I am altered.

We’re forever altered from the healing, from the pain, from the experience of life and love.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ve healed at all; I am so marred, so mangled, so marked.

I am a walking, talking scoreboard of my life.

So much to see.

 

 

Click the lips for all the other amazingness out there.

Sinful Sunday

A 40-something single mother who writes honestly about sex, body image, D/s, relationships, her nervous tics, and how much she loves to fucking fuck. She also likes to show you her tits.

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11 thoughts on “I am altered.
  1. Dear Hy,

    I realize you probably mean more than just the physical / outwardly-evident “scarring” (just the average what-life-does-to-every-human-body stuff)..

    Lots of excellent responses above already, so I won’t repeat..

    I will say this though:
    It shouldn’t be any other way. It couldn’t.
    Our lives are our own; each of ours, unique. Our “scars” are testaments to everything we’ve survived along the way. The fact you get up again after any kind of “fall”, and get going again — your never-say-die naure — speaks to your Strength, which is most admirable, and contributes to your Beauty. :)

    We may not necessarily “heal”, but we DO Learn. xx

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