You asked me a little bit ago if I want pictures of myself in bondage. I was on the fence then and I’m on the fence now.
I can see both sides of the issue. I am admittedly curious as to what I might look like all kitted up for you and ready to play. I am interested in seeing what you see. I also very much want some sort of concrete memory to hold or look at that can’t be relocated to the Hall of Lost Memories. I want that desperately. I would almost go so far as to say it’s a need.
On the other hand, I am not happy with this body. I have shared with you that I’m ashamed of what I see in the mirror. Most of that shame is gone now that I’ve hit my goal weight but I’m still not pleased. I wish that when we lose the body we have in our twenties that we also would lose the memory of it. That is the body I want. That is the body I want to present to you. You deserve better than what was left after childbirth.
I am not blind. I have seen pictures of many of those who are out there. Intellectually, I understand that I take better care of myself than a large percentage. I cannot stop myself from comparing what I am now with what I used to be. I want you to have the best. I do not fit that description in my current form.
I guess the hard truth is that I’m just not brave enough to have this body photographed. Maybe we can start with a mirror. Maybe, if you’re with me. Maybe then you can push me to one side or the other of this fence. Sitting here is becoming uncomfortable.