I know it isn't Friday, but I love this image. Parts of me seem determined to escape the net. Who is going to net me? PS - yes I know I also forgot the purple prompt. *facepalm*
"I'm still riding the happy waves of having my hands and mouth on your tits"Honey
Sometimes I find myself struggling with feelings of 'not enough'. Not just the background hum of 'am I enough?', which I have worked hard to banish as much as is possible, but a feeling of there not being enough of what I need. I am hungry for life, and living, and connection, and love, and... Continue Reading →
Every time I think I am beginning to make progress, something puts me right back here again.
I've been doing a lot of growing lately. Growing is hard. You have to be willing to lie under the soil for a while, in the cold and dark, but it is oh so sweet to see those shoots finally begin to peek up through the soil.
We painted our bathroom recently. The blue has made it feel so much better.
CW: dysmorphia I'm still learning to love my boobs. There was a time, some years ago now, that I hated them so much that I wanted them removed. They didn't feel right for me, and I just needed them gone really really badly. They didn't fit the image I had of myself, the one that... Continue Reading →
I've put my new tit tape to good use.
One of the most famous words in Portuguese that doesn't translate into English very well is saudades. It is also the one that is perhaps most needed, as it means the feeling of 'missing'; usually someone, or something (my translation). Instead of talking about an absence, as we do in English, the Portuguese speakers have... Continue Reading →