When I was a kid I would wipe my ass with towels that were hanging up.

This is something I’ve never admitted to a single person. <br><br>I’m not sure at what age I stopped doing this, but throughout most of my childhood I had this OCD compulsion where every time I would finish wiping I would stand up, walk over to the towel rack and give it one or two more thorough swipes. I couldn’t not do it. I felt unclean if I didn’t. <br><br>It wasn’t until I got a little bit older that I realized just how fucking fucked up it was. My older siblings spent their entire childhoods drying their faces off with my shitty remains. <br><br>I’ve been mortified about it for years but I’m actually in tears of laughter writing this out right now.<br><br>Edit: Nobody was supposed to see this.