This looks just lovely.  Those are lovely breasts that gravity hasn’t had much of a chance to mistreat.  Not that gravity is a cruel bitch or anything.  But she is.  Always pulling.  Keeping our feet on the ground.  And dragging down our soft bits.

This lovely lady, however, has only had the benefits of gravity so far in her life.  Good for her.  I hope she realizes what she has now, before it’s gone.  Or at least closer to the ground.

All those women who say they posed new when their bodies were looking their best?  Yeah, I get it.  I certainly have never had a nude posing-worthy body, but I wish I knew what I had when I had it.  When I was a size 7 I thought I was fat.  Silly me.  I always thought I was fat, probably because I thought I looked like my mother, who was fat, and because I didn’t look like my sister or my step-sister, who were both very skinny.

While I wish I knew what I had when I had it, I’m glad I have what I have now, even if it’s not perfect.  Not even close to perfect.  I have a funky toenail and flat feet; I miss shaving a few hairs near each ankle bone most of the time; I have a biopsy scar on one calf and a 1990s “tribal” tattoo on the other; I have shitty knees that hurt more when I’m going downhill than up; my thighs are … not slim, but they are strong; I have more body hair than I’d like; my stomach isn’t flat; my hips aren’t small; my breasts aren’t as perky as I’d like; my arms are not well defined; I have a big nose; I have acne; my hair is almost too thick (yes, I know this is one of those complaints for which some will hate me); I require corrective lenses; I grind my teeth.  Not even close to perfect.  But I’m me.

So I’m looking forward to my 37th year.  Happy birthday to me.

I swear.  True story.

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