I'm too sexy for my... chair
Sexy. One word I don't use to describe myself. Hot, maybe. But sexy, no.
It's not that my body image has changed since I've started using a wheelchair. I've always had a very healthy ego, sometimes too healthy for my own good.
It's just that, for me, sexy has always been associated with what I'm wearing. High heels (f*ck me boots!), short skirts, stuff like that.
But when using a wheelchair, it's all about two things: comfort and dirt.
Using a wheelchair is dirty business. My hands are basically my feet. They touch the wheels, which are touching the floor. My hands, even with fingerless gloves on, become filthy.
In turn, my pants get filthy where ever I touch them with my hands. The sides of my pants also rub on the wheels, getting dirty skidmarks on them.
So, no high heels, no short skirts for me. It's jeans and a t-shirt and that's it.
But I still look hot. So there.
It's not that my body image has changed since I've started using a wheelchair. I've always had a very healthy ego, sometimes too healthy for my own good.
It's just that, for me, sexy has always been associated with what I'm wearing. High heels (f*ck me boots!), short skirts, stuff like that.
But when using a wheelchair, it's all about two things: comfort and dirt.
Using a wheelchair is dirty business. My hands are basically my feet. They touch the wheels, which are touching the floor. My hands, even with fingerless gloves on, become filthy.
In turn, my pants get filthy where ever I touch them with my hands. The sides of my pants also rub on the wheels, getting dirty skidmarks on them.
So, no high heels, no short skirts for me. It's jeans and a t-shirt and that's it.
But I still look hot. So there.
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The WillaWoman
The WillaWoman