Category Archives: Growing Up

November 5, 2012 · 12:20 pm

The first time I realised that I liked girls.

I was 21. The person who I told was me, at first.

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I was working at a bureau de change in the middle of town. It was pretty much the most thankless job I’d ever had: the money was filthy and the clients were rude. But it was also the easiest job I’d ever had, and I wasn’t really in a demanding-job state of mind at the time. But that’s another story. The point is, I wasn’t in a position to complain.

All the counters faced outside, and from my chair, I could see the fountain outside where people often enjoyed their lunch, or just soaked up some sun during their smoke breaks. I was the only person on duty during the lunch hour, and there were no customers around, so I was people-watching to pass the time.

Two girls sat down on the ledge of the fountain outside. They were both obviously tourists. One of them was a tall blonde with the palest skin I had ever seen. Others probably would have said that here was nothing particularly special about her, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I have no idea what the other girl looked like, she could have been on fire and I wouldn’t have noticed. The blonde girl tipped her head back to enjoy the sun, and I remember thinking, I want to kiss her right now.

And as soon as I thought that, it was like someone had kicked me in the chest. I couldn’t breathe, all I could think was, I want to kiss that person. That person is a girl. I want to kiss that girl. I am also a girl. I wanted to laugh and cry and throw up. But most of all, I wanted to tell someone else. It felt like if I didn’t tell someone, it wasn’t real. And this was the realest thought I had had in a long time.

I sent one of my closest friends a 500 word email on my phone, and then I sat and waited. I thought the world would change somehow. But my colleagues were still in the break room behind me, people still came in with their money, it was still so dirty that I wanted to scrub my whole body. But I could feel it. Everything was different.

My friend replied almost immediately, despite it being pretty late where she was. And she said it was ok. I didn’t even know that I was asking if it was ok until she told me it was.

Today, I had another of those moments. I wanted to kiss another woman so much that I ached with it. This time, I didn’t need anyone to tell me that it was ok.

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May 8, 2012 · 11:40 am

The first time I held a baby

The first baby I held was in the summer I was 13. My 12 day old cousin was small and warm in my arms. My aunt had asked me if I wanted to hold her and my parents encouraged me, so I took her in my arms. She was so warm in my cold arms. She’d wiggle in my arms and look at me with half closed eyes. I think it’s a memory I’ll always remember.

While I held her I listened to my father and his sister talk. She told him how my other cousins had come to see her as well. It had been right after the birth so she had lightly complained about my cousin Madison. “Of course she wanted to hold the baby” I was confused about what she meant, but I didn’t ask.

Later I thought about it and I thought about whether it was normal for a young girl to want to hold a baby. It seemed my aunt thought so. I wondered if I was offered to hold the baby because I was a girl or if I was expected to want to. I was very confused for quite a while, though I never said anything.

Around the time I had a school friend who liked to talk about growing up to have babies. We would spend our time together talking about baby names and what they would be like. It seems weird to me now, but at the time it was completely normal. I felt confused about the whole thought of babies, after that.

My Mum had told me times before that she never wanted children, and how it was because of her husband that I was born. I was very young when she first said this to me, but I don’t think I understood till I was much older. When I did I felt so hurt, like someone had hit me. And so, still very young, I decided I would never have a baby. My Mum didn’t respond when I told her this, but my dad told me he was kind of disappointed to not have grand kids.

I didn’t know how I felt about their reactions or about that child I had held years ago, but I think I’ve come to terms with my self. I just don’t know if I want to have a baby. I know that if I do decide to have a child I’ll defiantly be the most loving parent I never had. I’m still young and I have much more time to think it over and I will take all the time I need.

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January 20, 2012 · 9:24 am

The First Time I was Pregnant for a Day

Okay so obviously it wasn’t really only one day. I was actually three-weeks-and-a-day-pregnant when I found out. The decision was an easy for me; it simply wasn’t the right time. So the day after I found out, I took steps to have a medical termination and this is how it all happened.

Tuesday, 14h15

Stood in Clicks looking at the array of pregnancy tests:  disposable, electronic, early pregnancy, twin packs and more. I went for the one in the pink Toblerone shaped box. I only got it to put my mind at ease after being less than responsible with my pill on a recent month of travel and then having some great break-up sex with my recently ex-boyfriend on my return. Then I got cracking with my Christmas shopping to distract nosy shoppers’ eyes from the anomaly in my basket.

15h30

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Got home and dumped shopping bags on the kitchen counter. Kept having to stop myself from thinking, “I’ll just have a quick wee and then I do the test.” Ripped open the packet with distinct diagrams to the effect that “one line = exhale, two lines = knocked up” and peed on the stick. My home phone started ringing, “Bugger!” I galloped to the lounge with my shorts and panties around my knees, “Hello?”. A fax tone responded: beep, beep, beep. I glanced at the stick: one line. Then, as the liquid travelled further up the window, as inevitable as a wave claiming the beach, a second line appeared. I realised I was still holding the phone, begging the fax machine on the other end to take the second line away, “No. No no no. Please no, please, please no.” The two bold lines remained. I wasn’t just me anymore.

15h32

Phoned ex-boyfriend hyperventilating.  I bellowed, “I’M FUCKING PREGNANT!” with absolutely no rom-com charm. Sat on the floor in t-shirt and panties, crying into a towel and staring at those two lines in absolute disbelief while ex-boyfriend came rushing over from work.

He was totally lovely – everything anyone in my position could have asked for. He was tender and respectful and concerned and absolutely supportive in every way of every choice and decision I made.

17h00

Went back and got another two tests. All positive. Like cherries on a slot machine, “Bing! Bing! Bing! You’re so freaking pregnant!” I sat looking at the three tests for ages. I kept returning to them, mesmerised. Ex-boyfriend worried that it would make me sad.

19h30

Phoned my best friend who laid it down in ecological terms: “In nature, when an animal is carrying a baby and the time is not right – there’s not enough food or there’s danger – the animal naturally aborts. This is your beautiful body and it’s your right to choose what happens to you. Right now, what’s inside you is a group of cells.The is just not right and you’ve chosen to do what’s best for you. You are so brave; you’ve made a really brave decision. We are all here for you.”

23h00

Couldn’t sleep. It was four days until Christmas and I had no idea how long any procedure would take. Googled local clinics and decided to see my GP first thing. Lay next to ex-boyf and talked. He kept making me laugh by pretending to fall asleep mid- sentence.

Wednesday 7h00

Woke up and stared at the ceiling alone for ages before ex-boyf woke up. Felt the numbness of disbelief trickle into a warm, magical feeling of wonder. I felt special. I still didn’t even consider having the baby but just the mere fact that I did it. My body was made to get pregnant and I did it. It felt quietly wonderful.

Got up and phoned the GP. Made an appointment first thing.

08h30

My normal GP was on leave for Christmas and so I had to see the other doc in the building. As I announced that I thought I was pregnant, the turd responded with “Oh wonderful! That’s such exciting news!”

After clarifying the situation, she gave me a list of recommended Gynaecologists who “deal with this sort of thing”. After trying most of them only to hear that they were on leave, I found a Woman’s Wellness GP who would see me that afternoon but I needed an ultrasound before then to make sure it wasn’t an ectopic pregnancy.

11h00

Sat in a gown in a tiny room drinking water for an hour before my bladder was full enough for the technician to use as a lens to see into my uterus. It was totally like the movies: cold gel, what looked like a roll-on deodorant, a black and white screen.

13h00

Met with the new gynae-GP. She was amazing. She invited ex-boyf in but I decided I wanted to do it by myself. She explained everything clearly without being judgemental or condescending. I had found out so early that I could use the medical method which involved taking a series of medications which terminates the pregnancy and induces a period over two or three days. She was thorough with understanding my emotional state, my support structures and my decision-making.

15h30

Took the first medication that would detach the foetus from the lining of my womb.

The procedure went off without a hitch. The doc was in touch on the phone every day; I hardly suffered any symptoms, in fact, I think family Christmas (which I went to the next day) was more painful! Ex-boyf sat next to me for three days straight while my body let go. It’s taken a while to process it all since then; you can’t rush figuring it all out for yourself. I’m grateful that the (second) doctor was so great. I only wish other girls in this situation could be treated so well; cared for and respected.

I told my family in my own time and in my own way. Maybe that’ll be another story.

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