Flesh

It’s new to me. The flesh that occupies what was once a bony physique. To the naked eye, it appears in all the right places; fuller C-cup bust, widened hips, a derriere that cuffs under to meet the tops of my thighs. My walk—two parts strut, one part bounce—is accompanied by light jiggling, evoking hungry glares where there was once passive appreciation.

My long, lean build remains long and lean. Stripping down tells a slightly different story. There’s a light layer of flesh around my midsection. Small folds on my once-smooth back. “It’s the cost of a curvier frame,” I’m told. This doesn’t stop me from frowning when I stare too hard in the mirror.

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Skinny Bits 5.11.13

This week in the world of SBG:

Last Friday while out and about after seeing Iron Man 3 (I went at 10:45 am. Yes, the thirst was real and yes, the movie was dope), I wandered into Marshalls to do some window shopping and learned that lo and behold, my body has curved out and aged into women’s wear. I tried on a size 2 coral wrap dress from Ralph Lauren’s Lauren line and it hugged my boobs and hips like a dream. It took every shred of restraint in my soul not to walk out of the store with that dress, but I left with something just as satisfying: happiness that I’m no longer shaped like a wiry teenager. 
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