You may be able to force or convince somebody to change their mind, but it won't last. The only change that lasts is self-determined change. And it is also by far the most pleasurable and satisfying change.
Letters to Domai
I stumbled across some Domai pictures years ago and thought they were tasteful and wished I could find more. I finally found your site and became hooked. My experience on the Internet was forever changed. My search for quality pictures that promoted beauty and the appreciation of beauty had been solved with one word: Domai! Last summer I came to realize the real power of your site and the message that Dirty Old Men want to get out to the world.
A friend of mine growing up was blessed with a wonderful family who took me in as one of their own. Every time I showed up at the door, I became the fifth child of the family. Christopher's mother had a wonderful love of life that she passed on to her children and the other children of the neighborhood. Christopher was the oldest of four children; the youngest, and the only girl, was Mary.
Growing up Mary was the little sister who was always wanted to fit in with the big brothers, and we did not want to be bothered. We just did not want to baby sit for the young, fragile kid while we played big boy games. Years later Christopher and I went off to college and I forgot about Mary.
Some years later, Christopher came over for a visit with Mary who just arrived home from her first year of college at an Ivy League school. She had matured into a beautiful, intelligent woman. I stood there awestruck as I invited them in for an afternoon visit. Christopher and I usually talked business, but that day we had the pleasure of living Mary's life at school vicariously through the conversation.
Mary invited herself over on random occasions during the summer. One day she found me working on my laptop in the living room. She noticed the wallpaper of Tina in the water and then the Domai screen saver. She accused me of ogling naked girls. She and I talked about how nudity had become perceived as dirty. She told me about a party at school where a few of the boys had gone au-natural. She thought it was funny and had joined in with some others by getting down to her underwear, but that was as far as she ever went.
Mary explained how she had felt uncomfortable showing herself to anyone and had not even let her boyfriend see here with the lights on in the room. As we talked she noted how the girls on Domai.com seemed happy and carefree and gorgeous in their own skin. She wished she could do the same, but felt she never could.
When Mary left that afternoon, she had a look of deep thought that caused her brow to furrow under her blonde bangs. I figured she was shocked and I would not see her for a while.
Mary called up a few days later saying she wanted to take me out for lunch. Saturday came around and Mary showed up at the door with a lovely sundress, sandals, and a picnic basket. I was confused.
"I decided that I wanted to have a picnic, instead."
"Okay, where are we going?"
"Let's go to the back yard!" she said with a strange excitement in her voice.
Once out back, she spread out a blanket and opened the basket. She stood up and made a statement of declaration.
"After our talk last week... Well... If I don't do this now I never will." With that she took the sleeves of her dress off her shoulders revealing the smooth lines of her neck down to her freckled cleavage. Mary looked me in the eye as if to gain some confidence and lowered the dress to her waist exposing her breasts and flat tummy to the sun for the first time in her life. Then she released any hesitation and let go of the dress and it fell to her feet.
Mary stood before me in her sandals, smiled at me, and said, "I knew I wanted to do this and that I could trust you. Wow! This feels good."
I sat on the blanket in some amount of shock and surprise and awe. Mary spun around and posed with her blonde hair cascading over her small round breasts. Her nipples poked out and up, perfectly round as the exclamation point at the end of a beautiful line of poetry. She had spent time out in the sun as her tan lines showed. Her breasts were accentuated by perfect triangles and complimented by the larger one below with a smaller triangle of neatly trimmed, blonde hair. Her little, white behind was perfectly round and muscular. She gracefully leaned over to remove the sandals and sat before me completely nude, beaming a smile of pride having done something she thought would be painful and turned out to be simple.
"Well, are you going to join me?" she asked.
Mary's question pulled me back into reality and we started talking again. She said that she had practiced standing in front of the mirror naked and finally realized she really was beautiful. She looked at me as I undressed and stared unabashedly. She seemed to be changing before my eyes from the girl who bothered us growing up into the woman who appreciated her own beauty and what that really meant.
We sat and ate the delicious lunch Mary had prepared. Mary talked about how the pictures and our conversation made her think about her own body as beautiful and not ashamed. She wanted to be as beautiful as the girls in those pictures; I assured her that she was even more so. After our meal, we sat in the tree swing a while and talked through the afternoon as her long legs dangled gracefully.
She had grown comfortable in her skin and proud. Mary danced around the yard and felt the air on her skin. She bubbled with enthusiasm of newfound pleasure. She felt the sun warm her body. She became a beautiful, young woman aware of what she really was.
Mary came over for one more afternoon picnic before she went back to school. I think often of the gift she offered me. I think often of the beauty Mary showed in her confidence and pride. I think often of what next summer will have to offer.
Thank you, Eolake, for offering a place for us as Dirty Old Men to have a forum. There are results of the movement. Mary has even said that she goes to your site occasionally. Maybe Mary will read this and feel the power of what it has meant.