I didn’t know there was anything wrong with me until one
night my mother told me so as she was tucking me into bed. We were living in
Leavenworth, Kansas, and I was in elementary school, probably 3rd or
4th grade.
“One day your husband is going to look at you and tell you
you’re not normal.”
She was referring to my nipples.
Let me repeat, I was in elementary school, no older than 9
years old. The little neighborhood girls I joke around with are the same age I
was then.
Who says that to their daughter?
It is impossible to communicate the shame and isolation I
felt. My inverted nipples were my dirty secret. My body
was deformed, and people (my husband) were appearing from the future to condemn
me for it.
 |
| Via |
One the first day of school the next year, I folded toilet tissue
into neat squares, put it into my little training bra, and made a bargain with
my breasts: You can stick out, but the shape of your nipples must stay a
secret.
I didn’t have words for it at the time, because
hell I was a
kid, but thinking back there are people who are supposed to have your
back,
nurture you and look out for your best interests. Most parents shield
kids from
the grown up world’s anxiety, stress, chaos and rage. My family had lots
of problems in this regard. But her comment was not just failing to
shield me from an outside force; she injected the anxiety and shame right into me.
Instead of sitting with her own anxiety that her children were
not perfect, she needed to share that anxiety with me. It was unfair to put that burden on me. Not to mention very fucked up.
It is painful to write about this, and it makes me want to cry. I want to hug that little girl who needed acceptance and unconditional love but was born to two parents who were incapable of it. I've mentioned it to my mom a couple of times. Her response: "I don't remember saying that, but if I did, I apologize." Why would she remember? I was a off-handed comment. It meant nothing to her.
On a 1-10 scale, today this bothers me at about a level 1. I wonder how much hot sexy trouble I stayed out of in
college and my twenties because I let this nonsense affect me. Now that I am in
my thirties, I’ve started having my fun.
It’s probably for the best since I’m more mature now.
Well, Mom, of all the men and women who have had intimate
contact with my nips, none have complained!
Guess you were wrong.
