So today a (balding, beer-bellied) client took it upon his creepy self to suggest: "You could really improve your figure if you started walking every day
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I got to the point of acceptance when a male-bodied, crossdresser friend of mine and I had the very same dress -- a cute black and red cheongsam. And, you know, I had thought I looked pretty good in mine, but it was always one of the more difficult things to wear, because I'm fairly short and I don't have a perfectly flat belly. And then he put it on his six-foot-tall, coathanger-thin self, and he looked beyond fabulous in it. And I realized that no matter how many crunches I did, no matter what control undergarments I wore, I would never in my life be a six-foot-tall BOY.
So I work with what I've got, instead, and don't try to fool myself into thinking that if I JUST did a, b, or c, I could look that way myself.
Exactly! I'm not a size six, nor do I want to be or will ever be, based on my bone structure. (I have a damn huge frame, I'd be lucky to be a twelve, honestly, if I had any desire to try to get down to one.) I wear what makes me happy and don't bother making myself miserable wishing I am something I'm not.
It was so absurd I think he could probably hear the gears screech to a halt in my head. Especially seems how I was encouraging him to keep remembering to take his meds at night...
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So I work with what I've got, instead, and don't try to fool myself into thinking that if I JUST did a, b, or c, I could look that way myself.
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