I’m so incredibly curvy at the moment that when I look at my boobs and butt, I get a little turned on even…thats how sexy I’ve become. A loves it obviously and there is a part of me does too.
But I’ve never wanted to be sexy.
I wanted to be tiny and cute and skinny.
I want clothes to hang off my bones, my want my pants to float around my hip bones and I want my waist to be so tiny, I want my ribs to stick out and I want to count them.
I want to be fragile and waif like, floating… delicate.
I want to be held and I want him to run his fingers across my bones, I want him to be so gentle because I might break.
Now he looks at me and thinks I’m so sexy and strong and confident. He loves every curve and stares at me when I’m wearing a low cut top, he touches me all the time and he can’t keep his eyes off my body.
Which is better…which is beautiful. Because I am a woman. And that is beautiful and that is powerful.
But the illness in me still wants to be a weak and fragile fairy like creature…
