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I hate taking nudes, so I took one in each city I travelled to overseas

WORDS BY LAURA ROSCIOLI

“The previous caution and fear had been replaced with excitement.”

This article contains nudity.

I’ve never liked taking naked photos of myself for other people. I think it started in high school when it became normal practice for a boy to at some point ask to see your boobs.

This icky feeling would arise in me that stopped me in my tracks. It was the same feeling I’d get when someone offered me a drink at a party – like I wanted to do it, but something stopped me. It was probably fear.


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Whether instilled in me by parents and teachers, or through actual representation by my peers, it was like I expected something bad to happen – because I was told it would and often did.

When it came to photos of my naked body landing in the hands of others, I was fearful of two main outcomes: they’d not like what they see and immediately lose interest or they would show their friends and worse, leak it to the entire school and everyone else wouldn’t like what they saw either.

Both options felt entirely plausible. I actually don’t think I was ever privy to a situation where a girl sent naked photos to a boy she thought would keep them to himself that ever actually materialised in that way. 

The most extreme example – and one that haunted me throughout my high school years and beyond – was this girl I knew who was older than me. She was considered a ‘cool’ girl. She had an ideal body type, got over 500 likes on her Facebook profile pictures, a big house with a designer pool and parents who were cool enough to let her throw parties at it. In high school society, she came in at the very top.

That was until one day, when a guy she had a crush on secretly recorded her nude. I don’t know the exact turn of events – who does, in high school? – but I do know that within days, every teenager in the whole of my local high school party society had seen it.

And the comments? You can probably imagine. People found things to fault. The fact that she didn’t have a perfectly hair-free pubic area, the shape of her thighs, the size of her nipples… I don’t remember hearing one positive comment. And this was a girl who had it ‘all’ on the surface.

I remember feeling sick at the thought of being in her position. I also remember as she cried with the embarrassment of the betrayal and the criticism that had come out of it. I didn’t know how to comfort her because I saw no faults but those of others.

I saw her courage to be intimate and vulnerable and I saw how that confidence had repaid her. I couldn’t even find words to describe the cruelty of the boys and the gossipers and I remember thinking I’d be absolutely ruined if that ever happened to me.

I think that experience imprinted itself on me as a warning more than I’d ever acknowledged because I’ve maintained this stance on naked photos – I just don’t take them to send to other people. I’ve found ways to celebrate my naked body through photos online, but only when my name and words are attached to them.

I often like taking photos of myself in sexy lingerie, on days when I’m feeling heavy and hormonal and sharing them on social media with my feelings attached. This particular exercise feels freeing to me. I like what I see, even when my body isn’t feeling its best, and I think that’s an important message to convey to others and also to myself. 

In the same vein, I like sharing photos of body parts I might not give as much love to as I should, due to societal ideals. Parts like cellulite, hip fat, pubic hair etc – I find comfort and freedom in expressing how I feel about these parts of my body, and the visual element is a part of that expression. 

If you google my name, you’ll find no shortage of photos of me in my lingerie or up close parts of my naked body aside text that talks about embracing our bodies in all of their ever-changing forms. But what you won’t find? A fully naked photo of me that’s been leaked by someone I sent it to. 

Recently, I decided I wanted to change that (my stance on taking nudes, and not having my photos leaked). I’ve been dating my now-boyfriend for almost a year and I’ve never felt so sexually fulfilled and safe. There’s something about our sex life that feels different to relationships I’ve had before. It doesn’t feel like an effort, like I need to get myself in the right mindset to be open and generous. It doesn’t feel hard to give, because I don’t feel like he needs anything from me.

It’s a difficult feeling to put into words, but often in relationships with men, I’ve felt that they’ve needed to have sex with me for reasons outside wanting to simply be intimate and connect (and get off). There have been things wound up in their sexual needs – like validation – that have made me feel guarded and protective of my vulnerability. 

But in this relationship, I feel open. I feel safe and eager to give. I feel turned on without even having to think about it. So naturally, when I was set to jet off to the UK and Europe without my boyfriend for a month, it felt like a great time to get into sending nudes. 

London, part one

I started slow, with a leotard on. I had nothing on underneath and you could see my nipples through the sheer zebra stripes, so it felt like a good first step to get over the initial fear. I took a few up close and then settled on a self-timer set-up.

I leaned into the pout because it felt fitting with the outfit. I felt cute and sexy and sent it to my boyfriend as a disappearing message on Instagram because it seemed the safest – just in case I looked back later and decided I didn’t like the lighting or something. He loved it. He said something like “You’re so sexy are you even real”. We were off to a good start.

Lyon, France

I had a bit of a rough start to Lyon. My friend who was supposed to come with me couldn’t because her passport was close to expiring. So I was unexpectedly alone in Lyon. Then, late at night, the door of my Airbnb wouldn’t open. I was overwhelmed and felt alone.

But once I settled into being by myself, I started to feel the sexiest I had in months. I decided to take myself to Lyon’s Museum of Fine Arts on the second day, which turned out to be the sexiest decision I could’ve made. I was surrounded by paintings and statues of predominantly naked women, most of them curvy and delicious, in all kinds of positions. I went home, my head spinning with inspiration and a few wines in my tummy. 

I made a whole scene out of it this time around. I popped on some Melody Gardot (French jazz vibes), poured myself another glass of wine and danced around in the nude taking sexy photos of myself at all angles. I was starting to enjoy this. I went with a slightly more artsy black and white photo by the window because it felt the most French. 

Paris, France

My days in Paris were a whirlwind and I’d come home exhausted by extreme amounts of beauty and butter each day. One of those days, I had plans at night, so I came home to prepare with a mini bottle of champagne. I had a warm shower and blow-dried my hair, which looked so nice I thought I’d better take some photos. These turned out to be sultry AF.

Savona, Italy

Things got a little dirty in Italy. Italy always makes me feel sexy because it makes me feel like I can be completely myself. I’m not worried about how I look on the outside in Italy, and this freedom made me feel fully equipped to take sexy naked photos.

One night, I got drunk on red wine and couldn’t quite find the right angle… until I noticed the mirror on the wardrobe door. I turned my selfie camera on and took a photo close up of my face, with the reflection of my butt in the mirror behind me. I was impressed with my creativity and confidence. 

London, part two

I could tell that I was getting comfortable when I was back in London because my last photo was a simple tousled bed shot. I woke up feeling very well-rested and puffy but in a sexy just-woke-up kind of way, and I snapped a photo I loved within minutes. It probably also helped that I’d been to a kink/sex club the night before and had been surrounded by naked bodies doing all kinds of things in beautifully shameless ways. 

I was pleased that I felt more content taking naked photos to send to someone, and that the previous caution and fear had been replaced with excitement. Being able to still turn your partner on when you’re not physically in front of them is a really fun and satisfying feeling. 

I think the key in all this – aside from healing from past trauma – is to explore things like this with people that make you feel safe. I still think that if someone was to ask me for a photo of my boobs (aside from my boyfriend) I’d get that icky feeling. But I welcome it because that gut instinct is what has kept me (and my body) safe all this time. 

For advice on safely taking and sending nudes, try this.

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