When she was little, and even when she was a teenager, my daughter loved to run her fingertips over my belly stretch marks. They certainly are a nice texture to feel, if I don’t worry about what they look like. I see them on so many people, on their arms or thighs, on men and women, I realize that none of us is perfect. One benefit to never having lost that baby weight (30 years later) is that the stretch marks are below the bulge of my belly, so I can’t see them! Haha. I spend most of my day dressed, and most of my naked time is spent in the dark under the covers. Asleep. So although I am not happy about how I look naked, I don’t fret about it because I know I am the only one who sees me with these over-critical eyes, and most people think I look just fine. With clothes on.
One summer, I went to a waterpark and saw a lot of near-naked bodies there, and it was a revelation. So many shapes! We are all so different, there can be no real standard. And yet we are all so similar in our humanity. Everyone there had kids that they love, and were there to have cooling, wet summer fun. To h… with our insecurities; we are hot! (Both meanings)