How sending a nude pic to a guy gave me a boost of confidence

I am not your typical “sexy” girl. The fancier I have to get dressed to go to a bar, the less likely I am to go to said bar. I’ve actually had to talk myself out of wearing my Birkenstocks to the bar, and also talk myself into wearing makeup all in the same night.

Do I still feel sexy in my Birkenstocks and flannel shirt? Hell yes I do. Only issue I seem to have is that guys don’t usually go for the girl in Birkenstocks and flannel when there are 458 other girls in the bar all wearing things that girls normally wear to the bar. But any man that tries to get between me and my flannel is a man I do not wish to have in my life. 

You can be a UConn Dad and still be sexy

I have body issues. Just showing my bare legs sends me into a fit of panic, and let’s not even get started on going to the beach in a bikini. Most days I can hardly look at myself in the mirror, which makes it even better when I’m with a guy and he suddenly thinks I would look better without my clothes on.

Several weeks ago, I did what every college student does on an early Saturday morning: tailgate before a football game. Half a bottle of wine and one amazing best friend/wing woman later, I found myself playing flip cup with a new group. This squad was set up across the way from us. It was there, that I met him.

I can neither confirm nor deny that this bottle of Andre was mine

He (who obviously shall not be named) was rather not my type, 9/10 would recommend him to my best friend instead of claiming him for myself. That’s probably why I was attracted to him. Every guy I had been attracted to in the past had fucked me over, so why not try something (or someone) new?

We spent the rest of the tailgate together. I even ditched my friends to spend more time with him (Don’t worry, they pushed me to go.)

I left the football game knowing he was never to be seen again. He was debating whether to take a job in his home state or moving completely across the country, and even I knew where he was going to end up.  

Syracuse wasn’t the only one scoring points that weekend

I spent my Monday regaling the story of him to some different friends of mine. One of my girlfriends brought up an idea I had never thought of. “You should send him some sexy Snapchats!”

Me and sexting went together like peanut butter and cheese. Wonderful on their own, but not a good combination. Sexting just wasn’t… me? I get nervous from second looks by a remotely attractive guy. Could you imagine my anxiety when it comes to sexting? (Let alone a guy I had only met once).

However, something ominous brewed inside of me: why not? What did I have to lose? The worst thing that could happen was he looked at the snap and doesn’t reply. I could still go on with my life, worse things could happen.

First thing you need to know about sexting? You are going to have to take a lot of photos before finding the right now. Maybe it’s my lanky arms or my flapjack ass? Maybe it’s the fact that I have a the sex appeal of a stick? If anyone is able to take a perfect nude on the first try, I highly commend you. 

So after several attempts to finally get a Snapchat that was halfway decent, I finally gathered up the strength to send it. It wasn’t until then that I realized what I had done. I had done what girls continuously chastised men of doing. Had I sunk to the level of Tinder boys who thought they were way more charming than they really were?

I spent the next 11 hours (yes, it took him 11 hours to see the snap) checking my phone every five minutes, anxiously anticipating how he was going to react. This couldn’t be what guys did when they sent dick pics, right?

Long story short, he loved the snap, and even wanted to see what he had to do to get some more. It gave me a boost of confidence to know that he didn’t see my near naked body and go blind instantly like I thought would happen.

I look at my body more times in a day than I count — we all do. You see your body so much, soon all you see are the flaws, the scars, the issues, all of the bad parts. Getting one compliment from a guy suddenly made those flaw disappear. I didn’t see all of the bad I usually saw. I appreciated my noodle arms, and my flat chest that could rival a 12 year old. Hearing from someone else how good I looked made me start to look at myself as if I saw how good I looked.

I know what you’re thinking, you shouldn’t rely on the approval of men to feel good about your body. What I’m saying is to just try it once, just once, and try to tell me it doesn’t feel good to see a guy completely fawn over you when you decide to show him what’s going on under that very expensive bra of yours.