This series of Posts from Your Archives is exclusively for blogs that are under a year old. It is an opportunity to meet new readers and to show off your writing skills.. All the details are in this post along with some tips on how to make your blog more reader friendly.
Delighted to showcase another new blogger on the scene… meet Linda Thompson who blogs about Life lessons. Through anecdotes, memories or stories (some funny, others serious), several posts are about lessons learned because of something that happened in her life.
In her second post, Linda shares her encounter with Donna C… who matured faster than her fellow schoolmates and had two elder sisters to give her a head start. I did too and can remember helping myself to their wardrobe rather than mine! Linda also has some wisdom to share on body image..
Thank you, Donna C., Wherever You Are (Humour on body image/adolescence)
There’s one in almost every woman’s memory. You know who I mean. The girl who came back to school after summer vacation one year with curves and hips while you were still in that awkward stage. For me, it was Donna C. I sometimes wonder about her. Is she still pretty? Is she a good person? I have no idea, but it once felt like she’d been put on my path for the sole purpose of making me feel inadequate.
In grade school Donna and I were in the same circle of friends and everything was fine – until seventh grade. When we returned to school that September, I’d grown a few inches and gone from pudgy to beanpole. Donna, though, was almost unrecognizable.
Somehow that girl got herself a shapely derrière that she showed off in hip hugger jeans so tight that I wondered how she got into them. (This was before jeans had any stretch fabric in them.) She later explained the technique learned from her two older sisters. 1) Lie down with jeans still wet from washing; 2) Wiggle into them while lying on your back; 3) Suck stomach in; 4) Zip and wear.
Donna also suddenly had funky belts, ribbed turtleneck sweaters that showed off her new curves and neat jewellery – all courtesy of her sisters’ closets. I envied her those “cool” older sisters because when it came to clothes and music, they gave her an edge. I had two younger brothers and, really, what good are they?
But the worst insult of all was the swell in just the right place under those great new sweaters she wore. “Don’t worry,” my mother told me. “You’ll be glad you’re tall, slim and small-chested when you get older. Women put on weight as they age and girls like you carry it much better.” Really? When you’re 12, who cares? I wanted boobs and I wanted them now!
I’m pretty sure Donna’s sisters were single-handedly responsible for ruining Wendy K.’s 14th birthday party for the girls who were there. The party was in Wendy’s basement on a Saturday afternoon in January. Chips and pop were laid out, the lights were dim, and “Hey Jude” was in the line-up of tunes to be played. Because it was seven+ minutes long, every girl hoped the boy she liked would ask her to dance when it came on. There we were in our party dresses and feeling pretty good about ourselves until Donna made her entrance.
The doorbell rang and we heard Wendy’s parents greet the newcomer. A few minutes later, Donna came down the basement stairs and instantly became every boy’s fantasy. She wore a tight-fitting black mini-dress, nylons and heels. She had rouge on her cheekbones, a thin line of expertly applied black eyeliner around her eyes and shiny pink gloss on her lips. This had to be the work of her sisters!
I went from feeling exhilarated about the party and my pastel dress to being completely miserable. What was I thinking? I looked like a kid, for God’s sakes! A look at the other girls told me they felt the same way. A glance at the boys’ faces told me that no matter who asked me to dance to “Hey Jude”, I’d be second-choice.
The following year Donna changed schools and we lost touch. I didn’t harbor any hard feelings; it wasn’t her fault the way she looked made the rest of us feel less than worthy. On the contrary, I should thank her for starting me on the road to accepting something that most girls, even Donna, have to. There’s always someone slimmer, prettier, better-looking or with better clothes out there and so what? Beauty’s only skin deep and first impressions are fleeting. The lasting impressions are the ones that count.
Even now, as a “mature” woman, there are times when I walk into a room, see someone who looks dazzling and feel momentarily off-balance. But then it passes. For the most part, I’m grateful for the healthy body that’s gotten me through life so far and hopefully has a lot more good years left.
©Linda Thompson 2019
About Linda
Writer, fundraiser, mother, wife, owner of one stubborn Canadian mare and one orange tabby and bona fide introvert who finds it easier to express herself in ink than out loud. For extroverts and Type A personalities, expressing themselves is a natural part of their charm and we mostly love them for it. It’s hard to know what goes on in the head of an introvert or how he/she perceives the world. Follow me to see the world through the eyes of this introvert and share your thoughts with me. Extroverts welcome too!
Connect to Linda
Blog: https://lindathompsonsite.wordpress.co
Twitter: https://twitter.com/inkplume
My thanks to Linda for allowing me to share her posts and I hope that you will head over to her blog to follow and enjoy her archives.. thanks Sally.
A fun post and relatable – sort of. My mother made me start wearing a bra at 9! I was humiliated and embarrassed, but the choice was bra or undershirt – which I found more humiliating, lol. ❤
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I was 10 and a special present for being brave after my operation to remove my tonsils.. ice cream would have been just fine! ♥
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Lol Sal ❤
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♥
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What a story, about getting on jeans too. In my childhood i had this problem too, but never thought about to put them on this style. 😉 Thank you for the smile. Michael
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Thanks Michael… it is called growing pains… hugsx
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Yes, indeed Sally! 🙂 Thank you for the reblog of this nice story.
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Oh, yes, I knew a Donna C – she was called Christine and made me feel immature, undeveloped, unfashionable and totally without hope! I survived somehow 🙂
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And very well too… I did wonder where one particular nemesis ended up and FB is quite useful… I felt quite a bit better afterwards I am sorry to admit!!! xxx
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Like I said: There’s one in every woman’s memory! Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts.
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I wish I were invited to a few more of those Hey Jude parties growing up. For every Donna C, there was her male counterpart, Bobby G. He was the kid who looked cool without even trying.
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The one consolation is that he is now probably a bald granddad with wonky knees! x
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That’s not much consolation—sounds like me.😎
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I don’t think so Pete…hugs
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Never thought about that. Thanks for the male perspective!
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I, too, was the recipient of the “you’ll-be-thankful-for-small-breasts-no-sagging-when-you’re-older speech from my mother.
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and so say all of us….x
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😀
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I guess our Moms had a point. Also on the bright side, no backaches, deep strap marks in the shoulders, etc. 🙂
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And can wear a comfy stretch bra without bones…x
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Yep, none of that!
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seems like it’s much harder to be a young girl than a young guy…
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