My mother called me yesterday morning to chit chat. She asked me what I did over the weekend. I answered, "ohh, I worked, I went to a barbecue, wreck beach, met up with some old friends last night..." etc etc.

She called me back later that afternoon with the following to say:(paraphrased)

"I just wanted to tell you that I've been very upset all afternoon thinking about you going to Wreck beach. I would have thought that you would make better moral choices than that. I want you to know that I disapprove, I want you to make good, right, righteous choices in your life. Things that you won't look back on and regret. You need to conduct yourself with better behaviour, more morality, more modesty." And she went on like that.

I argued with her, trying to get from her a good reason why nudity was immoral. She had no answer for me, other than there were people parading around naked and immorally and that the men were probably thinking terrible things.

She basically gave me the argument "it's wrong because it is".

Which I don't buy and have never bought.

That's not the worst part. She told my grandmother that I had gone to a nude beach. My grandmother spent the afternoon crying and crying and when I called her, she called me disgusting and immoral. She said if I promised never to go again, she would forgive me. FORGIVE ME!! As if I had done anything that warranted an apology to anyone. and after a little bit more conversation, she hung up on me.

I got angry at my mother for telling my grandmother when she knew that the old lady would be upset. She said, well, if you don't want people to find out about things, don't do them. As though I knew that what I was doing was wrong and evil and was trying to hide them from people. If that were true, I wouldn't have mentioned it in the first place would I you fucking BITCH.

I asked my mother why Wreck Beach was immoral. She said it just is, etc, it's all part of the downward spiral of mankind. I asked her if she'd ever been there. She said no. So I said, "you don't really know what you're talking about then, do you?"

My mother is a born again Christian if you all remember. I even tried to get her at her own game. I said "ok, well, let's bring God into it then. In your opinion, do you deny that god made our bodies? (she said yes he did) Then why would a perfect God make something so immoral and evil?" she countered with "he also gave us clothes to cover ourselves", to which I replied "yes, to protect us from wind and rain and heat and the elements and things, not because our bodies are evil and immoral."

I have spent my entire life trying to get over the hatred of my own body. I have despised my flesh for as long as I can remember, thinking it ugly, fat, horrible, substandard, not good enough. Only now, at this stage in my life am I starting to love myself, and realize that I'm not disgusting and ugly. Being naked is part of this. Being able to take my clothes off somewhere where other naked humans can see me without feeling like I want to crawl into the sand and die because I'm so ugly.

I have never felt more comfortable in my own skin in my entire life. When I was at that beach, I felt happy, content, unselfconcious, beautiful, natural, real. REAL.

Sometimes I think that all the weird shit in my relationship with my mother is my fault, that maybe I'm too sensitive. But when things like this happen, I know better. I know that she's been fucking with my head since day fucking one. And my grandmother is just as manipulative.

I'm tired. I'm tired of it. The only person I truly truly care to be in touch with is my little brother, and I will fight hard to maintain that, but as for my mother, I'm done. I'm done defending myself.

Maybe that's it. I just have to stop fighting. Stop fighting for jackrabbit, stop fighting for love from people I'm not going to get it from. It's sucking the life out of me.

I feel so totally defeated.

*Game Over. Insert Quarter*