As a young girl, I started undergoing puberty quite soon. It began at 8 years old to be exact, such that, without medical intervention, I could have gotten my period by age 10. Alarmed, my parents scrambled to find a solution that would both conserve my innocence and manage the unruly growth that didn’t fit the proper timeline.
Immediately, I was placed on a diet that eliminated any sort of junk food (including apples with the skin on, by the way) that could worsen rapid development of my “womanly” physical characteristics. In addition, parents and family took it upon themselves to begin policing what I wore.
I can still hear my mother tell me that skirts were off limits because my hips were already far too wide, the skirts always looked too short, and my legs were too thick to be out like that. Not to mention what happened as my breasts began to develop. Oh, then certain types of shirts were not allowed. I ran out of outfit options pretty quickly…
My body began to feel like a battleground, where the only way to remain unharmed was to obey the strict dress code that my parents set and pretend to ignore the men who continued to look more intently at me.
Truth be told, I can understand my parents’ concern… It is scary how early girls are sexualized in Brazilian culture and grown men whistling at a 10-year-old on the street would send any parent flying.
However, all those years of policing have left me in a deeply troubled relationship with my body. I remember that even after moving to suburbia, MD, (where I was expected to NOT get harassed) my parents continued policing what I was allowed to wear. In fact, not just my parents. I distinctly remember a teacher in high school pulling me aside and asking me if this was “really the message I wanted to send boys with that top.”
Through policing my body, people placed the responsibility for how other’s saw my body on me. It then became my job to make sure that I was not objectified. The weight of an entire culture of objectification of women was placed on the shoulders of a 13-year-old.
In my teen years, I continuously hated my body. I hated living in it. I hated having to call it mine. I hated how it gained weight and I hated how it lost weight. I wanted to be inside anyone else’s body.
Today, I do not claim that I’ve won the battle nor that the policing of my body’s shape and what I choose to wear on it has stopped. It is still a battleground. I’m still policed, only it is mostly by me currently. Now, I police how and what I choose to wear on my body. Always hesitant that I am sending the wrong message and that I’m exposing too much. This mentality has kept me from celebrating the shape my body is, how it looks presently, and all that it does for me.
Unruly Bodies 
I feel like many can relate to this post. My 11 year old cousin hit puberty early. She has been on her period since she was 9. She has expressed similar concerns in reference to what she can and can’t wear. I will share this post with her mother I feel like she can learn a lot from your story and maybe change her approach when it comes to figuring out outfits she should wear so she may feel comfortable in the skin she is in and change her approach to her body as well!
I definitely relate this blog post a lot. Constantly throughout my middle school to high school life, everyone made a lot of judgments based on clothing choices. As if that the clothing we wear would determine who we are as a person. Trying to follow the dress code for my public school was hard, too, especially when identifying as a female: shorts and skirts can’t be too short, no spaghetti straps, no shoulders showing, or else we would be asked to put on the ugly gym uniforms. I did not realize that my shoulders were responsible to other people not being able to pay attention in class. Although my school was not as strict as others, I still found it demeaning when teachers would say that certain attire is inappropriate because it “distracts the boys”. Maybe instead of asking me to put a cardigan on, they should ask the boys to respect women no matter what they wear.
It’s funny, in that completely not funny way, that I totally empathize with what you went through but on the premise of being a late bloomer. In eighth grade, when I still hadn’t developed breasts, I would get teased by girls in the gym locker room for going to the bathroom stalls to change (no boobs, no bra). I would get taunted by the boys who were not hesitant to say it was for my lack of boobage. All throughout eighth and ninth grade, women within my cultural community would ask me if my period had started or not. Umm..is it really any of your business? All of this questioning and dismay at the lack of physical development and no menses really caused a lot of confusion and insecurity at the ripe old age of 13. And then the summer before tenth grade, I got my period…the boobs sprouted…and the comments about my body continued. It never ends. The female body will forever be subjected to outside criticism and will never satisfy, it seems.
I actually almost relate to this. I had an ‘early puberty scare’ at one point resulting in a ban from all soy products (apparently they speed up “female” hormones?) and remember wondering what the big deal was. I’m so sorry you had to go through the policing of what you were, even if it was for an understandable reason. I know that me saying this won’t magically make everything easier but do know that what you put on your body is entirely up to you and literally no one else’s judgement of what “message” you’re trying to send matters at all.
I didn’t hit puberty early in terms of when my peers were, but I hit puberty much earlier than my mother did. She hit it very late and assumed I would as well. I hit puberty very abruptly and that on its own was very traumatizing, but to have my mother’s criticism added on top of that made it much harder to deal with. I was very self-conscious for a long time. I think it is important that we are more open and honest about our bodies in a non-judgmental way and to not put the actions of inappropriate men on the shoulders of little girls.
It’s crazy how this post took me back. I have always struggled with my weight. When I finally hit puberty and started to get a figure. My parents quickly tried to hide my body. In a sense , I wanted to question ” why must I hide myself”? But over time I found my voice. I Knew how I wanted to present myself . I knew that I was at risked of getting “cat called” and all the other negative things that would happen. I just knew what was more important. Instead of hiding who I was, I told everyone else to kick rocks.
I too was an early bloomer. I remember my mother being concerned that I had hit puberty at age 9, my father was upset. I didn’t get why it was such a big deal but now that I have a 7-year-old sister I can sort of understand them. She’ll be an early bloomer too, you can already see her body changing and I worry about predators. We were out shopping one day and an old man winked at her, but not in a playful manner. it was scary and disgusting. I know my mom will police the way she dresses growing up, but it’s not her fault some men see the female body, however young, as a sexual object.
This is such a powerful conversation! I remember my mom taking me to buy a bra because the gym teacher in junior high called her and told her my sister and I couldn’t come to school without bras anymore. It was so embarrassing, and it really changed how I felt about my changing body. All of a sudden it wasn’t my body–it was a problem. What a drag.