Skin Hunger and the Taboo of Wanting to be Touched
How can I say that I fear I’ll never date again without feeding the monster? No one owes me their touch; I am starving for it just the same.
ThisisAn Unquiet Mind, a monthly column by s.e. smith that explores disability identity and its interaction with the world at large.
But when did I last see the babyshift not
No one owes me their touch; I am starving for it just the same.
Failure, failure, failure.
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Those who spend their lives in bodies others deem unworthy grow accustomed to building our own self-worth.
It is not so much that these things are invisible as it is that people are trained to hide them, and society is conditioned to look away from them.
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It is very rare, as a disabled person, that I have an intense sense of belonging, of being not just tolerated or included in a space, but actively owning it.