TRAUMA, TITTIES & TBRs –The Body That Betrayed Me

The Body That Betrayed Me (But Might Still Become Mine)- I lost 80 pounds, my tits, and my ass—so why do I feel like I’m still chasing myself?

Episode 4

DEAR SINNERS of the Library of Sin,

You ever look in the mirror and think, “Wait… who is that?”

Not in a cute glow-up kinda way. Not in a “damn, she did that” kind of celebration. But in a raw, feral, “where the fuck did I go?” kind of panic.

This drawer? It’s stitched together with mental health spirals, grief, rage, and glitter-laced healing. Because I’m finally starting to feel myself… but baby, I’m not there yet. This Body betrayed me too many times.

⚖️ The Weight I Lost (And the Parts That Disappeared First)

I’ve lost almost 80 pounds from my heaviest. And yes, that’s a big deal. That’s something to be proud of. But here’s the part no one talks about:

I didn’t just lose fat. I lost my titties. I lost my ass. The best damn parts of me packed up and dipped like, “Good luck, sis.”

Why is it always the tits and booty that go first? Why not the inner thigh chub that causes world wars with jeans?

I’m not mad that I lost the weight. I’m mad that it didn’t come with peace.

Because my reflection changed.But the pain in my head? That stayed. The doubt in my gut? Still here.The grief for the body I had a love-hate situationship with? Loud as hell.

🧠 Mental Health & the Queen in Progress

This body change didn’t magically silence the voices that whisper:

• You’re not enough

• You’re still too much

• People only like you when you shrink

• You’re not sexy anymore without your curves

And no, my brain didn’t get the memo that it was supposed to feel better after the scale moved. Because here’s the truth:

Healing isn’t linear. And weight loss doesn’t equal worth.

🧬 Finally Diagnosed: The AuDHD Reveal That Made It All Make Sense

It took me years to understand myself. Years of asking, “Why don’t people get me?” Why did I feel broken in rooms full of people who were laughing? Why couldn’t I shut up? Or speak at all? Why did my emotions hit like freight trains?

And two years ago, finally, the diagnosis came: AuDHD (Autism + ADHD)

And suddenly, I wasn’t a weirdo. I wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t too much. I was just wired differently.

Maybe that was why they were cruel to me.Because people suck at handling difference.Because neurotypicals love “quirky” until it’s inconvenient.Because no one wants to understand what they can’t easily categorize.

But now I know. And there’s power in knowing.

♥️ How the Dark Romance World Helped Save Me

I didn’t find healing in therapy. I found it in dark romance. In possessive monsters who saw broken heroines and said, “You’re mine anyway.”

I found healing in feral book boyfriends who didn’t flinch at trauma. In women like me—scarred, spicy, loud, unlovable in every “normal” way—and still loved like they were made of magic.

These books? They whispered what the world never did:

“You don’t have to be whole to be worthy.”“You don’t have to be soft to be sacred.”“You’re allowed to take up space—even if it’s messy.”

👑 Final Thoughts from the Throne

So here I am.

80 pounds lighter.

Titties and ass missing in action.

Brain still chaotic.

Heart still aching.

But I’m also… starting to feel her.

The Queen beneath the damage.

The woman who isn’t there yet—but damn it, she’s coming.

And when she gets here?

The world better kneel.

With rage, razor-sharp eyeliner, and one long side-eye to my lost curves,

Elle, The Queen of Smut

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