#30052021

tomorrow im having pizza for lunch and burritos for dinner and i probs wont be able to complete my 20hr fast so that’s cool :))))))) rip in peace my fasting streak AND cal limit lol

That maybe the reason why you think I’m such a great domme is because I was the first to do that with you, even if just by text?

Or that maybe it might not matter now, but the fact that you’re an ass guy and I’m a boob girl will be an issue in the future, when the honeymoon phase is over and things don’t feel new and exciting anymore? When a prettier, more assertive and mentally healthy, curvier/thicker version of me crosses your path on the street one day?

From all the women in Brazil, the country of asses, you got the one girl who’s got none. And from all the gringos, I got the one who doesn’t mind tits. Isn’t that what incompatibility is?

I know you’re probably sick of having this talk already, but that’s just me, I guess. Always circling back to this, no matter how many talks, reassurances and therapy sessions I have. It always comes back.

Yesterday while you were playing AoE we were talking about pictures and I sent you my fave picture of my tits, and you didn’t acknowledge it. At first I thought maybe you hadn’t seen it, so I sent another and told you to look, and you said “oh there’s another”, and the only thing that you liked about it is that I was flipping you the finger. Isn’t it a bit concerning that me flipping you off is more enticing to you than my body? I know it sounds small and silly, but it’s important to me.

I’m sad and confused so I don’t know what to do with these thoughts and feelings. My two favorite things about myself are being small and having big tits, they’re literally what defines me physically, but we don’t share that feeling. If we had met irl instead of online, we maybe wouldn’t even have gotten together in the first place from how opposite we are in that matter. I’m not complaining though because you love parts of me that I don’t, and it’s one of the most amazing and special feelings I’ve ever had. A new feeling too. But it’s also bittersweet for some reason I can’t explain.

Sometimes I worry you like the me that lives in your head more, physically speaking. I’m not doubting your love or anything, I’m just talking about the physical side of it. It’s the classic LDR fear: I just don’t look as good as the pictures seem. My profile looks terrible and my belly is horrible. my ass is weird, with blemishes and it’s small and skinny, with this weird square shape that’s smaller than my love handles, which definitely puts me into that “muffin top” tier, unfortunately. The body you see in your mind is probably not real, and it might not matter now, at the beginning, but it will someday. It always does. Not having my boyfriends preferred body type doesn’t feel good - not that I was ever perfect for anyone to being with, or that you ever made me feel that way. Much on the contrary actually. You always make me feel better about myself. Pregnancy and stuff just made all these feelings of inadequacy worse, I guess.

Sometimes I wish I was an ass girl. Sometimes I wish you were a boob guy. The main point is that I’m tired of wanting to be perfect because it’s a goal set to fail from the start since it’s not possible. I want to stop wanting to change myself for others. I want to stop hating what I am and already have, never being satisfied with myself. I don’t want to want to change anymore. I don’t want to feel like I should have to. But I do. And it’s corroding me inside, or like two forces on opposite ends tearing me apart in the weirdest way possible. I don’t know what to do with any of this.

And I know this all might sound a bit “aggressive” to you, but it’s really not. None of these things are your fault because in the end we don’t choose what we’re attracted to, it’s no ones fault really. And I don’t resent you or am upset with you or anything. I love you. You’re everything to me and I was never happy with someone else before like I am with you. It just isn’t all sunshine and daisies I suppose. My brains always makes sure of that. Being in my head feels like hell sometimes.

At the end of the day, I’d be a tall big assed girl for you if I could, as pretty as a celebrity too, but I can’t. I know we’ve talked about this before and that you never asked for or expected that from me, but I really would if I could. But I can’t.