Stretch Marks

I don't know why I want to talk about stretch marks, but I'm getting it out there.

I have stretch marks. I have plenty of them. They don't bother me. I don't know when I got them. I don't remember ever having red stretch marks on my body. My stretch marks are pretty much the same color as the rest of me. They are not bad.

I have heard that men don't care about stretch marks, and part of me can totally see that, but part of me finds that hard to believe. Sometimes it seems that a lot of men have very high standards and don't want even the slightest blemishes or imperfections on women. These men tend to be young and/or single. Ben Folds sang about Stephen who couldn't love a woman with cellulite. I can't imagine Stephen would be okay with stretch marks.

I don't know what people in general think of stretch marks, on themselves, on other people, or on their mates.

I once saw a nude, erotic picture of a woman whose front side was covered with silky red-purple stretch marks, most likely from pregnancy. It felt like the first time I'd ever seen stretch marks like that. Before, I'd only ever seen my own stretch marks and didn't know how overwhelming they could be on someone. Frankly, I thought they were beautiful, amazing. But I also realized that if I had them on me, I would very self-conscious about them, I would probably hate them. Then again, I hate tattoos - at least these stretch marks went with the contours of the body.

I saw my brother's belly recently and saw that he had a lot of stretch marks. He's not an overweight person, but he must have gained a lot of weight rather abruptly at one point in time. He has many red stretch marks.

I wonder what makes stretch marks different on one person from another. Like I said, mine don't bother me and I'm grateful for that. I really don't hear people talk about stretch marks that much. Maybe everyone's at peace with them like I am.