Five attractive female butts are staring at me from my computer screen.
I’m looking at the photos we’re going to use to rebrand this very website and also the Unintentionally Celibate book cover. The concept is simple, several butts in sexy undies and one in granny panties with the UC tagline, “Granny Panties won’t get you laid. Ever.”
The photos look amazing, and quite frankly, I had no idea that I knew people with such amazing butts. (like serioussssssllly).
I LOVE the concept, but despite all that, I’m having some real emotional turmoil.
I can’t stop thinking, “Will this seal my fate?”
Will I forever be stuck in the realm of humor, granny panties, and no sex?
Most of you know, I’m obsessed with words. I exercise this passion in two ways: writing and speaking. In both, I struggle with the idea of making people laugh vs. inspiring them.
The wrinkled granny panties are staring back at me and my mind starts to wander to a dangerous place called fear.
Can I keep giving motivational speeches while publishing a book called Unintentionally Celibate? Will people take my message seriously??
On the contrary, will people who have seen me speak understand that sometimes I don’t feel very inspirational and on those days I just want to talk about dating and cookies?
Is it possible to produce humor content about sex and inspire people on the same blog? Can I air my dirty laundry on the world wide web and also be a motivational voice for other 20-somethings?
Luckily, the more I think about it, the more I realize that I’m being ridiculous. Why do humor and motivation have to be mutually exclusive?
I’m not going to blame myself though. We live in a culture that’s obsessed with quickly defining people. We build boxes, place people in them, and tie them with neat little bows.
We make assumptions that female comedians are unsexy and abrasive. We don’t think of them as nurturers or compassionate and loving friends.
When we hear that someone’s motivational, we expect them to be righteous and holier- than-thou. We don’t ever expect to hear about the kind of underwear they are or aren’t wearing.
But people are complex. I am complex.
Sometimes when I write or speak, I have a burning message about my own struggles and fear. It’s my hope that when people hear this message, they feel better or inspired.
But sometimes I just went on a bad date and I need to talk about THAT. And my hope is that it will make them laugh.
I think that’s all ok.
Maybe it’s time to deconstruct the boxes we build and the labels we let everyone give us and build a new box that says “raunchy and funny and kind and generous and loving and neurotic. All of it. And a bunch of other good and bad stuff too.”
Think that’s all possible?
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