My Body

 

Sunday December 10, 2023

    

        I had a few topics I wanted to cover this week, However I decided chronologically it makes most sense to address major circumstances in my childhood, then how that impacted my young adult decision making and have the followup be my healing journey. I can't fully separate it all, I am not a professional writer. My writing was just encouraged heavily the semester before graduating college so here I am. If I am being fully honest with myself this blog is likely more helpful to me than to anyone else. It doesn't really matter it's helping me to uncover truths about myself and figure out a way to move forward and stop the cycles I can observe.

    My body My choice My body My choice. That's what the people say. I was dressed as a boy at a young age because perverts happen to exist and it was the era of low rise jeans. I didn't really get a choice growing up. Boundaries were not really ever present as already discussed. My mother had an ectopic pregnancy before I came into the picture. I was made aware of this around the time I was made aware of everything else that happened to my mother. For those who don't know an ectopic pregnancy is when an egg is fertilized within the fallopian tube. This makes me a rainbow baby. When my mother was going blind, I was being bullied by the children on my street pretty severely and so by the grace of my grandparents I was sent to the catholic school up the street for a year. Ironically this wound up being the year we moved.

      I was in the fourth grade. I started my period the summer before. During gym class I would get this terrible feeling of needles al throughout my body so I would have to sit out. I already attended Sunday school regularly. However, I was not pressed on political issues. This year I learned of the political perspectives of the church. I remember sitting in my religion class, the news was turned on. There were catholic school students in Washington D.C. protesting for the right to life. My teacher began prodding us about what we thought. I recall I felt using the word rape was inappropriate so I asked her what if a person was forced to have a baby. She said they should have it. I said something to the effect of," My mother was pregnant with a baby that wasn't going to live before me what about her?" My teacher responded,"Plenty of saints died so their children could live. Your mother should have done that." 

    I got into trouble for plenty of things during this period. My hair, which swooped over my eye. I was blamed for my reactions to boys taking things from me. My mother was in and out of the hospital and already blind by this point due to cataracts. My parents were fighting. All things I believe I have already covered in previous posts. Boys were also developing although I was in elementary school and they were in high school.  I recall one day A boy asked me during our morning ride on the school bus  if I wanted to have some interaction with his penis which grew the previous night. This was odd to me so I moved away. Another boy at some point asked if he payed me would I give him a blow job. Tit picks for dick picks? all fun interactions for a young girl.

        One night my mother had turned on love story. She was drunk again. I don't know what happened exactly over the course of that night. There was a point where my mother left the room when she came back she was holding a pair of kitchen tongs. She laid out a thin sponge bob blanket on the floor and asked me to assist her in removing her copper IUD. I refused. She began trying to remove it herself in front of me on the living room floor on top of that Sponge Bob blanket. crying. I believe this was a night she cut herself. She showed me the next day.

    Most nights I would be playing on the computer, probably role playing in Gaia forums. Talking to people to old for me. Likely being groomed for attention by young adults. One of these nights my mother asked me to turn on George Michael's "I want your sex" She did not tell me much. She just sang the song and told me sex is fun, natural, and everyone should do it. I believe afterwards was "Let's Talk About Sex" by Salt - N - Peppa. 

    We were once playing the game of life. You know the board game where everyone gets a character in a car.   You spin a wheel and your life changes. My family doing something together for once. My character kept having children without a spouse or partner. My father called me personally a whore. I don't like the game of life anymore.

    These memories combined have had significant impacts on how I relate with others and my awareness of self. I became increasingly aware of my body and became increasingly uncomfortable with it. I began binding my chest with AID bandages regularly in high school. In gym class we were expected ot change and shower around those of the same gender. I would hide behind a wall in the corner if bathroom stalls were taken up and afterwards I would cover my head with a towel to exit. at the same time I would change with my blinds open and moon my neighbors that I thought of as jerks. I identified as pansexual but I never knew what closeness felt like. I didn't understand a lot about reality or interacting with others. It was to a point my first day of high school my peers were already asking if I was high at 8 A.M. 

       I know now I was raised to be ashamed of my existence as a female due to a lack of a proper role model. When I don't think of my body as female but just a bag of flesh and bones, the perspective shifts. Vague comments with not context or explanation as well as no physical example showing me how to operate in the world would later have significant impacts in my life. I will talk about this later.

At the end of most posts will be resources for further self understanding you are welcome/ invited to look at them.

Pirola, Francine & Byron. “Adult Children of Addicts & Sexual Response.” SmartLoving, 23 May 2012, smartloving.org/adult-children-of-addicts-sex/#:~:text=Another%20pattern%20noted%20by%20some,they%20may%20be%20non%2Dorgasmic.