Modesty, or lack thereof

Have you ever seen a 350 lb man mowing the lawn in a Speedo? That would be my dad. He was never much for clothes. I suppose we were lucky that he tromped around the house in underwear versus nothing at all. He is the eccentric man who goes out to eat in pajama bottoms. If you come over unannounced, he would answer the door in his underwear. He didn’t care if people were over. Mom had to remind him to close the door when using the bathroom. Nudity really wasn’t a big deal, it was natural. Almost normal growing up. If you could call how I grew up normal in any way. 

My mom was more modest. She had really bad varicose veins and still does after surgery. She said that 30 hours of back labor would do that to you.  I guess I am lucky to have had 3 c-sections. After 30 hours of labor, my brother Matt entered the world with a broken clavicle bone. Talk about intense labor. My mom would always wear pants in summer. If she wore shorts, she would wear nylons under them so no one could see her “ugly” veins. 

When my autistic brother Matt hit puberty, he had some modesty issues as well. He would often stand at the end of the driveway and expose himself to whoever went by. My grandma had 2 little girls that lived next door. Any time they were around he would drop his pants and wiggle his penis at them which elicited lots of giggles. You probably now understand why I do not embarrass easy or why I never had a lot of friends over growing up. Yes, my brother exposed himself to a couple of friends while my dad waltzed around in his underwear. To make matters worse, Matt would traipse around the house in an old bridemaid’s dress of my mothers. After complaining to my mom about this, she said who is he hurting and just let him. 

On the flip side, no one cared what I left the house wearing. Short mini skirt, no problem. Sometimes I have to ask my husband. Is this too short? Is this too low cut? 

Since I also helped with Matt’s care, part of that included showering him. While other college kids were out partying on a Saturday night, I was showering my brother. Did I mention that he refused to wipe himself? He has tactile sensitivity to toilet paper and napkins. He also will not aim himself while peeing, which created a messy bathroom. Mom always told visitors that the condensation from the toilet was causing the leakage. It was a good possibility that if you got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom that you would step in pee. And that is why I could care less if my husband puts the toilet seat down. That is probably also why when Aunt Grace needed showering and diaper changes when she got old that I showed no hesitation either. What is normal? I am still trying to figure that one out. 

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