I came from a very covered family. My father didn’t even allow stocking feet in the house. It’s an issue I am struggling with. I get aggressive when I see unexpected bareness. It’s difficult for me to control. I’m working on it and have recently discovered the freedom of sleeping only in my underpants. It’s a small step but a big one for me.
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It`s always the small things that really count.
small steps lead to big ones…glad you are slowly enjoying your new found freedom
I still can’t sleep in anything less than shorts and a T-shirt. 2 years ago was the first time in my life I wore a no sleeve shirt and a skirt…my family wasn’t even sure I had legs.
Sometimes when im forced to be nude i look down and realize that there is a hole in my stomach where a tube was force feeding me in my mother’s hideous filthy womb.
If only i could have cut the cord while i was in there, or perhaps could have tied it shut or something.
Thats nudity to me, wretched rotting flesh, and the sheer strangeness of the human form, and mortality, fragility, and a stank that only a fly could love and im forced to repeatedly and desperately wash and hide from others.