Coming from a pretty conservative upbringing, there was always a sense of shameful inappropriateness that surrounded my body and the level of comfort with public nudity.
In your most beautiful moments, in between the minutes of dawn, when the sun rises over you and illuminates the curves of your skin in soft gold hues and glimmers.
Decked out in graphic T-shirts from Abercrombie with roll-on-glitter covering my eyelids and a big smile sporting a whole lot of colorful metal, I thought I was hot shit. Now, I have no idea what I was thinking.
I didn’t have my first kiss until I was 18. I didn’t even have my first hug until I was 18. My parents never hugged or kissed. That’s ok.
I waited for the elevator to make its way to the ground floor of the parking garage.