
Alex's Boudoir Experience
Alex Shares the Story of her Boudoir Photo Shoot
Isn’t She Lovely…
I actually really hate what I look like in pictures. I haven’t changed my profile picture on Facebook in 2 years—my fiancé is in it, I was skinner then, and I happen to be wearing makeup. Why disrupt a good thing?
Signing up for a boudoir shoot was a crazy idea. It was meant to be a wedding gift for my fiancé—he was always telling me how beautiful I am, even if I rolled my eyes every time he said it. Beautiful after working for 8 hours? Beautiful after spending 4 hours a day commuting? Sweatpants, hair tie, chillin’ with no makeup on…beautiful? No. Not quite.
I appreciated the love and compliments, but it was hard to believe him most days. I knew he thought I was perfect, but what was he seeing that I couldn’t see? A boudoir shoot would blow his mind. He would never expect it. I could do this for him…I think. I never expected to feel immediate doubt. WHAT was I thinking? Scheduling a boudoir shoot? In front of strangers no less?
I wasn’t a sexy person—I knew next to nothing about what looked sexy on me. I had never even seen a garter belt in person. Those could stay with the Victoria’s Secret models. I went to my closest friends for support. But all I got in reply was absolute shock. “You’re doing WHAT…?” “You’re brave.” “I could never do that…”
I wasn’t ever going to be that girl.
But I sure as hell could try. Right…?
I prepared for my boudoir shoot as much as I could, checking off all of the things on my list to buy and do to make myself look like a better version of myself. Nails and toes done?—check. Hey, ladies, ever had a Brazilian wax?—painful check. Go to Victoria’s Secret and have the sales associate get over the headset to everyone in the entire store to announce a bride was headed to the fitting room for a boudoir shoot? And then having the thrilled woman in charge of the fitting room exclaim that I must show her once I had the lingerie on?—Embarrassing check.
Then it was here—Boudoir Shoot Day. I shuffled into the studio—wearing leggings and an oversized sweatshirt—and was immediately greeted by three friendly faces.
“What are you going for today?” Meghan asked me.
“Well…I don’t ever wear makeup…and I wear my glasses every day. So…” I was staring at myself in the mirror, the fluorescent bulbs highlighting the blemishes on my face. I didn’t know how to reply.
“Do you like curls?”
I smiled. I loved when my hair was curled. I started to get more comfortable. While I was getting my hair and makeup done, Abigail and Andy were chatting with me about life, work, photography. I even made a joke about being half naked in front of a group of strangers—and they laughed! Maybe I can do this. Especially when I looked at myself in the mirror once I was done in the chair. I couldn’t stop staring. Could I really look that pretty? I genuinely didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror—the same mirror where I had just focused on the imperfections of my face. Why was I so obsessed with focusing on the negative?
But I was determined for today to not be that day. If I could jump out of a perfectly good airplane on my birthday, I could jump off this cliff of imperfection.
The conservative, awkward nerd in glasses finally started coming out of her shell, slowly but surely.
“Look how stunning you are,” Abigail rushed over to show me a picture on the camera. And I started to believe it.
Even if I had to play, “Run the World (Girls)” by Beyoncé in my head to hype me up in the beginning. Even if Abigail had to help me hook up my thigh-highs to the garter belt. Even when I couldn’t relax the worry-wrinkles on my forehead. Even when I had to cling onto the red chair for dear life as I flipped my hair. Even when I was laughing hysterically because the bed sucks you in. Even when I laid down on the cold, bare floor to get the perfect shot. I finally let go—I felt free.
I could have never imagined what the final product would be.
Andy and Abigail showed me picture after picture —a girl I hardly recognized.
“Is that me?! That’s not me,” I kept repeating.
“Yes! That IS you!” they kept saying. I didn’t focus on the flaws and imperfections that plagued my daily life. It was so liberating. For the very first time in my life, I genuinely didn’t feel weighed down by those thoughts. Maybe it took Abigail’s perspective for me to see myself in a true light. That stunning woman in those pictures WAS me—looking completely and utterly flawless. The pictures weren’t even edited—they came straight from the camera onto the projection screen. I was speechless.
Flawless. Me. Used in the same sentence. (I get emotional just writing this.) I had never felt that way before. I felt like I was on top of the world. Is this what it felt like to see me through my fiancé’s eyes? Is this what it felt like to truly love yourself?
I knew that if I felt this way about myself, there was no way on earth he wouldn’t be surprised. I decided to get a photo album for my fiancé—20 glorious and glossy pages from the boudoir shoot that I flip through myself every chance I get. I think I look at them more than he does. It’s a daily reminder that my self-image has completely changed after having my boudoir shoot. A new level of confidence and acceptance became a part of my every day life…all thanks to Abigail and Andy, two people who have the very special talent of finding beauty in everyone.
I feel empowered just being, well…me. I had realized in giving my fiancé this gift, I had unintentionally given myself the best gift of all.
Love.