My 13 year old self shouldâve known better. I mean, what good could come from bringing a boy home that resembled the son of Freddy Kruger. I was smitten though. The boy was tall, popular, from another school, and had his ears pierced. Iâm pretty sure Kruâs nose was pierced too, but that part of my memory has been blocked out by the crazed look on my Dadâs face when he saw him. Iâm sure my Dadâs thoughts were something along the lines of, âWhat in the good Christ?!!â Funny enough, itâs like he preemptively knew what to expect. Why else would he be sitting in the living room, cleaning his fingernails with a hunting knife?
I walked through the front door that day, and was mortified. Embarrassed was an understatement ⊠but since I brought Kru home; I had to kiss him ⊠so down to the basement we went. Kru was my first kiss, and he will forever hold a special place in my memory for that one. Every time I kissed Kru it was like playing tonsil hockey with sand paper.
Fast forward 4 weeks and we get to the end of the life cycle of this relationship. In teenager time, we lasted an eternity. What scarred me though, is how it ended. Kru grabbed my shoes and tossed them out his front door because I wouldnât have sex with him. Kru then proceeded to demean me while I stood barefoot on his doorstep. Kru said, âI knew you were a square.â Then, shut the door in my face, locked it ⊠and I never saw him again. I left my shoes on his front yard, and walked barefoot all the way to my best friendâs house.
My healed 40 year old self wants to slap my 13 year old self silly. First, for staying quiet, and second for having such low self esteem. I did not value myself enough to know that I was not the problem. Unfortunately, I donât think itâs a far fetched statement to say that this sentiment remains accurate for most teenage girls even now. I internalized that moment for years. I was too scared to stand up for myself. I felt ugly. Yes ⊠ugly. I associated me saying no to sex at 13 with Kru as me being ugly. It was how I rationalized the situation. I associated my âNOâ with how he saw me.
My 13 year old self carried thoughts around from that experience that sounded like; âI said no, but me saying no must not be the reason he doesnât like me anymore. It must be because Iâm not pretty enough. If I was prettier and said no ⊠then maybe he wouldnât have thrown my shoes out the front door and called me a square. If I was prettier I couldâve said no to him, but I bet weâd still be boyfriend and girlfriend because he would want to stay with me.â
Dissociative thoughts are all consuming. This thought pattern quite literally suffocates your mind. Anxiety and panic attacks stem from this kind of thought pattern, which I later developed. Close your eyes and imagine youâre me at 13. What would you have done? How would you have felt? What would you have thought? Donât feed me some calculated line. I want raw. I want genuine. Comment below, or on one of my other social media sites, and stay tuned for Chapter 2 âBruised Rosesâ đ„
xoxo @scarlettangel777 đ

Leave a comment