Today was shower day. We tried to plan showering on Monday's and Friday's, but it doesn't always happen the way we want it to. The local YMCA is always willing to lend a hand and waived the $2-$5 charge for the use if hot water.
We have discovered there are a lot less people in the morning's. Those that go in the morning seem to have the same middle aged spread that I have, compared to the taught, jiggle free bodies of the evening work out fanatics so you can more than likely determine for yourself which time we choose to bare our all. For those of you who know us, that is probably not the picture you want embedded in your mind right now. Sorry.
Although I quite fit in with the sea of sagging breasts, and droopy buttocks of the over the hill club, I still feel very much ill at ease undressing in front of anyone. I've got the same spare tire and set of love handles as the rest of the club members, but I still keep under wraps as much, and as long as possible.
It's not the extra weight I carry with me, but the baggage I come with that has me being mortifyingly shy when it comes to my body. It's the emotional scars that keep me from revealing the physical ones. There are some scars I bear proudly; those of motherhood three times over. There are some from birth defect corrections; I was born with a cleft palate, which took 11 surgeries I believe to give me the jaw line I have now. There are even a couple from work related injuries and automobile accidents.
The scars I hide behind three quarter length sleeves, and long pants, no matter how hot it is, are those given by others. Those who proposed to have loved me. Many have faded from visibility, but none of them have faded from my memory. Log on to the following link to read a bit more about what led me to the streets. Finding My Way Home.
We have discovered there are a lot less people in the morning's. Those that go in the morning seem to have the same middle aged spread that I have, compared to the taught, jiggle free bodies of the evening work out fanatics so you can more than likely determine for yourself which time we choose to bare our all. For those of you who know us, that is probably not the picture you want embedded in your mind right now. Sorry.
Although I quite fit in with the sea of sagging breasts, and droopy buttocks of the over the hill club, I still feel very much ill at ease undressing in front of anyone. I've got the same spare tire and set of love handles as the rest of the club members, but I still keep under wraps as much, and as long as possible.
It's not the extra weight I carry with me, but the baggage I come with that has me being mortifyingly shy when it comes to my body. It's the emotional scars that keep me from revealing the physical ones. There are some scars I bear proudly; those of motherhood three times over. There are some from birth defect corrections; I was born with a cleft palate, which took 11 surgeries I believe to give me the jaw line I have now. There are even a couple from work related injuries and automobile accidents.
The scars I hide behind three quarter length sleeves, and long pants, no matter how hot it is, are those given by others. Those who proposed to have loved me. Many have faded from visibility, but none of them have faded from my memory. Log on to the following link to read a bit more about what led me to the streets. Finding My Way Home.
What's the saying? Love never hurts. We all hurt our loved ones once in a while, but with anger, words, actions or lack thereof. Love should NEVER, NEVER hurt physically. If it does, please, tell someone. Call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) or log on to http://www.ndvh.org/ . There is help out there for you.
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