Dr. Phil is giving sexting a bad name. In his personal crusade to drum up ratings save teens from the sexting scourge, Dr. Phil warns that this “scary new trend” is “popping up around the country.” Popping up—really? Poor word choice aside, sexting is getting a bad wrap.
(Why am I watching Dr. Phil? I’m a freelance writer who often works from the comfort of my unmade bed. Thanks to a general lack of willpower and a penchant for distraction, I often fall prey to the lure of daytime TV. If you ever find me reciting soap opera plots, please stage an intervention.)
My TV addiction aside, the attack on sexting is reaching fever pitch. And it’s not just Dr. Phil. It’s every news outlet looking to boost ratings by scaring the bejeezus out of parents with tragic tales from the frontlines of this “epidemic.” Good Morning America even called a slew of teens and parents together for a town hall meeting designed to save the little hornballs from themselves. Awkward!
Come on, mass media. What did sexting ever do to you? Yes, we know teens are swimming in a sea of hormones and technology. Yes, we all loathe kiddy porn. And yes, we do feel bad for the girl whose foray into training bra modeling ended up on the Internet. But there are a few of us who still stand to benefit from sexting.
Here’s the thing about dirty texting: Much like any sex act, it’s best left to those who don’t read Tiger Beat, don mouth gear, watch Hannah Montana or squeal for the Jonas Brothers. Quite simply, it’s best left to those of us who can do it properly.
“Properly” is the operative word. Should you send a beauty shot of your package? No. Why? Because frankly, there is no such thing as a beauty shot of male genitalia. And because we may be visiting our grandmothers, reading storybooks to toddlers, eating a cup of yogurt for breakfast or engaging in any number of activities that would be sullied when your Penthouse pose arrives in our inbox.
Or simply because, in a bout of jealousy, anger, hysteria or scorn, we might forward it to all of our friends. (Have you learned nothing from the 13-year-olds paid to confess their sins and weep on Dr. Phil’s shoulder? Nudie pics, much like D-list reality stars, are just begging for mass exposure.) Not to mention that a screen smaller than a Post-it will never do your nether regions justice.
Besides, smart sexting has evolved far beyond a barrage of ill-conceived illicit pics. For anyone with thumbs and an ounce of ingenuity, text messages that are too hot for public consumption are an easy way to keep things steamy between nighttime romps—and to showcase your creative writing skills.
Guys, you’ve got to be smart about it. Consider sexting as another platform to woo women with witty banter. Don’t ask when we’re going to “cum over.” Not only is it unoriginal and not nearly as clever as you think it is, it also outs you as a bad speller. (So what if I spell check text messages?)
Like any form of foreplay, when executed properly, sexting builds excitement. When we’re toiling away in our cubicles, waiting in line at the post office or inching our way through traffic, it’s nice to know that you can’t wait to do very, very bad things to us. It shows that you want us—and that you can string coherent sentences together. Plus, if you (and your squeaky-clean mouth) aren’t ballsy enough to talk dirty in bed, sexting can serve as your training wheels.
Sexting as self-help—take that, Dr. Phil.
