When I met Jack I was just barely 21 and if I may say so had a killer body. I was self-conscious of my body back then not because of the body itself but because I was shy and insecure about everything in my life. Needless to say, I was not an active participant in the era of the sexual revolution. Until I met Jack it was mostly "nope it ain't gonna happen" The few times it did, it was lights out under the blankets.
Jack made me feel beautiful and with him I didn't have body issues. As I matured, had children, gained weight, lost weight, gained weight, lost weight, you get the picture, Jack never made me feel anything less than beautiful.
Later in life when I got my mother's body, I really wasn't concerned. I figured Jack was an active participant in the pregnancies that left me with the stretch marks, sagging breasts and a C-section scar that runs from my belly button down. With the pouch it looks as if I have an ass coming and going. Now the one man who didn't see all that, the one man who I had no qualms about being naked in front of is gone. I am like oh shit, what am I going to do now.
Later in life when I got my mother's body, I really wasn't concerned. I figured Jack was an active participant in the pregnancies that left me with the stretch marks, sagging breasts and a c-section scar that runs from my belly button down. With the pouch it looks as if I have an ass coming and going. Now the one man who didn't see all that, the one man who I had no qualms about being naked in front of is gone. I am like oh shit, what am I going to do now.
My once size 38 breasts are now a 38 long. Due to the excessive pregnancy weight gains then the massive weight loss, I have meme" arms, I wave one way they wave the other. In addition to the double ass I mentioned above, I have to adjust my back side to sit down. I have so many stretch marks I bet if you traced them you would have a road map of NH. OMG my thighs are like saggy meat pants, I would love to be able to pull them up to get the wrinkles out. Gravity, age and pregnancy are a bitch.
I will never, ever. ever feel comfortable getting naked in front a man ever again. Heck, I don't even like getting naked alone in my own bedroom. Even if I someday found someone that I could care about, and we did the lights out, under the covers braille method of sex, it would be embarrassing trying to keep my breasts from disappearing under my arm pits. I think the only smooth, non-cellulite ridden, stretch mark covered, or taut skin part of my body is my back. That part of my body is in really good shape. Maybe I could find a man with a back fetish.
I have decided I will never have sex again. It would be too much work trying to contort my body so its parts are reasonably close to where they should be.
Several of my cousins and I were sitting around a table once and we were talking about love, marriage and sex. I said If anything happened to Jack and me, I would never have sex again because of my body. My most beloved cousin shared this pearl of wisdom, " don't worry for men as long as it has a hole that's all we care about". After I stopped choking on my drink I thought about it but didn't buy it and said I was just glad I had Jack and we would always be together so it is a moot point.
Now that I think about it, could he be right, is it my own insecurities that make me want to hide my body. Or could it be our culture which makes women feel self-conscious if they don't have the perfect body. I look at women from other cultures who, have bodies like mine and they are in bikinis and going topless and don't care.
I guess the solution is to tuck my 38 longs into a good bra and move to a country that cherishes a woman with battle scars for their maturity and lives they brought into the world. That and a very large bottle of wine just might get the job done.