I hit a low yesterday. Out of nowhere. I just became sad and lonely. I was fine all week being alone. I actually enjoyed it. And then bamn I’m upset with my boyfriend for not chatting to me. And my upset means I’m holding back affection. I’m not responding to his I love yous because I’m not feeling love.
I read this article about teaching your kids about consent (http://www.upworthy.com/5-everyday-ways-to-teach-your-kids-about-consent?c=ufb2) and as I read it I got really sad and started crying.
I was a sickly child. So I’ve been told. And recently I remembered a moment that really affected me. The article talks about teaching a kid that their body is there’s and respecting their decisions. I’m sure I was just grabbed and jabbed as a kid.
But I remember when i was 13, I had sprouted boobs a year earlier and my neurologist had noticed a sound in my neck and said I should get an ultrasound of my heart.
My dad took me. And I remember being braless and cold in front of three men. And one man lifted my breast and dropped it like Nicolas cage in birdie. I hated that moment. I felt a million emotions like embarrassed and ashamed and I told myself just let them because it’s a medical exam. Don’t be stupid and make it something it’s not.
This resulted in me, four years later, going to a tailor to get an outfit sewn. I was 17, I kissed one boy in my life and that was as far as my man experience had gone. No one had touched.
And there i was, behind a curtain, with my mum on the other side. This guy saying he’d put my outfit right. I remember this moment as if I was watching it through a glass. He touched me. Rubbed his hands on my boobs and vagina and got excited. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t ask him to stop. I didn’t know it was wrong. All I knew was that I was uncomfortable but that didn’t mean much to me so I let it continue.
After that it was a stream of men I didn’t know and me just letting them touch me as they wanted to, where they wanted to. I didn’t have sex or go anything sexual til I was 24 but men had seen me naked.
Ironic considering I was too self conscious to swim cos I didn’t want people to see me.
Even last year when a friend who asked me to come over and drink during a space my bf and I were fighting and then pinned me down when I was drunk and pulled off my pants as I said no, I apologised to him. Because I felt I misled him. Even though when I left his place I felt the emotions one feels when raped.
I’m 29 and as the youngest I still don’t have much of a voice with my family.
My fat is my protection from the world. From pain. From everything I want to be.
I was thinking I need to see a psychologist to deal with all this so that I can lose weight. so that I can forgive myself. So that I can establish a love with my body. So that I can have a voice. But they’re too expensive and medical aid doesn’t pay.