Q: Why do you call yourself an exhibitionist?

A: On a personal level, a large part of my sex-positive platform hinges on an insistence on re-envisioning what constitutes exhibitionism. So you might ask, if my experience of exhibitionism doesn't match the stereotype, then why do I call myself an exhibitionist? Well, other than the fact that this is a great opportunity to highlight and combat the way we tend to stereotype and "other" people we don't understand - especially when sex is involved - as with everyone else, sexual identity tends to be something you discover, more so than something you deliberately construct.

I didn't set out to champion the cause of exhibitionism when I entered the world of nude photography. Truth be told, I spent a lot of my life self-conscious about my body, and a lot of time in those early days as a nude model being mortified of sharing my images, out of a fear of negative judgment. I did it because I had a passion for the art form, and an admiration for the human body. If I'd had the opportunity, I would have shot images of beautiful naked women. But due to a social handicap, I was forced to limit myself to self-portraiture.

I've told this story before, but my whole journey as an artist grew out of looking back on sexting pics I shot (of myself) for my girlfriend in high school. I liked the pics, I enjoyed the process of taking them, and I had the distinct impression that it was unfair that only one person in the world (besides myself) should ever get a chance to see them. That's why I started sharing them, and that's how I got started taking more. What happened from there is that I developed an appreciative audience. I continued to enjoy the process, and there were people out there who liked the results. Over the years, I gained confidence and experience, and I groomed myself to be an even more eye-catching model, until nude self-portraiture became a fundamental part of my life and identity.

Because I was lucky enough to be "reared" as an artist in a permissive environment, and because my self-portraiture has always been an independent activity, there were never any artificial boundaries erected between nudity and eroticism, and nothing stopped me from exploring both through my photography - except my own embarrassment at first, which was gradually eroded as, again, I acquired an appreciative, even enthusiastic, audience for such works. If at any point I was uncomfortable with sexually explicit media, I would have stopped producing it. Instead, I found it to be an enjoyable activity. And I also found sharing it with an appreciative audience to be empowering, but not just that - it was also exciting.

I'm pretty sure getting excited by expressing your sexuality (especially visually) in front of random strangers on the internet counts as exhibitionism. Not everybody gets off on that. It just so happens that I do.* As do so many others. It's liberating, living in a sexually repressive culture, to be able to express yourself sexually and be appreciated (not shamed) for it. Moreover, as somebody with a social handicap and no strong interest to have intimate relationships with lots of people, this is a way that I can be sexually adventurous with very little (indeed, practically nonexistent) danger to myself or others. It has nothing to do with "accosting" people on the street, and everything to do with indulging in consensual kink with other voyeurs, as well as exploring, conceptually - through art - the excitement that can come from being naked or encountering nudity (whether or not that involves any sexual behavior whatsoever) in places and situations that it's not normally expected in a gymnophobic culture.

*I didn't immediately put two and two together, but in retrospect, one of my earliest and strongest memories of my own sexual awakening involves frolicking nude in front of a camera.

And I think there are a lot of people out there like me, if the popularity of websites like OnlyFans are any indication. I want to support them and defend them, and be a voice for them. And for myself. And show the world that we are not a dirty stereotype that can be brushed aside, reduced to a DSM diagnosis, and treated as mere "perverts" rather than human beings with an ethical conscience, deserving of dignity and respect and the same rights and liberties everybody else gets.

The Illusion of Danger

This photo illustrates one of my points about exhibitionism and sexual fetishism in general. It is a clone shot depicting one nude figure opening the gate for another nude figure, who is standing - as revealed by the viewpoint in the second part of the diptych - in view of the street. As an exhibitionist, the idea of standing in front of that open gate excites me. I don't know why it excites me. I didn't choose for it to excite me. That's just how it makes me feel. And that's why I constructed that illusion in this photomanipulation.

I never actually stood naked in front of that open gate. The gate was closed when I stood in front of it, and when I held it open, I was always behind it, out of view of the street. But when I stitch the two images together, it looks like I'm standing there naked in view of the street. That's part of the "artifice" in art. And I'm explaining the trick because it demonstrates my point - namely, that you can find something sexually thrilling and still understand the logistical and ethical issues it raises, and maintain self-control even in the face of those feelings.

Being an exhibitionist isn't illegal or unethical or immoral, and neither does having those feelings predetermine a stereotypical pattern of antisocial behavior. You might even find perfectly acceptable outlets for those desires - like when I share images like this one with consenting (even enthusiastic!) voyeurs online.