Body Pride – or, Why I Spent Four Hours Naked With Strangers

A few months ago, I was on a tea date with a friend and she suddenly announced, “I know this girl, and she runs these Body Pride workshops! Everyone gets naked and you sit in a circle and talk about body image and sex and stuff! Do you want to go with me?”

I said sure, but I was thinking, Uh, that sounds kind of terrifying. See, I’m an introvert. A huge one. Maybe it’s not apparent from this blog, but I am. And meeting new people is scary enough as it is, but doing it naked? That seemed a little too far out of my comfort zone.

Fast forward a few months. In the middle of the night, I had a fit of impulsivity, as I often do, and fired off an e-mail to the workshop organizer, Caitlin, asking her to sign me up for an upcoming Body Pride event. In the morning, I asked my friend if she still wanted to do it with me, and she said yes. So it was a plan.

The day finally came. I found the top-secret location that had been texted to me, and nervously punched numbers into the buzzer. “Hey, I’m here for Body Pride?” I said into the speaker, feeling that the tone of my voice didn’t exactly convey the “pride” that would be my goal tonight. I sounded like a little mouse.

Caitlin let me into the beautiful space and I kicked off my shoes and sat down on the floor with the other girls who had arrived so far. The middle of the circle was full of delicious, healthy snacks, and the ladies were chatting about relationships and sex (what else?). Caitlin brought me a glass of wine and I slurped some down for courage. Most of the folks were older than me, or seemed that way, anyway (I sometimes feel like a 15-year-old when I go into shy-girl mode), but I didn’t feel too out of place.

When everyone had arrived, Caitlin and Khadeja passed out forms for us to sign. We had to agree that we wouldn’t sue the workshop organizers if the experience messed us up in any way (I can’t imagine how it could), and we could optionally allow them to use our photos on their website and in their work-in-progress photography book. Yes, there would be a photoshoot at the end of the night. I wasn’t sure whether I was mostly nervous or excited about that part. Somewhere around here, I noticed that my friend hadn’t shown up after all, so it was just me and eight women I’d never met before. Yikes.

Then an announcement was made to the effect of, “Okay, everybody get naked!” and we did. I think my boobs were the first ones to come out, because I’d purposely worn minimal clothing to make it easier to disrobe. And, to my amazement, I didn’t feel the least bit ashamed or embarrassed. Everyone else was taking off their clothes, too. And then we were all sitting in a circle, completely naked, like it was the most normal thing in the world (because it kind of is).

The organizers passed out “muff mats,” little hand-towels for us to sit our pussies on, because women have bodies and those bodies sometimes excrete stuff that probably doesn’t belong on a stranger’s floor. Not in a shamey way, just in a practical way, you understand.

While everyone sipped their drinks and passed back the last of their signed forms, Caitlin explained where the idea for Body Pride had come from. She told us the story of her revelation that bodies weren’t something to be ashamed of, or even to be “just okay” with – that they should be loved, embraced, celebrated. And so she’d decided to take photos of herself naked and post them on the internet (indeed, one of the bravest and most scarily permanent decisions a young woman can make in this day and age). She’d then gotten an e-mail from a friend asking if there were going to be “happy naked girl parties” to further this agenda, and a lightbulb went off in Caitlin’s head. And so Body Pride was born.

The workshop was run in an around-the-circle way, with each woman speaking on the topic at hand when it was her turn. First we talked about why we’d decided to attend; answers ranged from “It just sounded like fun” to “I need to become more comfortable with my naked body” to “I just broke up with my boyfriend and this seemed like a good thing to do afterward.” Even though we all had different specific reasons, it seemed that our intentions were ultimately the same: to be with other naked women in a non-sexual but personally and sexually affirming way.

We talked about our childhood experiences with sexuality and masturbation, our parents’ influences, our present-day body image, sexual debuts, relationship regrets, wishes for the future, threesomes, and porn. We covered many topics, thoroughly and respectfully. Every woman’s words were listened to and absorbed. The discussion was structured but still participant-led. Caitlin sort of sat back and let us talk about what we wanted to talk about, only intervening occasionally if we needed to be steered a little.

By the end of our hours-long talk, most of us were pretty drunk, and nudity felt completely natural and normal. Caitlin and Khadeja moved over to the white backdrop that was already pinned up on one wall, and set up a tripod, camera, and large studio light. Someone put on some sexy, groovy, cheesy music from the ‘90s (I definitely remember there was Sir Mix-A-Lot and the Spice Girls) that got us into a dancing mood. And one by one, we each took our turn in front of the camera, shaking our booties, flaunting our bodies, loving our beauty. I felt like a drunker version of Bettie Page. I felt powerful and gorgeous and luminescent.

When we weren’t posing, we signed the Body Pride guestbook, talked about ex-boyfriends, and had more to drink. These women, who I’d only met a few hours before, I felt like I understood. I saw that their motivations and histories were not so different from mine, even though some of them had had over 300 sexual partners and I’ve only had two. We were all united in the common pursuit of sexual freedom and radical self-love.

Finally, it was time to go. I put my clothes back on, which felt weird. I stumbled out drunkenly into the street and said goodbye to everyone. Then I went home and had a bagel and pondered the nature of female sexuality.

Interested in attending a Body Pride workshop? Do you live in the Toronto area or can you get there? Then keep an eye on Caitlin’s website for future events!

That Time I Went to a Handjob Workshop

After I grew to like penises, I quickly grew to love handjobs. The closeness, the intimacy, the ability to completely control my boyfriend with a flick of my wrist or a quick adjustment of finger positioning. I love everything about giving pleasure with my hands.

By a stroke (ha!) of luck, I happened to win a free ticket to a handjob workshop, around the same time that I was just getting into them. I felt very much like the universe was taking care of me; like it knew what I wanted.

The workshop was held in the upstairs room of my favorite feminist sex shop. I signed in, climbed the stairs, and chose an empty seat directly facing the instructor. I got out a pen and my little notebook, ready to record anything important.

The instructor began by telling us about herself – her sexual and professional history, and why she felt qualified to be giving this workshop. She came across as very smart and savvy, and I felt I was in good hands, so to speak.

Then we went around the circle and each told the group our name, our reason for attending the workshop, and our favorite part of the male physique. Some people had very little experience dealing with penises (like me) and wanted to learn from the ground up; others had been giving handjobs for literally decades and just wanted to pick up a few tricks. As for our favorite feature of the male body, many people said they like men’s warmth, arms, and butt; I professed my passion for the foreskin. (This proved to be a great idea because it meant that the instructor addressed me all evening with tips specifically for uncut guys.)

It was around this time that I began to feel really comfortable. These things are always awkward at first, but you quickly realize that you’re in good company. Everyone around me was non-judgmental and passionate about penises – the perfect crowd for such an event.

The workshop progressed into a lesson on male anatomy. Most of the stuff, I already knew – the head of the penis, the shaft, balls, frenulum, perineum, prostate – but the instructor mentioned that the entire underside of the penis is sensitive, compared to the top side, which I’d never really pondered before. I’d spend most of my time focusing on my boyfriend’s frenulum, never knowing that the rest of that side was very receptive too.

The instructor passed out a two-page handout for us to take notes on, and began to walk us through what she considers the three most important elements of a handjob: variety, lube, and pressure. We discussed “mixing it up,” and which lubes are best for giving HJs (silicone-based, or an oil if you’re not going to use condoms afterward). Some people had questions, which the instructor answered thoughtfully and insightfully.

Then we had a 15-minute break. I wandered downstairs and bought a little bottle of Pjur, convinced of the wonders of silicone-based lube, and a few flavored condoms just for fun.

When we started up again, we dove straight into techniques. A basket of realistic silicone dildos was passed around, and we each took one. Then the lube circulated; we rubbed it onto our dildos, and only the occasional participant seemed at all embarrassed. We referred to the list of technique names on our handout, and the instructor demonstrated each of them, moving slowly and purposefully from move to move. Sometimes she’d show us a video of a particular technique in action, to help us understand. She walked around the room and watched people’s hands, adjusting us when we got something wrong.

We went through each technique twice, to make sure they were truly drilled into our muscle memory. After taking a few questions, the instructor had us go around the room and each say one technique that we were most looking forward to trying out. I honestly don’t remember what I said, because I ended up going home and trying out all of them on my very lucky boyfriend.

I’d definitely recommend sex workshops to anyone who feels brave enough to go, provided that they’re held in a reputable venue (don’t go to your local skeezy adult video shop to be taught proper sexual technique!). They can be very empowering and may enliven your sex life with some much-needed confidence. Maybe I’ll even drag my boyfriend to a couples’ workshop someday.