i was wearing a dress today right and as it happens when you are curvy, some cleavage manages to show. sure whatever. fine until i come across my mother. she goes... " that bit," gesturing to my chest "looks bad, you have to wear something under that." oh fucking really? a bit of cleavage, MY NATURAL SKIN looks bad. for someone who started preaching having self-love and body positivity as soon as i became a teenager she is a big hypocrite. then again, she always has been. so the fuck what if my body exists? you can tell im curvy just by looking at me. trying to cover up doesn't change the fact to many i do have that "dream body" they'd like to fuck helplessly (i say dream body, because we all know its not about a dream person). i know how im seen, a small sheet of fabric doesn't change that, didn't seem to all the times ive been shown and told just what people would do to me if getting caught wasn't a consequence. but then of course, what would my dear mother know about that? it isn't like i let myself be perceived by any at all. but for so long it had been my soul and self i hid from view, guess now my physical existance shouldn't be perceived either. so, as i went on to cover up once more - all i thought was how being me could have been so much easier.
