I’ve realized that porn is going to be porn no matter what. The consumption of porn and the bizarre objectification of women it brings with it is not something I can allow to control me or my sex life anymore.
Am I still jealous of those ‘perfect’ looking women in porn films? Yes, to an extent. I’d be lying if I said I never thought it would be cool to look like that.
However, I know that in reality, those women spend all of their time and plenty of money working hard to look that way even if it’s only for a single shoot, whether it’s through plastic surgery, endless salon visits, excessive tanning, gobs of make-up, or otherwise.
Now in my 40s, I have officially ended my war with my looks. I have a wonderful partner who thinks I’m forever sexy. I’ve reached my goal weight through diet changes and exercise. I’m finally satisfied with my body when I look in the mirror. I’m content with myself. Eureka!
But what does any of that have to do with porn?
Simply that I’ve spent too many of my previous years allowing the grotesque display of super-inflated sexual caricatures exhibited in pornography to erode my own sense of self-esteem. And I’m finally finished with that.
Porn exists whether I feel confident in my own sexuality or not.
If my partner watches porn should I feel less desirable? If my partner and I watch porn together should I be threatened by how the porn actresses look and feel less attractive?
Ultimately, that’s up to me. And I’ve decided that I’m done worrying about porn, the way the women in porn look, the seemingly unattainable sexual escapades portrayed in porn, and everything else that ever bothered me about porn.
Could I watch porn with my partner now without feeling threatened by the busty, energetic sex dolls on the screen? Possibly. I think I’d definitely be better able now to differentiate between my own sexual identity and confidence as opposed to the fantasy that porn ultimately is.
I’m not a fantasy. I’m a real person. With flaws, doubts, and limits. The sooner I accepted those realities about myself, the easier it was to accept the fantasy of porn as something that exists around me.
More from Michelle: Could I Survive In A Sexless Marriage?
