7 - Still praying.

Like most young people approaching puberty, I was aghast at the things happening to my body and far too embarrassed to talk about it. I watched as the girls chests in the grade above me started pressing against their uniform. It wouldn’t be long until it was my turn. Oh god, here we go again… how am I supposed to cover up being a girl with those things hanging off my chest?? Helpless and distraught, I reverted back to prayer...

Dear God, I know it was probably a bit much of me to ask to grow a penis, but if you could please please please not give me big boobs I will be forever grateful. Amen.

God did not answer my prayers. I got boobs. Big ones. I bloody hated them. Boobs meant I couldn’t play soccer anymore with the boys at my local club. Before we could all just tear our shirts off and give them to the coach to take home and wash. Such a carefree and irresponsible life. Now I had to wait for mum to stand in front of me so I could change and I was never quite sure what people were allowed to see and what they weren’t anymore. Is it just the nips? Sideboob? Is my back taboo now? It was all very embarrassing, especially when mum would wander off with my shirt and I would be left standing awkwardly with the coach. Eventually he would see how humiliated I was and tell me to wash my own shirt and bring it back next week. It was my first lesson on how to be ashamed of my new body. There would be many more to come.

With the arrival of boobs came another unwelcome intruder...boys. I watched them as they started lining up along my sisters walls. Jonathan Taylor Thomas and Leonardo DiCaprio stared me down with their bedroom eyes I walked to my room. I would hear my sister and her friends talk about how hot they were and ogle at their bodies. I stared back at Leo trying desperately to see what they see. What am I missing here? Why don’t i get the same reactions as they seem to? What is wrong with me??

My walls were covered with Gillian Anderson and No Doubt posters. I loved Scully and Gwen Steffani. I also loved Maggie from Blue Heelers and the woman from JAG. That’s who I wanted to be surrounded by when I was in my room. I would lay back and stare at them before I went to sleep. Mum caught me mid-daydream once and asked me what I liked about them, I didn’t know why but I felt embarrassed and must have looked it.

“Is it because they are all strong women, maybe?” she queried trying to make me feel comfortable.

“Um...yeah maybe, I guess so” I answered not feeling at all comfortable with the conversation. Mum knew not to push these things as I didn’t like talking about my feelings.

Truth was it wasn’t that I didn’t like to talk about my feelings, I just didn’t really know what my feelings were. I was confused because my feelings didn’t seem to match the girls around me who were thrilled by the idea of boys and boobs. It was hard to recognise that the things happening in my stomach, and in my throat, and the thoughts swirling around in my head were actually just normal “feelings”.