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If I could look at and touch these women with fondness and attraction and lust, then I believed they could do the same with me.There’s something magical in that — being two women whose bodies are considered too much, too undisciplined, too far outside the accepted norm, pleasuring one another for the sake of pleasure itself.In that dark place, all we were was two bodies ripe for comparison.It was scary how easy it was to judge myself against her, even in the middle of getting each other off. If I’d had some self-compassion at the time, I could have remembered that none of this is my fault.To learn more or modify/prevent the use of cookies, see our Cookie Policy and Privacy Policy.

I marched down the street with the strip of my stomach that had never before been touched by the sun fully bared.We embrace or belittle, eat or starve — and everyone knows what the general societal preference is in that dichotomy. And it’s only at the Dyke March that I felt okay to do it.I came out at 23 after years of shame surrounding my feelings about women.The only thing separating that outfit from any other I might have worn was three or four measly inches of exposed skin — but you have to understand the weight of those inches.I don’t have a body that’s supposed to wear crop tops. Over the years, my relationship with my body — along with my weight and how I take care of myself — has had its ups and downs.

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