I wish this story had a happy end. Of self-love. Of body-acceptance. Of forgiveness. Of kindness. But when can anyone be sure when 'The end' actually is? I do not know why I am writing this story to strangers on the internet. Do I expect empathy or sympathy? I don't know. Or catharsis? The thing is I want to put it out there, push it out there. So that hopefully it no longer feels like the narrative is clawing and tearing apart my heart, my mind, me. With that, here goes. We are our body parts, sometimes more, but mostly that. Beyond everything else, our identity, our worth, particularly for a young woman, is miserably tied to how we look -the sculpt, angles, tones, textures and curvatures of our body parts. No matter how much I try to rationalize that I am something, someone beyond how my body parts define me, my fragile self-worth often hangs on my one body part, my 36D breasts. I was the juicy melon,  the ripe mangoes they would love to squeeze, the pillow they would love to bury their face in, the idealized 36-28-36. 36D I proudly proclaimed to the store assistants at the lingerie stores. Every first glance of a stranger fell on my breasts. Judge me but I felt the cheap thrill, of feeling wanted and/or envied by both men and women for my breasts.  For an average looking person like me, my boobs were the only part of my body that felt validated and coveted. But only I knew the shame I harboured underneath my near perfect boobs. First started the never ending grazes, pinches and squeezes in public. Then the ones from the teacher who called me his daughter. Then came eczema, the skin condition that began to eat at my skin, then my self-esteem. My areoles bore the brunt, leaving ugly scar marks around my nipples that never quite healed. On the outside they still got me validation but more often I started feeling like a fraud. But even a damaged 36D deserves love right? Nudes with the ex never got beyond the cleavage shot or one in the one good bra, tactfully shot at angles avoiding the areoles. (1/2) #brownbodies #womensbodies #digitalart #procreate  #illustration #illustrator #feminism #feminist #bodypositive  #art #artist #eczema
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To the girls fixing each other’s crowns, I salute you 💫 👑 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #girlgang #team #femalearmy #girlssupportgirls #queen #womenempoweringwomen #community #tribe #wom#woman #feminist #woman #leader #boss #culture #babessupportingbabes #girlboss #bossbabe #bossbabescollective #friday #weekend
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Lesbian separatism was a curiosity even at its peak in the early 80s. This collection is initially compelling for how it might counter the trajectory of third wave feminism; i.e. trans inclusive, anti-essentialist, kink and sex positive, the authors might have wanted a very different outcome. If you don't relate to this jargon, consider this book an experiment in living outside of the worlds you hate. Revel in the micro-pressed mimeograph passion of writers who had no other choice. I would put it on the shelf next to the Turner Diaries, or some other extremist text, but these fanatics can actually engage with rigor #book #bookstagram #feminist
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