Belle is Back!

Open a bottle of the bubbly and pass around the cupcakes—my self-imposed hiatus is over!

I’ve been offline just under four weeks, but it feels like I’ve been away four months.

I needed the time to reflect, refocus, read, and just relax for awhile.

I reflected on the direction I want to take my blog and my writing, along with how I plan to get there. I refocused both my writing theme and my design elements. I read many many new blogs and finally decided on a few new ones to follow. I relaxed: I regularly went to bed by 11pm, I caught up on Pretty Little Liars (although now I’m behind again), I spent less time fighting on Jezebel, I enjoyed some spa & salon services, I continued the long but rewarding process of turning my apartment into a home, and I cuddled/enjoyed sexi time with Beau.

I usually watch it on Hulu.

I talked about life changes and blog changes in my first post of 2013, but I didn’t realize at the time how much I needed to step away from my blog in order to change it. Taking it offline for a few weeks has been a great chance to de-stress and tackle all my scattered ideas, one at a time, without worrying about updating regularly while I figured things out.

In summary form, these are all the exciting changes taking place at Finding My Virginity!

Finding My Virginity

The most obvious change is my new blog title and my own domain name! Inspired by Bonnie, I registered my own domain name within a few days of going offline. I spent hours and hours contemplating different titles and talking my favorites over with Beau. I wanted to move away from Confessions of a Virgin for a few reasons. One, it’s the same title as an adult film. Uhhh, not exactly what I want associated with my blog. Two, it’s very similar to another virginity blog on the market, which I swear I did not discover til after I’d already started my blog. Three, my writing has evolved beyond a confessional of all my “impure” thoughts and activities. So why “Finding My Virginity”? Stay tuned for a more detailed post!

Diverse Writing

Blog posts will definitely include more topics. Like decorating my apartment. And juggling two jobs. Working through my messy relationship with my twin brother. Reminiscing about my years in France. Reflecting on my religious beliefs. Hopefully I will be able to feature more guest posts(I have one submission that will be up soon—the writer has been very patient with me). Don’t worry, I will also resume my various blog series on online dating, virgin myths, boobs, consent, and more.

The Church of the Jacobins in Toulouse

Selling Out

I’m a sellout. There. I admitted it. It’s bad enough I participated in a giveaway that one time, but now I’ve bought an ad on Jessica Lynn Writes. And. I’m considering buying ads on a few other blogs. I also paid Natalie of 2317 Studio for my blog design. I originally contacted her to help me with a single CSS question that I thought would be very simple, we agreed upon a price for it, and then she found out it was not a simple CSS answer. Luckily, she already had this blog template in a nice gray hue similar to my old style, and she offered to customize it for me instead. I love what Natalie did, and the best part, I could still tweak a few things on my own! Aka I made many of the fonts pink…

Also, I have a new button. Please grab it!!! If you have my old button, please please please switch out with my new one! Let me know if you’re interested in swapping buttons. (That sounds really dirty).

<a href="http://www.findingmyvirginity.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" alt="Finding My Virginity" src="http://i1167.photobucket.com/albums/q633/belle_vierge/ffa0b64a-44e9-4daa-a6ca-aaaf07f70431.jpg" /></a>

As always, I’m on twitter, and you should definitely follow me @belle_vierge there. I tweet obsessively, probably because it’s easier to write out 140 characters than 650+ words.

I realize this was not the most exciting of posts, but I promise to elaborate on everything in a fun, exciting way soon! This was just an introduction to all the awesome changes happening with Belle.

It’s good to be back. ♥

You have read this article blog readers / BOOBS / consent / family / feminism / France / friends / guest post / JCP / Mythbusters: Virgin Edition / online dating / Pretty Little Liars / real life / religion / television / Toulouse / twin brother with the title France. You can bookmark this page URL https://myclosetnadinesh.blogspot.com/2013/03/belle-is-back.html. Thanks!

My Boobs Have Nothing to Do with You

According to twitter, clearly the world’s authority on everything ever, today is Cleavage Appreciation Day. Obviously some women have gotten really into it, tweeting shots of their cleavage (or even just their bra-clad boobs), with the hashtag #CleavageAppreciationDay. Other women are pretty against it, and they’re calling out basically all women who show cleavage ever as 1) lacking self-respect 2) being desperate for attention and/or 3) acting slutty. Some men are all “Woo, boobs!” and some men are all, “How darest these harlots cause me to have sinful thoughts?”

This is a pretty clear example of a larger debate in American society. Hell, to an extent, it’s an example of a lifelong issue within Christianity. Women are either the Virgin or the Whore, and we are criticized heavily regardless of our choice.

But I’ve already discussed the prude/slut dichotomy. This post is about boobs, a companion piece of sorts to my previous rant on boob-shaming. If I write this correctly, I will somehow tie together my problem with the Church’s view on modesty, my support of female sexuality, rape culture, and body autonomy. All with pictures of my cleavage and pissed off indignation that some people have the audacity to think they know anything about me based on my aforementioned cleavage. 

Age 19, Delta Nu* Initiation Banquet. An outfit heavily criticized for showing "too much" cleavage.

I am not the first person to criticize “Modest is Hottest” and how the Church objectifies women under the guise of keeping men from sinful temptation. Nor will I be the last. Other people have said everything I feel already, with more eloquence. So for now, I’m just going to summarize my personal experiences and feelings on it.

The first time I ever really felt like an object… The first time I ever felt like my body was more important than my personality… The firstsecond time I ever felt ashamed of my breasts… The first time I ever felt like maybe sin was completely impossible to stop…

Was when I hit puberty later than most teenage girls, and developed large breasts that kept growing & growing…

And some “well-meaning” individuals… Some hypocritical individuals… My controlling twin brother…

All thought it was their place to criticize my dress for its lack of modesty and to point out how distracting my newly-large breasts were to teenage boys.

Just for the record, my personal style didn’t change all that much from when I was 14 to when I was 18. I started wearing ribbed tank tops when I was 15, a staple I still wear all summer long. I wore the same kinds of clothes with an A-cup as I did with a B-cup, and a C-cup, and a D-cup, and later on, a DD-cup, just in bigger sizes. My activities didn’t change—I still danced, and starred in community theatre, and outperformed most of my classmates academically, and attended church every week, and refused to drink or smoke, and read books all the time, and crushed on the same guy I’d liked since the 8^th grade.

I don’t know which teenage boys “stumbled in their walk” because I developed large breasts, but I can assure you, I received the same lack of attention from guys that I had always received. I continued to be everyone’s friend and no one’s romantic interest.

But thanks to all these so-called Christians, I felt objectified. Guess what. I felt that way because they were objectifying me.

But hey, at least the Church has its reasons for controlling anything sexual. The Church believes that premarital sex is a sin (I don’t), and obviously, many Christians are thus going to advocate against all things sexy.

What I don’t understand are the men and women who are happily engaging in premarital sexual activity but lambasting women as sluts. 

Age 21, at a bar during spring break. I had kissed a grand total of four men at this point, but... My boobs are bigger than yours. Does that make me a slut?

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Haven’t we been over this? A woman who reveals more skin than you arbitrarily find appropriate is NOT A SLUT. In fact, a slut is not a real thing. A slut is a word we throw at women who have made choices we don’t like.

Age 22, at the debutante ball, in a floor-length gown. This would have been totally modest during some time periods--my ankles were covered! Hello, arbitrary standard of skin.

Hey, twitter, how would y’all feel if I started calling any and all of you who have had more than one sexual partner a bunch of SLUTS?

You’d be pissed off. I just arbitrarily decided on a standard that deviates from my choices, and I decided that standard equals SLUT.

By calling a woman a slut based on her clothes, you are doing two things. 1) You are equating clothing with sexual choices 2) You are saying women don’t have sexual choices.

So stop that.

Now.

Do I really need to spell out how this all contributes to rape culture? Yes? Fine, then. By holding women to a certain standard of dress and/or sexual freedom, you are saying that any woman who deviates from that standard is thus culpable for her rape.

Age 22, pre-gaming a night out in Paris. Guess what. I wore short-shorts, and sexy red heels, and a low-cut top, and make-up, and no one sexually assaulted me!

My last point is perhaps the most difficult to articulate, mainly because I see both sides of the issue.

On the one hand, the media constantly objectifies women and treats them as sexual beings just ready for a man to enjoy at his leisure. On this hand, girls and women constantly receive the message that to matter, they must be sexy. On this same hand, some women will dress in an intentionally provocative way because they equate self-worth with attention from men.

ON THE OTHER HAND. Not all women have been completely brainwashed by our culture’s obsession with sex. Some of us (MOI) love our bodies. Some of us (MOI) love our boobs. Some of us have enough self-confidenceto spare, and our self-confidence stems from our personalities, NOT our bodies. (Again, that would be MOI).

I love my body (when it’s healthy), at all sizes. I love my brains. I love my sense of humor. I love my passion for gender equality. I love my legs. I love my French-inspired fashion (I wear a lot of black, white, and gray). I love my boobs. I love my friends. I love how I’m (slowly) decorating my apartment. I love my job. I love my boyfriend.

When I’m getting dressed in the morning, I don’t have the single thought “How can I be sexually attractive to men?” but rather “How can this outfit reflect everything I love about my life?”

So I take offense at the implication that just because I’m rocking some hot cleavage, I lack self-respect.

I know this is hard to believe, but my boobs have nothing to do with you. My cleavage is not on display for you. Your opinion of my boobs is irrelevant. 

All right, readers. I want to hear from y'all. How do you feel about boobs and cleavage?

*Totally my fake sorority.

You have read this article advice / beauty / blog readers / BOOBS / cleavage / consent / feminism / France / friends / prude / rape / sexuality / slut / stereotypes / twin brother / victim-blaming with the title France. You can bookmark this page URL https://myclosetnadinesh.blogspot.com/2013/01/my-boobs-have-nothing-to-do-with-you.html. Thanks!

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly: I'm a Size 2

The Good: Saturday I start training for my new part-time job as the “Front Desk Specialist” at the JC Penney salon near where I work my full-time job. The extra money from working 15 hours a week will be nice, but I’m mostly excited about the health care benefits. I’m still on my parents’ insurance, but I know I cost them a lot of money. Plus, since I no longer live in the South, I’m out-of-network. Getting my own health insurance will be life-changing.

Of course, dress will be a little different than my current job, where I show up in jeans and a hoodie most days. For my new job, dress code is business casual, in a black, white, and gray color scheme. This would have been a problem for me during my pre-French days, but my current winter wardrobe is pretty dark after absorbing Parisian fashion. I have several cute tops that will all be suitable.

The Bad: However, the only appropriate bottoms I own are two identical black pencil skirts. A pair of nice black slacks was definitely in order. Thus tonight my best friend and former roommate/co-intern, Lauren, and I hit up The Loft, a store we both adore. We had both received an email this week announcing 60% off sale items and 30% off new arrivals. Perfect!

Their petites section had two different styles of slacks. I tried them both on, and Lauren & I agreed one was better than the other. I purchased them along with three black/white/gray tops that were all on sale. I dropped $100 on the whole purchase, which isn’t too bad considering I bought only quality work clothes, but isn't great when you're trying to save money.

The Ugly: I’m a size 2. For the first time since I was 16.

I’m a size 2 because I still haven’t gained back the weightI lost in November. I’m a size 2 because I was sick. I’m a size 2 because I might still be sick.

I know it’s hard to believe, especially for my readers struggling with weight loss, but being unable to gain weight is terrifying. It is worse than trying to lose weight. I should know. Past treatment for Crohn’s has caused me to gain weight, and I hated the struggle of working out & eating well just to maintain an “average” body. But it was never as bad as trying to gain weight.

I can’t even feel vain about being skinny. I lost my ass! It was never a big booty, but it was always nice and proportional to the rest of my curves. It’s almost flat now. My boobs are less full too, although, let’s be honest, they are still the envy of women everywhere and the fantasy of many men.

Please, dear God, let me gain 5 lbs. Please, dear God, let me be healthy again. I can’t be sick again.

I just can’t.

You have read this article best friend: Lauren / BOOBS / butt / Crohn's / France / JCP / real life with the title France. You can bookmark this page URL https://myclosetnadinesh.blogspot.com/2013/01/the-good-bad-and-ugly-i-size-2.html. Thanks!

Dressing Like a Slut

Don't you just hate it when women wear cute, figure-flattering outfits and then have the audacity to suggest men should treat them with respect?

I mean, hello! If a woman doesn't want men staring at her tits or grabbing her ass, then she should cover up! Amirite?!

If you're new to my blog, imagine those two comments written in your favorite sarcasm font. I've written about slut-shaming, sexual assault, and boob-shaming before, so I'm hardly about to act all high and mighty about what women wear.

Too bad the same can't be said for twitter.

Imagine my surprise last week when my twitter friend Michelle retweeted this.

I found it incredibly offensive, but I try and initially use logic when pointing that out, instead of immediately getting pissed. (Whoever the hell @dj_grimes13 is, he has since deleted all his replies to my tweets, so I can only show what I tweeted at him and Michelle).

Y'all. My clothes are slutty when a guy is trying to control my life and/or make me hate myself, or when a girl wishes she had my boobs. Seriously. 

I just want to apologize to Tina Fey, who is one of the funniest, smartest, sexiest women in TV and film. Despite twitter's overall obsession with all things Mean Girls, Tina's thesis apparently didn't sink in.

Like I said, I can only post my replies because @dj_grimes13 deleted all his tweets to me. Then he blocked me. Real mature, misogynist! And Michelle basically just told me I was overreacting. I guess she's never been sexually harassed on a regular basis or sexually assaulted within an environment of her sexual harassment being condoned by everyone? 

And I guess she doesn't want to see tweets about it because she then unfollowed me. After following me for about a year. So she's now my ex-twitter-friend. Except I still follow her because I still like most of her tweets. Just not the slut-shaming ones.

Anyway, go to the bottom and read your way up. Tweets are bottom to top, oldest to newest.

Rape culture is one of those feminist buzzwords that not everyone understands. From wikipedia:

Within feminism, rape culture is a concept used 

to describe a culture in which rape and sexual 

violence are common and in which prevalent 

attitudes, norms, practices, and media normalize, 

excuse, tolerate, or even condone rape.

I know it was "just" a joke, but when does a joke become a rape defense?

"You can't dress like a slut and want to be treated like a princess." 

"Respected ladies don't get raped." / "The act of the rapist is made easy because it would be easy to remove the half-cloth worn by the women." / Don't dress like a slut or a whore (or you might get sexually assaulted). / "When you see some of the 13 year old young ladies strutting their stuff as they walk through the mall there is only one word of description, Jail Bait."

Not so funny, is it.

When I point out slut-shaming and double standards and misogyny, it's not because I don't have a sense of humor. It's because I have seen firsthand how sexist "jokes" can cause irreparable harm to young women.

Young women like me.

In middle school and high school, I was surrounded by boys calling girls sluts, and everyone laughing. Not all girls were called sluts--only girls who had outgrown their training bras or who had done more than kiss their boyfriends.
 
So when a boy sexually assaulted me, and I didn't stop him, I thought it was my fault.

I thought if I told anyone, I would be called a slut.

I was sexually assaulted three more times as an adult, these times all in France.

I didn't tell anyone about any of this until last spring, when I finally blogged about it here, sobbing the entire time I wrote about it.
 
Because I was surrounded by people who thought women just lied about it for attention, I felt like I couldn't ever talk about it without being accused of lying.

Because I was surrounded by people who found it perfectly appropriate to judge me for having large breasts, I felt like I couldn't even talk about it without being blamed for enticing sexual assault with my choice of clothing.

So when you tell me that if I dress like a slut, I can't be treated like a princess, you're telling me that every time someone violated my body, it was my fault.

Fuck you.

You have read this article BOOBS / consent / feminism / France / rape / slut / victim-blaming with the title France. You can bookmark this page URL https://myclosetnadinesh.blogspot.com/2013/01/dressing-like-slut.html. Thanks!