Today’s guest blogger Hannah – @fionchadd – is going to talk to you about posing naked, something that I’ve been trying – and failing – to do for a very very long time. Hannah posed completely naked for photographer Sonny Malhotra, as part of A Disappearing Exhibition, which opens in London on the 18th January. The idea is that people who come and visit can take one of the photos away with them. It’s a really awesome idea – check it out at the links above.

Alongside the exhibition, Hannah offered me a guest blog about the experience of posing naked. As someone who has really struggled with nudity and body image in the past, I found her post incredibly moving – and I can see myself in a lot of it. The world conspires to make body confidence an increasingly difficult thing to achieve, and I’m really grateful to Hannah for writing so honestly and movingly about her photoshoot.

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If I’m certain of anything about myself it’s this: I am a fucking nightmare. Anxiety means I am constantly examining every detail to see what might be right and wrong with my life. No – scratch that – every detail of what might be wrong. What’s right gets dumped on the ‘finished’ pile, and rarely given more time than a cursory ‘hooray’ before it’s time to move onto the next thing. Leaving my brain free to focus on unpaid bills, people I may have offended, and a mountain of relationship insecurity on the side.

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GOTN is on holiday until next week. In her absence, please enjoy this poem which she started writing in a workshop ages ago, then added some bits to, then read at the SheVibe bawdy poetry slam during The Woodhull Sexual Freedom Summit.

As with everything Woodhull-related, it would not exist without Doxy, who not only make my favourite ever sex toy, they also sponsored me to go, so please show them lots of love. I suggest following them on twitter and .@-ing them with a message of intense affection such as ‘you make my life complete’ or ‘I cannot imagine a future without you.’ If enough of you do it then it will simultaneously delight and confuse the hell out of them.

UPDATE: the wonderful @ninjasexology has added some new verses to the poem – in italics below and they’re AMAZING. You should check out her wonderful blog, where she showcases her collection of utterly incredible, often very girthy, and always imaginative dildos.

If you’re better at titles than GOTN is, feel free to suggest one in the comments.

xxx

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Bonus guest blog today! Sarah Beilfuss is one of the co-founders of Scarlet Ladies Talk, running regular events aimed at normalising the conversation around female sexuality. Last month other co-founder Jannette wrote a gorgeous post about learning to love her breasts, and this guest post tells a similar personal story about learning to enjoy your body and your sexuality. It’s awesome.

This blog is part of a sponsored series by Scarlet Ladies Talk, so if you like it please go and check out their website  and sign up for their newsletter. They run loads of really cool events, the next one of which, on 29th July, includes live sensual massage. They’ve also just launched a free ebook – the Scarlet Ladies Guide To Solo Sex, which collates tips from experts on different masturbation techniques. Or, as the Scarlet Ladies put it, “how to wank yourself into heaven.”

Meanwhile, enjoy this gorgeous guest blog.

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Sometimes I want to arouse you. Sometimes I want to rant at you. I always want to entertain you. But occasionally I want to disgust you.

Partly because I think it’s important to highlight the fucking weird things we all do sometimes, because it makes everyone else feel a bit less weird about themselves. Partly because we’re constantly – constantly – told that experimenting with our bodies or enjoying them is dirty and bad and wrong (especially if we’re women).

But mostly because so much of what we think about sex is based on knee-jerk reactions, and when our knee-jerk reaction is one of disgust it’s worth examining why we feel disgusted. Is there a rational reason for it? Or is it, like that dildo made from human ashes, just something we condemn because our gut tells us we should?

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