Within Emptiness

 There's something freeing about sleeping naked, I was never really able to do it even when I lived alone. I thought it was a great sin. My brain couldn't relax with the thought of being naked. Not that I was scared of being seen. That wasn't the only part. I was scared of my own naked form. The way my shoulders slouch, my stomach sticks out, the hairs and the scar on my butt. The shape of my pubic bone and the slightly darkened skin. My hip dips and my lack of a thigh gap. And it wasn't just fear of not being perfect. There was an innate shame enmeshed into possessing a body with a vulva and breasts and hair. When I hit puberty I started getting freaked out about my body. I thought I had the ugliest body there is. By 14 I had completely given up on ever finding love or having sex. And the worst part was I thought it was my fault. My bits look like this because I masturbate! That's probably why I'm still so uncomfortable with sex. But that's a story for anot...