I was full figured at a tender age which didn’t help because by the time I was a teenager I had already explored and experienced things that were well beyond my years. These experiences gave me this entitled sense of maturity and at 13 years old I was a smart, beautiful monster who hadn’t even known it yet.
The truth is growing up I was disgusted with myself. I was smart (because quite frankly I had no choice growing up in my strict yet completely detached family because getting good grades was how the children stayed off Mom’s radar), but no-one cared about my math grades and ability to articulate except my Mother who looked just to make sure they were above average. Men who touch little girls do not care how well you do long division or worse how well you can construct a Haiku let alone spell the damn word. I had no clue what about me could possibly be attractive. I saw my full figured body as”big” & “fat”and my ability to attract the opposite sex as apparently all I was good for. I told myself that the sheer size of my body led Men to thinking I was older than I truly was but that wasn’t true, just something I told myself to cope….they had all been at every birthday party from the day I knew myself.
I know by now you must be saying how in the hell did this go on? Who’s watching this child? Who’s in charge of the home? Where is her Father?
No-one knew. I was a part of a much larger mechanism, that had many many moving parts and I just was not one of the parts that was focused on primarily. Sad to say but true. Despite what you may think My Mother is a phenomenal woman, she is strong, patient, kind and understanding but she was stressed too. She had no clue what was really wrong with her baby girl but with so many other kids, a cheating husband who was innately an asshole, no money, no way out. I saw my mother make the decision that if she couldn’t make us truly happy then she would make us tough so that we could make ourselves happy in the future. She had to make us tough for us. Not mentally gushified with sit downs and head rubs, but tough enough to know that shit sucks but wake up the next day and keep rolling with the punches. She brought me through this.
What about everyone else?
I had people who said I was “fast” but never really dug in to find out why they just wrote me off as a “fast ass little girl, who watched way too much tv” Little did they know these things I said and reenacted on my pillows and teddies weren’t things I had seen on tv but things I had already done and wanted to do again. I missed the touch and feel of wrong, completely wrong felt good to me, I was used to it at this point, it was a part of me and what made me comfortable.
Fast forward to 16 and I officially lost my virginity, to a BOY I ACTUALLY LOVED. Of course he was older than me, of course he treated me badly and cheated and lied to me but I was contempt in my false happiness and his lies because I needed that emotional comfort as little and fake as it was…..I needed it.