This whole thread & men in general (based on experiences, not essential maleness…maybe, what do I know?) make me want to get fat(ter) on purpose as a sort of forcefield or armor.
But. I have opposing forces which prevent it. Crikey.
Anyway. I suppose I’m fat enough.
Keep plonking, Sculptor. It lets me know I’m where I need to be. You’re like my north star.
No one is slag. He doesn’t feel whole & has stuff to work through so he is at peace with himself instead of lashing out when the dissonance is triggered.
Most times, so not always… but right now, my mind dictates I do… and I’m going wit that.
So being pragmatic… so matter-of-factly… so without being influenced by emotion. I’ve always been that kinda gal… despite what others here, think I’m like.