Imperfect

There was one squee worthy thought in my last post that I didn't touch upon because it would have overtaken the rest of the fun. So what am I talking about?

Well, first you need some background information. When I'm around Sir, I'm always put together. Not high maintenance by any means but I have my hair tamed, nice clothing, most of the time make-up on. All the things people do to make a good appearance and to be more desirable.

Yes, He has woken up next to me but that's different. I think He's only seen me not give a shit of what I look like once, when I was having a god awful period a couple months ago. That day, I did not care about anything and He was going to have to live with it. To His credit, He was perfect. That was a one off kind of situation.

So when He wanted me to come over after gardening all day? Ummm, even in gardening clothing? I'm sure there was still dirt on me in several places...

He did and basically eluded to sexy fun times. He didn't care. Not only did He not care, apparently I was still attractive to Him.

That's a big deal and pretty damn fantastic. It's one thing to be found attractive when I'm trying, but a whole other level when I'm just me on an average day.

*squeeeeee*

I was allowed to be imperfect. That level of acceptance is going to do wonders for my self-image and self-esteem. I really do love that man and how He continues to surprise me, in a good way.