You won’t find shame in my home. We deter modesty as well because we know we’re all superstars here. My kids like the feel of skin unencumbered by clothing . When I’m alone I do too, but have consideration enough to want to lower therapy costs and diminish growing mommy issues. I’m not against grandbabies. We sing off key and not well, but with as much fire as we can conjure in the echoes of laminate and tile flooring and walls that have seen us and forgiven us for all we are. I wear a bikini at beaches and in rivers and lakes because I love the tender kisses of the sun on my bare flesh and nothing anyone thinks can steal that from me. I don’t care how comfortable my skin makes other people feel as I don’t have to live in their heads with them. The ink of my flesh paints memories many are not entitled to know and I’m not bothered by curiosity because curiosity didn’t kill the cat, brazen independence did. I know when to ask for help. My body has given life and carried me through so much good and so much bad. Each year of my life has been marked by great joys and tremendous sorrows but those years are mine and I hold them and examine them with longing and the softened eyes of time and there is no name calling. There is no shame in what we look like or the choices we’ve made. I don’t worry about my c-section scar because I can’t see it from where I stand and the scar is in the place where I was marked to save two lives on the verge of loss. Walking through abandonment has given me a voice that I’m no longer running from and words that unfold in my mind before my eyes open each morning. These words tumble out of me, leaving a Cheshire Cat smile in their wake. Wordgasms explode and at the end of my posts there is satisfaction in the fullness of sensation pulling me to the precipice as I gaze into the abyss of all I can’t deny and I launch into the dark with bravery because the light being sought after is within me, and in that there is no shame. There is healing in the reality of existence beneath my flesh and outside of the shadow of someone else’s insecurities and there’s no shame in the bite and swallow that has devoured my yesterdays. You won’t find shame here.