I tried really hard.
I wore high collar shirts.
I wore long jeans.
I made myself as plain, unexceptional, and as modest as I could.
My dad still sexually abused me.
I am done letting people blame their lust on me. Because nothing I do can help you.
How God designed me doesn't make you sin.
I am not an open bar tab you can keep charging dirty thoughts to without repercussions.
God sees how you're thinking about his daughter. Act like a grown man and take responsibility for yourself.
If you can't look at attractive women without sinning, repent, pray, and get help.
Me wearing a one-piece to the beach won't save you. It won't stop your heart hemorrhaging sin. Only Jesus Christ can do that. Not my wardrobe.
I own mine.
No more of this channeling Adam, "B-b-but the woman you gave me, she was attractive and I thought a bad thing."
I am not your Eve, and you are not my husband.
Don't put me on a pedestal as if I can live some Norman Rockwell quasi-Chistian ideal.
My husband is proud of how I look, and for the first time in my life, I am too. No one can take that from me.