“You’re a sexy chick, why don’t you show it off?”
“You’re telling me if you were offered a hundred thousand dollars to appear in an adult magazine, you would turn it down?”
“Her religious guidelines are restricting.”
I got a lot of raised eyebrows when I initially told people in Hollywood what my standards of modesty were. Most people respected my values and tried to accommodate my “restrictive guidelines” but some were harder to convince. Covering up is not popular in a culture that seems to celebrate women’s bodies more than their brains, and after watching “Dancing with the Stars” Monday night, it appears that some things haven’t changed.
Reality star and singer Erika Jayne performed a racy salsa with partner Gleb Savchenko that was called “raunchy” by one judge.
“I know the salsa’s sort of a sexy dance,” judge Len Goodman said. “For me, it was a little bit too raunchy, but I am what I am.”
Fellow judge Julianne Hough disagreed. “You are out here trying to show that women should embrace their sensuality and that it’s OK and it’s amazing.”
I don’t see raunchy behavior as “amazing.” I quickly realized while living in Hollywood how sad women really are who use their bodies to get attention, and how it always led to lower self-esteem and self-respect, no matter how confident they appeared to be on the outside.
I didn’t want to live like that.
Many times I had to coax, persuade and even argue my way into wearing more clothing. During my brief stint on NBC’s “Fear Factor,” we received a contract that stated us women had to wear a bikini to compete on the show. “Two-piece bathing suit — NO EXCEPTIONS!”
My manager was able to convince them to let me bring “two pieces” — but those two pieces could be a one-piece bathing suit with swim shorts. They agreed to make that “exception” for me.
I’ll never forget walking out for one of our stunts, standing next to all the other female contestants wearing bikinis, and me sporting a neck-high one-piece bathing suit and long swim shorts that touched my knees. The other girls snickered until they saw that our stunt involved being locked in an air-tight box, submerged underwater, with Madagascar hissing cockroaches, beetles and maggots. The women screamed as they pulled insects from every nook and cranny while I calmly swept them off my completely covered body like it was no big deal. I was grateful to be wearing a modest swimsuit that day, for many reasons.
A few days later came the question about why I didn’t “show off” my body. It took me a minute to gain the courage to answer my fellow contestant. I looked at him and said, “I am saving that for my husband.” I felt an instant confirmation that what I said was right. The most intimate and special and private sharing of body, mind and soul should be with my spouse, and my spouse only.
I love the quote by Sister Margaret D. Nadauld, from when she was the Young Women general president, in her talk “The Joy of Womanhood,” which states: “Women of God can never be like women of the world. … We have enough women of fame and fortune; we need more women of faith. We have enough greed; we need more goodness. We have enough vanity; we need more virtue.”
The belief that publicly “embracing sensuality” is somehow empowering for women is simply not true. There's a time and a place for sharing sensuality, and it is in private, with our spouse, for the beautiful and sanctifying purpose of strengthening marriage, not on a dance floor in front of millions of people in order to gain more votes.
Carmen Rasmusen Herbert is a former "American Idol" contestant who writes about entertainment and family for the Deseret News. Her email is carmen.r.herbert@gmail.com.