❤️💜

I am beautiful. I believe I am beautiful. I think I am beautiful. Am I beautiful?

I am 40 years old. I’ve never questioned my beauty. My sexiness. My ability to feel amazing in front of another person. Yet, I couldn’t in this moment feel more ugly and more disgusting (and not in a good way) then I do now.

I don’t need messages or likes. I don’t need reblogs or sympathy but I.... am.... tired.

In this moment I hate tumblr. And yet, here I am spilling my thoughts cause it’s like minded people that may get it. I see these photos of all these amazing pictures. Things He likes. Things that he finds sexy and that turn him on. Things I thought I could fulfill.

I was that this morning.

Im lost.

I shouldn’t feel the way I do but I do. We all have off days. We all have moments that trip us up and cause confusion in our relationship and in our hearts. We move on. We all do and we will too. Yet sometimes those moments, those feelings stick with us somewhere in the bottom of our soul.

I have nothing to hide.

I am an open book.

I may not fuck another girl again.

I may not wear sexy stockings every day.

My body may be different then it was 6 years ago.

I may not be able to all the things I dream we would someday do...

It doesn’t mean I don’t love or serve any less then the people in these blogs. I see them. I take note. I ache to please.

I try everyday. To serve well. To give space and quiet. To be sexy. To be as sexy as one possibly can be.

I’m just living.