Sometimes I think back to that pseudo-boyfriend I had when I was fifteen and how when my leg was in a cast from top to bottom and I had to move home from the student hostel for my recovery he came to my dorm to help me pack and I also was in a skirt I believe because of my cast that I had to put on while he was there. And then later after we “broke up” (I hate implying we were in a relationship like we were but thankfully we did nothing relationshippy not even kiss or anything) I found out he and the girl he was already dating while we were still “together” were laughing about how he saw some of my pubic hair under my knickers when I changed and how disgusting it was.
I was fifteen.
I was in a cast.
That kinda stuff fucked me up so much as a kid it’s incredible no wonder I hate my own body.
Pass Through Fire 