Epiphanies at Twenty: I Hate Underwear

This one I realized yesterday at work. I was wearing a set of panties that I had bought because the packaging said that it would never ride up. Do I need to tell you that the packaging lied? It did. It lied. All the panties that I bought with that packaging ride up. That prevents me from walking in peace. It prevents me from living in peace actually. I can’t stand, sit, walk, or stoop down, without having to “fix” my panties every time. And this is in public people! I don’t want to have to pull my underwear from my butt when I’m in public. I’m always having to check if anyone is around or behind me so that no one will see me do it. Sometimes I get a chance to do it quickly, but then I don’t do it right and it’s still there, and I have to keep moving around with the discomfort.

Bras are a problem too, now that I think about it. I have scars from those. Stupid wiring. They’re always coming out of the bras and poking and scraping me, and while they’re in there they squeeze me. Is there some reason I need to go through this? I hate it really. My favourite days are pajama days, where I spend the entire day at home in my pajamas with no bra because I didn’t my change my clothes after I woke up because I didn’t need to. If my panties decide to shift around, I’m at home anyway so I can yank them out without anxiety.

While at work yesterday I was thinking that maybe thongs could be a solution for the shifting panties, but I’d have to be very selective about those because I would have to endure a thin piece of material between my buttocks. They aren’t that bad, but not entirely comfortable either. Larger panties that cover the entire butt are good too. I like those. Most of the clothes that I wear don’t go well with them however, and l don’t see them a lot in stores anyway. I guess I’m doomed then. I’ll have to suffer with underwear for the rest of my life.


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