Childhood

Anon

I’ve been doing these exercises from a book about sex (yup, nearly 30 and need a sex ed textbook. Well done, education system.) and the first one is all about remembering your body’s history, like, recalling times that you were aware of your body, how you felt about it, how you physically developed etc. First off, I notice that there are very few happy memories related to my body. Alarming. Secondly, I realised that the first time I ever felt fat was in a ballet class when I was 6. It wasn’t anything that was said to me, I just noticed that all the other girls in their neon-pink leotards had flat stomachs and mine wasn’t. Being a girl fucking sucks, doesn’t it?

Mel

I was raised by feminist hippies in the 1980S, under a female primr minister.. It was still made clear to me that I couldn’t be a lifeboat crew member, a reenactment viking, an astronaut or a golf caddy due to my sex.

SM

I was visiting family this Labor Day weekend. My 2 1/2 year old niece was coloring a picture, and I started flipping through the coloring book it came from. It was princess-themed, of course, and the more pictures I looked at, the more depressed I got. Here is a sampling of the captions that were at the bottom of each page: -Pretty as a Picture -Pretty as a Princess -Lovely Locks (underneath a picture of a princess brushing her hair) -Sweet Smile -Such Poise -So Graceful -In love (under a picture of a princess apparently daydreaming about a prince) -Beautiful new dress I counted at least 5 different pictures of a hand mirror or a girl looking in the mirror. Not one picture showed a princess or a lady actually DOING anything (unless you count the single picture of a girl dancing with a prince – I don’t). My smart, energetic, very active niece is not yet 3, and already the toys and books we surround her with are giving one clear message: you are here to be looked at.

N/A

This only came back to me when I was 17, despite happening when I was about 6. I was at a friends house playing in her bedroom, when her older brother and a friend came in (he was 9 or 10 I think). He told his friend and his sister to hold me down whilst he “explored” my body. I remember him taking all my clothes off and basically doing whatever he liked, parting my legs, fingering me etc. . I remember screaming at his sister to let me go, but she said that he was her older brother so she had to do what he said. I can’t actually remember how long this exploration went on for. When I told mum what had happened she was angry but didn’t quite know what to do. I think she talked to the boy’s mother, but nothing ever really came of it. For years I repressed the memory, and wondered why I was scared of sex, or felt ashamed of it. I wonder how much this experience has to do with it. It took me until the age of 21 to come to terms with myself as a sexual being and be okay with that.