Don’t Steal My Naked… Truth

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I almost shut this blog down last night. That would be the fourth blog I have shut since I married Andy ( The rat bastard soon to be ex husband)  Always driven by fear, worry, shame…..

But it was my child’s father that gave me sound advice late last night as he scrambled to close accounts hacked and stymie any further money from being removed from my paypal. I am going to be 43 in a few weeks. I write to remember, to express, to think things through. I have posted photos in various forms of undress, however none more naked than my words.  Why give that up? It’s my place to throat clear.

I participate at times in Molly’s Daily Kiss.. Sinful Sunday. For one key reason. I have a deep hatred for my body.  In the group of contenders every week, I find every shape and size.. Color and make….Scars, polkadots, piercings, tattoos. Beards,curls, bald and a very fuzzy wookie.  The creativity and verve.. the erotic in the obvious and the lust in the rare. In the hardest and darkest of days. I would fiddle with my camera to see who was looking back.

I am at what I would consider my most blah ever. New medication and thyroid issues have made me fuller than I would like to be. Due to non stop rain I stopped running. My spark has been low, life tough.  But an incredible thing happened. Two Sundays ago, my Sully took a pic of me and I felt quite pretty, I saw the lust in my eyes as I looked at him. The blush and heat of trusted love, of friendship that became everything more.. And when I posted it on this blog, others saw it as well.  I kept that girl in my head when he took of my shirt instead of diving under the covers. I let him kiss my scars and hold me to him.. I twisted and turned with his form fit body.. pressing all that is lush of me into all that is hard and unyielding in him. I stopped listening to the voice that called me an ugly cunt, a stupid whore, a girl who was cute but never pretty. I recalled my wild. I sang my siren song. I stopped being afraid and hesitant, two words that should never be said in a biographic about me.  And brought Newt Kai back to life.

I admired a pic of corset and how beautiful the woman looked in it.. SO I dug mine out.

I was reminded of the sgian dubh  of formal Scottish dress that Mac had and recalled with great happiness a Bobbie Burns day of the past.

I studied a particular bondage knot with hunger and summoned the courage to whisper secrets in the dark.

I took out my camera manual and learned.

I opened a favourite book of paintings and shared the scantily draped women.

Instead of comparing. I admired. Instead of self loathing I wondered.. what my body was capable of.

I let Sully take shots of me with his camera, watching me grow into a smile again.

The images from the Sinful Sunday participants this past weekend created a pink bubbly haze of need, creativity and want. My Twitter TL teaches me I am never done learning about my sexuality.  My blog reading expands my desire and illuminates my fears and limits. So no, I wont stay silent or shroud my body, this is MY, take back my life blog. Whether I be the curvy slightly plump caution that I am now or the Newty lite version. My skin is baby soft, my lips soft  and wanting. My bottom round and pert, my chin jutted with defiance. My eyes glowing orange, my breast full and peaked. My whole scar covered body is a warriors skin. And my choice is to honor it’s survival and fear it no more.

So don’t even try to steal my naked… For it is my truth.

 

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