When I was a kid, my siblings and I would play all the normal kiddie games. Rollerskates were my favourite activity, followed by shooting netballs with Jane in the driveway and using the swing set as pretend high bars in my efforts to become the next Nadia.
I played netball for years and years - starting when I was in kindy and retiring when I was 16. I loved it. But it was netball that caused my fear of hurting myself to blossom. Every weekend up at the courts, some poor girl would be carried off to the first aid sector, with a sprained ankle, dislocated knee or jarred fingers. Of course, I had my own set of injuries from netball, as did my sister. And in the end I decided that the risk was too high. I no longer wanted to play something that could see me injured. I wish that I had just realised that sometimes when you push your body hard, it occasionally gets hurt but that is okay cause you recover and just keep going.
I'm too scared to play netball anymore.
I also excelled at swimming carnivals. Mum signed Jane and I up for swimming club on Wednesday nights - but we only went a few times, it was apparently too cold. But despite not training, I still did very well at backstroke...doing well at my school level, then zone level, then I got to go to regionals! I loved swimming too! Perhaps I could have been the next Steph Rice with a little practice?
I did Jazz Ballet as a child, and continued that off and on through my primary school years - until I grew boobs.....and was the only one in my whole class who had them. I remember in year 6, performing a dance routine with the other girls in my troupe for the whole school. And I distinctly remember being absolutely mortified at how obvious my new boobs were in my white leotard, especially amongst the other flat chested girls. I'm pretty sure I know who those little randy year 6 boys were staring at during that dance.
As an early teenage, I was highly aware of the two expanding lumps on my chest, and people constantly brought them to my attention. The was one guy at school a couple of years above me, who would always comment loudly if I ever was stupid enough to walk past him, saying horrid things like 'see that chick? Look at the size of her boobs! I wonder if she lets anyone touch them?' Yes, I can just hear you all saying 'Oh Lauren, pay him no heed. He is clearly a wanker who will probably end up in gaol'. But does that make the 13yr old Lauren feel any more confident when she walks passed? No. And what about the time I flogged a Mars Bar from Karabar Shops on my way home from a friends, and I got busted? The man approached me at the corner of the building, I thought I had gotten away with it! He suggested that if I let him touch my boobs he wouldn't dob me in. I threw the Mars in his face, told him my dad was a cop and he'd better watch himself, and ran most of the way home...in tears. Stupid boobs! Why must they be such a burden to young girls?
So I found a solution to reducing this unwanted attention. Don't wear tight fitting clothes. Don't go to Karabar. Don't walk past that dickhead at school if it could be helped. And make yourself unattractive in other ways so they don't even take a second look.
Have you ever seen an undercut? On a girl? The word sexy runs screaming from the room and in saunters the descriptions 'butch' and 'tough'. Add black hair, gothic makeup, baggy ill fitting clothes and an attitude of 'don't even think about talking to me' and my transformation was complete. How little did I realise at the time that trying to hide my boobs amongst a growing waistline was actually also increasing them in size too! Oops!
I no longer played netball. I didn't swim. I didn't dance. I stopped all my activities for reasons mostly surrounding my insecurities about my developing body, turning me into a beautiful, curvy young woman. I wish now that I had the confidence back them to realise that dickheads will come and go in your life but there is no need to give them such power over your life, changing hobbies and images to prevent attention.
Talking over the weekend, my friends and I realised the importance of teaching our children about respect. Self respect, and respect for others. It is most important to teach our young boys to respect women. And to teach our young girls to respect themselves. Yes, and to respect boys too. My parents tried their best to teach us these important qualities, but I was still a struggling teenager. Imagine how much harder it would have been without such loving parents.
Fathers, be the type of man that you want your daughter to marry, because she will look up to you and see your relationship with your spouse to be how she should be treated. Make sure you are a man who treats your partner with love, respect, loyalty, kindness and support.
Mothers, be the most self respecting woman you can be, so that your children see a strong, compassionate, healthy, loving and engaging woman that they will look up to. Your daughters will watch you and see how you are treated, how you treat yourself. And your sons will note how you allow yourself to be treated by others and will learn to treat you like that.
Live the life you want for your children... for they will watch and learn.
With the girls in music class...maybe if I slump you won't see my chest?
LG, Life's Good!
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