The first signs of puberty happened really early for me.
I remember sitting in the bathtub one night when I was about 6 or 7 years old, when I noticed a very strange curly hair where there had never been any hair before. You know where I mean; I don't need to spell it out for you. I called my mother into the bathroom and asked her to take a look at this strange invader, and she just smiled knowingly and said "There'll be plenty more where that came from!". She was right, of course, but I had no idea that this weird hair meant that I'd started puberty... or what it would wind up doing to me.
As I said in my previous post, my breasts started growing around the age of 7, and that was a devastating blow to my self-image. Over the next few years, my body started changing in other ways too. My hips started to spread… so much so, that by the time I was 11 my mother referred to them as "child-bearing hips", and she meant that in a very cruel way. The Dairy Section continued to get larger, to the point that my breasts seemed obscenely large on my small frame. And when I was 12, I started having periods. Ugh!
Of all these changes, I'd like to focus on my breasts here. Oi! Cut it out, you pervert!
Anyway, between the ages of 9 and 11, my breasts grew from beestings to B-cups. That might not sound impressive, but I was about 1.3m tall at the time (less than 5 feet in old money) and so they appeared to be disproportionately large on my small frame. I hated them from the moment they first appeared, and I only grudgingly accept their presence now, mainly because they helped me attract Hubby and they did a great job of feeding my babies.
I remember very clearly what it felt like to have enormous breasts on my chest at that tender age, particularly since I was so angry at them from the start. Our school uniform was mandatory dresses for girls, which I hated, so I used to change into my customary t-shirt and shorts combo with takkies (trainers/sneakers) as soon as I got home from school. (In fact, I still do this today; I change into comfy trousers and a t-shirt or sweatshirt when I get home from work).
So if I wanted to go out to visit friends or go to the local shop after school, I had to walk the local streets in my t-shirt & shorts. But I had these enormous breasts under the t-shirt, and I was very uncomfortable with their presence… so I would pull down hard on the hem at the front of my t-shirt in an attempt to squish my breasts as flat as possible.
Unfortunately, there was no way of hiding those enormous jugs, and I'm pretty sure that squishing them with my t-shirt just drew more attention to them… and to me. I recall seeing drivers going past me in the street, particularly men, who would stare at me and at my chest. Bastards… if only they knew how uncomfortable I was with myself, and how much worse their stares were making me feel.
Due to the unwelcome stares of those men, I figured out that squishing my breasts flat with a t-shirt would just attract attention. So for the next few years I tried a different approach: wearing large, baggy t-shirts that would hide not only the worst of my breasts, but my narrow waist and 'child-bearing' hips too.
Provided I wore generic trousers or shorts with a big t-shirt, I could look fairly androgynous.
And I could feel slightly more comfortable with myself. At least, I could when I was dressed. Nothing, however, helps me feel more comfortable about myself when I'm naked.
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