Once upon a time, I was in a long distance relationship. Anyone who’s been in one has their own war story, all culminating in the conclusion that we were not the exception, but the rule. I won’t bore you with my cautionary tale. Instead I will tell you what it’s like to be a modern woman under such circumstances: You get a fuck load of dick pics.
What’s the point of a dick pic in a monogamous relationship? Simply to tell your lady that you have a boner and no one else is around. Sure there may be a screen of porn in the background, but don’t worry baby, this disgusting display is all yours. Just don’t respond with ‘thank you.’ Your gratitude won’t be appreciated.
This was my introduction to the gross and engrossing world of picture sexts. I still find myself falling into these exchanges, but I try to deal with it like an adult. When asked to send a pic, I no longer attempt a seductive pose that conceals my face and identifying marks. Instead I find one of my favorite Anne Geddes photos of babies inside flowers. I did not succeed in my attempt at adult behavior.
It’s not that I’m opposed to sending or receiving pictures of naughty parts. I am just struggling to find some level of old fashioned romance in this contemporary form of courtship. Yes, I’m calling it courtship. In ten years if you haven’t seen your spouse’s goods via phone screen, it will be only a result of religious fundamentalism. But I still long for an old black and white movie where a man stands in the rain outside a woman’s window, holding a charcoal rendering of his dick. I want to write the rhetorical question “is that too much to ask?” yet I know I am asking for a lot.
I used to feel shame for encouraging this electronic exercise of exhibitionism. I’ve even shamed others, but that stops here. Parts are weird and we’re adults. We’ve had them all our lives, along with the free will to show them to whoever we please*. We even have the technological ability to present them from a safe physical and emotional distance. We have everything we could ever need. Mass text your parts, people. Life is short, but your dick? That remains to be seen.
*Not cops, kids, or prudes.
I’ll go first.