Taking My Own Nudes: Not Quite Empowerment, but Almost.

I was topless, staring at the image I made in the dim natural light. My hair had gotten long, and some of it was laying across my shoulders, hitting just above my breasts. My ashy, light brown roots (a newer development that came with age, since I’d been a dark blond for most of my life) had really grown out, but still faded relatively gracefully into the golden blond my hairdresser will soon touch up. I was wearing my glasses, and a simple pair of black pants, hitting right at my waist. It was a rare moment wherein I saw a view of my body that wasn’t repulsive. It was soft, feminine, and almost artistic with the lines and shapes created by the window and blinds. I itched to capture it, and pulled out my phone. I took three shots, my hands hugging around me to cover my nipples while the shape of my breasts was still partially visible, plump and curved. <a href="https://medium.com/@thecelibateslut2023/taking-my-own-nudes-not-quite-empowerment-but-almost-fa8879f10680">Website</a>