I'm a 47 year old mother of 3 children.
As a child I was shaped like a string bean, lanky & gangly. My grandpa used to put his forefinger and thumb around my upper arm and say "chicken bones", with a little smile. I didn't mind. I was not self conscious or concerned at all about how I looked. I was strong enough to pummel my bother and beat other kids in races and climb trees. That's all that mattered.
I had a favorite pair of jeans, red demim...really nice fit and comfy. I wore them all the time until one day around age 12 or 13 I noticed they were starting to feel a little snug. I squeezed into them anyway and zipped them up. But they were not comfy anymore. Then came that awful day when I could not find my red jeans. I thought that my mom might have taken them to wash. When I went downstairs I found my red jeans...on my little brother! I was furious. I demanded that he take them off and give them back. My mother stuck up for him and said that the red jeans don't fit me anymore so she gave them to my brother. He made a mean comment about my bum getting fat and I decided I would have to pummel him later.
It was a sad fact, my behind was growing...as well as my hips and boobs. Not my idea of something to celebrate. It did not help that my brat of a brother was constantly making comments and making me self conscious about my changing body. I was the oldest so no one was there to show me that everything was normal and ok. I felt like a fat freak. I had always been skinny and boyish. My mother was the type who didn't have much to say about the issue, and felt uncomfortable with my changes too.
I grew into a healthy curvy teenager who happened to get a LOT of attention from the boys because of my shape. The transition from "Tomboy" to "Sex Object" was sudden and unexpected...however I was curious about exploring this new identity of mine and learned how to appreciate the reactions to my blossoming body and play up to them, even the inappropriate attention from grown men. I never did anything, but I had a rampant reputation as a huge flirt. I think that is why I can relate to Marilyn Monroe and "be" her (my alter ego) sometimes.
I was not a bad kid, but I did enjoy being the only girl in a group of boys. It was the only attention I could get that was not negative. Everyone else seemed to be angry at me for no good reason. So naturally I liked the boys because they really liked me! They treated me nicely. So I hung out with them all the time. This of course led to my reputation as a slut. The fact is I didn't even sleep with a man until I was 18. But who cares, it seemed my only friends were those boys who had crushes on me and put me up on a pedestal. My brother used to be my buddy and playmate, but he couldn't even be around me without showing his disgust for my development...no fault of my own, but his immature mind was not coping with it, and my family did not help by buying into the hype about me being a slut.
I grew a thick skin early on and learned that I only had myself to answer to. I knew those boys were only vying for my attention because they were horny little teenagers, but whatever. We were all cool and friends. The boys I really liked didn't care much for my looks...they were my crushes because they didn't seem to be interested in the outside. I had to be real with them and it was hard to do that because I had gotten lazy, relying on my body and face to speak for me. Funny and ironic.
It took me years to understand that my beauty was inside all the time. I know I'm funny. I'm smart. I'm creative. I'm a good person. I didn't know that about myself until fairly recently.
At the moment I feel I'm a few pounds over my personal ideal weight, which doesn't mean I'm fat. I love my curves, and don't mind shaking my stuff in public. I just see myself a certain way and I'm striving to meet my own personal goal for fitness and strength. I want to sprint, climb trees, swim in the ocean, learn new physical tricks that require flexibility and agility.
I'm still a bit of a tomboy even if I have a Marilyn Monroe body.
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