Hello and welcome to 1995! What a time to be alive! I’m just 20 years old with my whole life ahead of me. I mean sure, this year has had its downsides… this building in Oklahoma City was bombed… OJ is on trial for killing his wife and another guy…

BUT, there are so many good things happening right now, too. Cal Ripken, Jr. just broke Lou Gherig’s consecutive games played streak. Go O’s! There’s a new game console coming out called “The Playstation” and there’s this new movie called “Toy Story” that was animated entirely on computers… just really high tech stuff going on right now.

All I’m saying is, when the Matrix movie comes out in four years, I will be in complete agreement with Agent Smith: This is the peak of our civilization.

Ok, fine, it’s not the nineties anymore. It’s 2025 and in this year I’m a 50 year old mother and grandmother. Back then I was much younger, thinner… but also much more CLUELESS than I am now.Anyway, hi, my name is Jen and I have a story. Everybody who lives long enough does, of course, but this is mine and I think it’s a fairly unique one.

While I wouldn’t have been able to put it into words back then, when I graduated high school in 1992, I was feeling pretty lost and was willing to let the currents of life take me where they may.

In other words, I was extremely dangerous… especially to myself.

I would never have guessed it when I was growing up but I became an unwitting internet pioneer. It feels a little boastful to say, but I also think it’s an accurate label: One that others have used to describe me, as well. Small slivers of my story have been told in various publications over the years, but I’ve always wanted to tell mine: The full story, in my own words.

I can’t promise that you’ll like me after hearing this. I have plenty of regrets. The only thing I can promise is that I’m going to be as truthful as possible. I have a pretty good memory, but I’m not infallible. Plus, I will try to temper my very natural human desire to make myself look good and have people like me and just tell the story as it actually happened but, I am human… so, if anybody feels the need to make a correction, just consider me Seth Meyers.

Before I really get to it, though, I do feel like I have to preface this by saying I’m not against trigger warnings but, I’m also not going to bother with them because frankly, there would just be too many to keep up with. If there’s a topic that would upset you in a way that would be harmful to your mental health, by all means, skip this whole thing. This is not nearly important enough to take that kind of risk and I never want to hurt anyone.

I’ve done so, of course. You don’t live as long as I have without hurting people, even if you live a quiet, average life… which I have decidedly not.

I will be opening up about a lot of things that have happened: some funny… some sad… some scandalous… and some that are just freaking crazy. That’s the best warning I can give.

Finally… and, I promise, I’m getting to the actual story, but just one last thing… I’m planning to release this story as a video series, a podcast series, and a written series. I totally get the desire to consume media in different ways for all kinds of completely valid reasons. I love videos and podcasts but sometimes I find myself saying, “Can I just read an article please?” So, feel free to pick the one that works best for you. I’m just thankful you’re willing to give me some of your time and attention.

And yes, I am trying to get attention. Duh. I’m on the internet. However, I do feel like, despite the self-deprecating title, it’s a story that could resonate with and maybe even help people, if even just to say you’re not alone, you have worth…

OK, OK, sorry. Let’s get to it!

I’ve always felt like this story began on April 1, 1995.

Yeah, April Fool’s Day. What can I say? When looking back at my life, I see so much poetry.

Early spring in Baltimore can be iffy weather-wise, but on this day it was clear, with light winds, and highs in the mid-50s (which I totally just remember and didn’t look up in a weather archive). A nice day to move into my first real apartment.

Well, mine and Dave’s. Dave and I had been dating for about a year and a half by then. We had even lived together during the summer of ‘94 in this nightmarishly bad studio apartment in the Mt. Vernon neighborhood of Baltimore. We don’t exactly count that as our first apartment, because it was a short stay and I ended up moving back in with my family for a while. Eventually, though, we decided to give it another shot, and this time it stuck.

When we made the decision to move in together again, I found an ad in the classifieds section of the newspaper, for what sounded like a decent place, at a decent price (I think the rent was like $500/month, all utilities except gas and electric included), in the neighborhood of Govans which is in the north-central portion of Baltimore City. In fact, it was less than a mile from the county line and just a couple of blocks south of the historic Senator Theater on York Road. Bruce Willis filmed the theater scene of 12 Monkeys there during that time. I never saw him but I did see a picture of him in the paper passing by very close to our apartment, which was exciting.

The place itself was a little one-bedroom that sort of looked like it had been slapped on top of a building as an afterthought. Below us was a State Farm office and the agent was our landlord.

It was a bit on the old side and had this weird design where you had to step down into the kitchen and the bedroom… in fact, you had to step down two steps and then up one to get into the bedroom. (It was only a matter of time before I sprained my ankle while hurriedly getting ready for work one morning.)

It only had one room air-conditioner in the living room and during the summer, we’d hang sheets to cover the doorways to the kitchen and the hall, so that we could have one room that would be bearable during the hot, sticky, stifling Baltimore summers.

But it was clean and had some interesting features like a built-in bookcase in the bedroom and an alcove with a big bay window in the living room… which overlooked a parking lot next to a local bar… which I later found out only had one toilet for women… which might explain why we had so many college girls pissing under our windows in that parking lot, thinking nobody was around at that time of night.

Anyway, I have a very clear memory of looking out that window that day, as Dave and my Dad and brothers left to return the moving truck. I was alone and started thinking about everything that had brought me here.

Our relationship had been a bit on the tumultuous side leading up to this, but I vowed at that time to commit to Dave and building a life together. A fresh start for both of us.

A couple of weeks after moving in, I received a Sears credit card in the mail. I can’t even remember how I came to apply for it, but I already had a couple of credit cards by this time. Part of me knew it was a bad idea but I was managing OK at the time. I mostly used them to buy clothes… which might seem ironic after hearing my story but, after growing up with little more than hand-me-downs from wherever and whoever, when I started making my own money, I just became obsessed with buying my own clothes. I mean, I didn’t go crazy but I was always on the lookout for something cute and cheap. Heck, I still am.

With this card, though, Dave suggested we buy a computer. I was not into computers at all, but I loved Dave and wanted him to be happy so, sure, why not.

So, we took a bus up to the old Hunt Valley Mall. It was a bit of a journey because we had to make a transfer in Towson, but that was where the nearest Sears happened to be. There, Dave spent a long time talking with the salesman in the computer section.

I had no input… I was just there to pay… so I went off wandering around the store for a while. I think I bought a hammer and a couple of new dresses while they talked about motherboards and state-of-the-art 14.4 modems.

When he had finally made his choice, we realized we didn’t have enough of a credit limit on my Sears card to cover the whole thing. So, the salesman suggested I apply for some other type of Sears credit account. I think it was called Sears PLUS. I’m still not sure what the deal with that was, but I applied, got approved, and after waiting what felt like another eternity, they brought out the computer from the back… and then we hopped back on the buses! Yes, we brought a mid-nineties-era computer home via bus.

For those that might not remember, computers were a bit on the big and heavy side at that time. So, when we returned home, I took a nap. Dave, on the other hand, was excited to get it all set up and onto this new-fangled thing called “the internet.”

Dave had tried his best to explain to me what the internet was but, I’ll admit that I didn’t quite get it at first. I had heard about America Online through my Mom (she was a self-proclaimed computer geek herself), and I had even taken a computer class in high school one semester (even though it was completely useless and I just faked my way through the whole thing).

It was still all very new and intimidating to me, though. I would get nervous just trying to turn a computer on. I was just sure that one of these times, I was going to accidentally hit the wrong button and activate some kind of self-destruct sequence.

I very slowly started trying out different things, though. I joined this local BBS that my Mom was already on and checked out a few chat rooms on Prodigy. It was mildly interesting, but I didn’t get a lot out of it.

Meanwhile, though, Dave was on the “newsgroups” or Usenet. ​​It was there that he discovered people were posting photos of *real* naked women.

Not that Playboy models or professional porn stars aren't "real women” but, these were photos that were clearly just somebody's wife or girlfriend... true girls next door.

Pretty commonplace now, right? Not then. Never before did you have access to this kind of thing, especially on this scale.

Amateur was a term that was used a lot. Amateur photographers, amateur models. Nobody knew what they were doing and certainly nobody made money on the internet back then. Just the thought of sharing your credit card over the internet seemed as crazy as just getting into a car with someone you’ve never met. It just wasn’t a thing… yet.

Anyway, it wasn’t long before Dave asked if I would want to pose for some photos and have him post them to these groups. A common question Dave would receive in the ensuing years was, “How did you convince her to do it?” The answer, however, was not very helpful, because he asked and I said, “Sure!”

Dave had taken a couple of nude photos of me before, in that Mt. Vernon studio, so it wasn’t completely out of the blue when he asked what I thought about shooting some new ones to post. (Those very first photos were lost in an incident after I moved back home. Still love ya, though, sis!)

It wasn’t even the first time I had considered a job in adult entertainment. When I was 18, I answered an ad looking for exotic dancers. It seemed scary, but exciting. I took the light rail up to Baltimore Street, walked into that strip club (I believe it was called the “El Dorado”)… and then walked right back out. It was just way too much for me at the time.

But this? This was different. The only person I would have to get naked in front of was Dave? He sees me naked all the time!

I also didn’t care if people looked at photos of me. Did I have to talk to these people? See them in person? No? Cool, knock yourselves out.

I really didn’t have any expectations, but I’ll admit that I had the fleeting thought, “Wouldn’t it be cool if it led to something more someday?” I had no idea what that something more might be but, I think I was drawn to the idea of putting myself out there and seeing what might happen. Not that I gave any of this much thought but, I was working as a receptionist at the time and still had no real direction or plan for my life… so, yeah, I said “why not” a lot.

We took my old, cheap, point-and-shoot 35mm and shot some photos… in the shower, on the couch, on the bed… wherever we could think to shoot in the confines of our apartment.

Then we not only had to get them developed but figure out how to get digital versions that we could post online. Dave found a company called Seattle FilmWorks that would not only develop rolls of film but scan the prints and send them back to you on a floppy disk. They would even send you new rolls of film… that we found out later that only they could develop for some reason… which led to a very embarrassing incident at a Rite-Aid photo counter, but that’s a story for another time.

When we received that first batch of photos in the mail, we first realized that while all the photos were on the floppy disk, the prints of certain shots were missing. They just happened to be ones that very prominently featured my ass, but I’m sure that’s just a coincidence. The digital versions were the ones we were really looking for, though, so we didn’t bother to complain. There weren't really any other viable options for us at the time anyway, so we continued to use them for quite a while, despite never getting all the prints.

We then decided on three photos to post, just to get things started. Dave labeled them JNSHRP01.jpg, JNSHRP02.jpg, and JNSHRP03.jpg, inspired by the handle I had used on the BBS: “SharpJ.” (You know, because I’m smart or “sharp.” I even know how to turn on a computer now!)

Dave posted the photos and the response was immediate and overwhelming. There were so many messages telling me that I was hot, beautiful, sexy… one even accused us of posting photos of a professional model. To say it was an ego boost would be an understatement.

We then made it a habit to post three new photos every Sunday night. While I say “we” a lot, Dave was primarily the one doing the posting, going through the messages… at least in the very beginning. He would show me the emails (after filtering out any negative ones or “flames” as we called them back in the day), and I even replied to a few. However, in the beginning, I wasn’t much more than just the model.

Although to be fair, that was a pretty important piece of the puzzle. Plus, the story doesn’t end there… far from it. This is truly just the very beginning.

But for now, like, subscribe, all that good stuff. Tell me in the comments what you think… and, I’ll be back next week with the next chapter! Until then, be well.

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