[This blog article has some weird letters and numbers mixed in to protect the integrity of the website from crawls — due to the controversial nature of this story.]

2011. 20 years old, Austin, Texas, just starting mod3ling. I booked a gig with a "sought after" photographer. It was one of my first big shoots with a "big time" photographer. I listened to this dude ramble on about how big of a deal he was, and throughout the whole shoot I heard things like, 

"Ew, okay. Maybe turn your hips back, yeah like, waaay back." "Oh, don't worry, I can work with anything." 

I sat beside him after the shoot, and he wanted to demonstrate how "incredible" he is in postproduction. I watched as he proceeded to fly through shrinking my waist, thighs, upper arms and forearms, and jawline, and enlarging my eyes, hair, and breasts. This was what was left. 

At the moment, I thought, "Wow! He's absolutely transforming me!" and being so proud of this "better" version of myself.

This chapter of my life, my early twenties, fresh out of ministry school, being a "good Chr1st1an w1fe," and m0deling has felt like a huge secret I've had to keep for a long, long time. Here’s the real story.

This is the story of coming out of a s3xual-purity culture, how my modeling career started, and the Jekyll and Hyde life I lived between being a “good Chr1stian life” and secretly being a nûd3 m0del to provide for my family.

Note: This story does have controversial viewpoints, graphic language and incidents, and may not be suitable for some readers. Reader Beware!

Sēxual Purity Culture

I came hot out of ministry school in a community where they prided "s3xual purity" and "virg1níty." I wanted to change the world. I used to say I wanted to spend my life, "loving the hell out of people." 

Coming up on the last semester of my ministry school, I didn't have the slightest clue what my next step would be.  I wanted to be a miss10nary of some sort, but someone who's cool and blends into society. Unchurchy and lame-- a sort of undercover revivalist.

I didn't know what I wanted to do after ministry school, I just knew I didn't want to go into full-time ministry living in the confines of the four walls of a church, and I didn't want to return to Austin and be a loser and take up waiting tables again. The guy I was dating was an alumni of my ministry school, and we struggled with remaining s3xuálly pure and abstaining. The guilt of those "close calls" was debilitating, so, in our religious belief culture -- we wanted to honor God, so we decided to get married so we could have sėx.  

We got married in 6 weeks. Our wedding theme was, "F*ck you, we're from Texas." 

We got married on a friend’s ranch. I wore a $99 white prom dress, and was graciously lended a pearl-handled pistol I had mounted to my garter belt.

Everyone in our charismatic Christian “revivalist” culture was so focused on sêxual purity and honoring God, that no one asked the questions to young couples:

• "Do you have a plan to financially provide together?"

• "Can both of you hold a job consistently?"

• "Do you have any savings?"

• "Do you have a skill set that translates into earning income to sustain yourselves?"

I told my small group pastor our plans of going slow, getting jobs, moving to Austin and getting on our own two feet financially before getting married to be responsible, and he replied with, “Why would you wait and miss out on all those moments you two can grow together?” So, following my pastor’s advice, I changed my course and we got married.

Nope, just don't stick pegs into round holes without a ring on the finger. That was the focus. 

So we f*cked. Three weeks before our wedding day on our drive back to Texas.

I felt so guilty I couldn't forgive myself for the first nine months we were married. 

...Claiming to be a Christian.

…Claiming to be a pure person.

…Pledging my virg!n1ty to my husband.

..Claiming I love God...

...Imposter.

Going From “S3x Is Sin” To “S3x Is Totally Allowed” In 2.5 Seconds At An Altar!

I wasn't the only one who struggled going from s3xual sin is the ultimate evil to congratulations -- you can have sęx now! It's legal! 

He struggled around feeling guilty for weeks after we were married, too.

Fresh out of our Christ1an incubator of this bubble society, I quickly learned what the deal was. My husband was going to sit around, contemplating what the perfect "CEO" job, troll the dark corners of the internet and sit at home, and I would be the good faithful w!fe who submitted to my husband in serving him in whatever he desired. 

So I followed him, and we moved from Austin to the Virgin Islands to Austin to LA to Redding to Austin to the Virgin Islands over three years. We moved on average every 9 months. 

We both had no idea what we were doing.

When I look back, I have compassion. He was a young man; attempting to figure out who he was as an individual-- struggling to leave the dynamic of being a part of his family-- which is what every single 22 - 24-year-old experiences. And me? With my blue collar family — my Dad worked his butt off every day of his life to make sure his family and daught3r were protected and provided for? I spun a web of lies to my parents that "Everything was good!" "We were fine!" "Everything's going great!"

I didn’t know the balance between honoring my husband, and telling the truth about what was really happening.

Smoke And Mirrors

We lived in his parents' waterfront home on the lake that was in foreclosure, living with and supporting his two younger brothers while his parents had a journey of their own to sort out in the Caribbean.

I would buy groceries with the website usability tests I'd be paid $10 each to do, and I learned how to scavenge in the frostbitten corners of the freezer, pull together pasta meals from scratch (whole chickens became my best friends), and feed three 17-22-year-old men and myself on $40 a week.

Making Ends Meet

I didn't have a formal work skillset. Praying for people for healing, creating "prophetic art," and teaching English as a foreign language with a credential that wasn't valid to teach in any American schools. So I waited tables, I started a commercial and residential cleaning business, and I stumbled upon mod3ling. 

I always wanted to be a m0d3l. Perceiving myself as a bit of an ugly duckling growing up (but with nice eyes), so actually breaking through and becoming a mod3l? That would mean I'd made it.

But what no one tells you is how you get to the "top" of modēling if you don't come from a lush family with connections.

How Do You Start M0deling If You’re Broke AF?

You hustle and start at the bottom and work your way up. And what's bottom paying-jobs look like? Modeling for amat3ur photographers who are largely creeps. Oh yeah, and did I mention I was usually butt-ass nekked?

So there I was. Good Christian wife, doing everything to submit to my Charismatic evangelical husband who stayed home watching p0rn, playing video games, and "thinking" about business idea he was "destined to be the CEO" of. And me-- hustling, determining the odds of if I be murdered or raped on this shoot, negotiating rates, and booking my schedule with random men in the Austin area who would pay me to pose.

[ Now I have to interject that this is a huge generalization. Not every photographer I worked with was a creep. I met a few lifelong friends who are photographers I worked with during this time. And not every mod3l starts his/her career m0deling nekked, either; it's just if you want to get PAID, you get NÃKED.  ]

Jekyll and Hyde

So I had this Jekyll and Hyde complex developing. On Saturday I'd go model for some total creep, strip down in 50-degree weather and romp around in a field, or stand in some guys makeshift photography studio next to his Nissan Xterra in his garage. On Sunday, we'd meet up with my childhood youth group leaders for lunch and talk about our favorite takeaways from the sermon that day.

Totally separate lives.

The thing was, I was totally comfortable m0deling n@k3d. I studied fine art throughout school; I drew n00d figure m0dels, and I modeled in front of my classmates (with clothes on.) So I just channeled my inner fine-art mentality, and that's how I rationalized it.

But telling our Christian community? Absof*ckinlutely not. So my life and my marriage became this vague, ambiguous thing I spoke about in overtones.

"Yeah, I love Jesus with all my heart. Oh, okay, you want me to arch my back a little bit more? Okay, great."

Many people I’ve told about this chapter of my life have asked me what my husband thought about me being a model for hire.

My husband thought it was s3xy. It was one of the ways I attempted to fit the box of his latest fantasy of the week of what he decided he wanted. It also encouraged me not eat as much, which he was also in favor of.

The Reality

The challenge I've wrestled with through all this time? I love m0deling. I love being in front of the camera.

I think I'm beautiful. I enjoy my skin these days.

I worked, journaled, and journeyed really, really hard to feel gratitude for my curves, and my belly, and my face. I love what I see.

And a part of me back then was blossoming into that love, too.

Only it was so focused on fitting the confines of the male gaze, and not my own.

There’s Only Two Kinds Of Women: Mary The Virgin, and Mary The Whore

Morgan Day Cecil, a soul sister and role model I follow dearly, recently had a conversation around the way that as women, we've been trained and conditioned to fit into the criteria of what men want to f*ck.

Yep.

There's a certain type of pretty, there's a certain demeanor that's appealing to men.

Vulnerable, maybe a little helpful, definitely frail, toes turned in to highlight that perfect box gap (not triangle gap, mind you.) Easy.

In western Christian-Judeo society -- there are essentially two socially acceptable female archetypes -- Mary The Virgin, and Mary The Wh0r3. You can only be one or the other. The girl you bring home to meet your parents, or the girl you want to meet on that guys weekend in Vegas -- the girl you think about when you're f*cking the boring, muted-palette simpleton.

In reality -- there are so many other powerful facets of being a woman -- Priestess, Healer, Divine Mother, Enchantress, Seductress, The Maiden, The Maven...

I've found so much solace in observing Morgan Day Cecil's journey of advocating women learn to come home to themselves and heal their own gaze. To take back sexy, and what that means to them-- what's beautiful in their soft eyes.

I’ve come to stand in my truth that a my feminine sexuality and spirituality are one and the same. They're channels that intertwine into one another. And I want to honor this in myself, and I want to be an advocate for other women to do the same.

Reclaiming That Inner Beauty + Letting Her Out Of The Closet

So I'm taking it back, y'all. I'm reclaiming and embracing beauty I met a decade ago. I'm letting her out of the closet. 

I modeled extensively, yet 98% of those images have never seen the light of the day, and many have some ridiculous stories behind what went into those photos, but I never shared them because I was paralyzed by what other people would think. 

The way people would judge me as some kind of a harlot…

The sort of harlot that loses her virginity three weeks before her wedding day to her fiancé…

Some kind of careless, dishonorable fool…

Would one of my mom's friends on Facebook contact her and tell them they're concerned about Shelby's latest "acting out"?

Would another one of my Christian friends from that past life contact me to tell me how, "As my sister in Christ, it's my duty to tell you you're causing men like my son to stumble and you're out of line." 

I embrace the reality that I will trigger other women, and they will attempt to police me. I'll embrace holding space for the ones who need to unfollow, un-friend me…

…and I'm bringing her into the light, anyway. That's where she belongs.

I hope this story connects with a part of your journey in coming to terms with your beauty and experience in life. I’ve spoken with so many women who were raised in purity culture that really have struggled coming to terms with their sexuality, if this story hits a particular place in your life or you have a struggle you’d love some support around, please feel free to email me. I would love to connect with you!

Meet The Author: Shelby Ring is the chief cat herder and lead storyteller at Ruby Riot Creatives; a boutique videography firm based out of Charleston, South Carolina that specializes in supporting women and couples through video and photo portraits from the various phases of their lives.  Outside of filming, you might find her in a room full of sweaty women teaching Primal Prowess, a movement practice to help women heal and connect with their sense of femininity and sexuality.  Shelby is a champion and an advocate for women finding their sense of power and beauty, no matter what cards they’re dealt. Experiencing quite a journey of infertility in her own life, Shelby believes in storytelling as a way to share, process, and help other women heal and find beauty in their journey through infertility, trauma or loss in their lives. You can find her most recent stories on her blog over at Ruby Riot Creatives.