What I like about you

Being in a relationship can be a great boost to your ego… or it can be hell on it, especially if you’ve dated some of the guys I have (what do you mean, change the way I walk so it’ll be sexier?).

The neat thing about being naked around someone new is finding out what it is they like about your body or your personality, because after all, it’s different for everyone.

What they like about it, not your body or personality, that is.

Being regarded as such by different people forces you to look at your body and yourself in a different light. This guy likes my butt, that guy thinks I’m cute, this one loves the fact that I wear glasses, that one loves my freckles, the other thinks I’m smart… all of this adds up to a pretty favourable picture of yourself, don’t you think?

The trick is to date either one guy or girl who sees you in an incredibly flattering light, such that they make you feel terrific about yourself and love every single aspect of you… or date a whole bunch of people that love little individual things about you so you get a good, all around image of yourself.

I find that my favourites about guys have changed over the years. It used to be that I went for what I called “the high school boy” body type; tall, scrawny, bare on the chest. Then I matured a little, and so did my tastes. Instead of the chest being my favourite part of the guy’s body, I got into stomachs (with a little help from someone that had a nice one, if I remember correctly). At the same time, I grew to like guys that were filled out more, and a little on the fuzzy side; guys that had the arms to hold me and the expanse of chest against which I could comfortably lay my head.

Now, I’m even older (and no less wiser, some would say), and what I like in a guy is a bit of furriness, and I’m all about the stomachs. It’s weird, but I really like a furry stomach. I used to love the treasure trail, and it certainly retains its charms for me, but I find the furry stomach fun to rub and pat; it’s usually quite soft, and not too many guys object to having their stomachs rubbed.

It’s this type of behaviour that I like to think might help out someone’s self-confidence. I mean, if I were a guy, I might be a little self-conscious about the fact that I had a hairy stomach, or a stomach that wasn’t perfectly flat (let’s face it, as a girl I’m already super-insecure about the second. I don’t mind my hairy stomach so much), so having someone who obviously loved it might make me feel better about it, and maybe even take a little pride in it. “Hey, look at me!” I’d say, strutting about in a little belly tee or crop top, “I have a hairy stomach! Love the hairy stomach! Pat it! Rub it!” And the girls would flock to me. Either that, or throw things at me. Hrm.

Now, being as rounded as I am (yes, I roll places, rather than walk. It’s really rather disgusting), I am constantly amazed when I get told I’m sexy or whatnot. I figure that these people are all crazy, but it takes all kinds and there’s no accounting for taste. Or whatever. Yet, hearing that I’m sexy – or even getting to see or feel proof that someone finds me sexy – does help boost my confidence and my ego. I feel better about my body, even if I haven’t perfectly perfumed, shaved and exercised it in the last ten minutes before it’s being regarded and appreciated.

And it doesn’t take having a steady boyfriend, girlfriend, or even sex partner to feel good about yourself in this manner. Sometimes all it takes is a smile or a wink from someone on the street or the bus to make you say, “Hey, I’m good-looking!” I know, it’s not very politically correct or feministally good of me to say that, but… I’m only human. I like to be found attractive once in awhile, too.

So, until the next time I get winked at on the street, I’m off to go rub some furry bellies to make some people feel better about themselves.


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