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March 13, 2016

Let's Pinch the Circus Freak's Boobs

After father died mother applied for welfare but hated receiving help from the government.  When she found a second job working at night as a cleaning lady for office buildings she got off of welfare as soon as she could.

For a long time I believed mother hated welfare because she was a proud woman.  Later in life I would realize she didn't like receiving welfare because she was scared the government was watching her.

As a cleaning woman she made friends with some of the other women that were Hungarian.  When mother announced one day that she had invited a few of her friends over for Sunday brunch, I thought it would be a nice day for once.

Even as a child I used to be amazed at how different mother and Grace were around other people.  They always acted so sweet and nice around other people.  The first time I read Jekyll and Hyde I immediately thought about my mother and Grace.  They had a great talent for changing their personalities in front of other people.

When teachers and friends would tell me, “Your mother is so sweet,” I always had the same thought which I had to keep to myself, "Then you come live with her."

Unfortunately for me, the friends mother had over for Sunday brunch were not as sweet as they pretended to be either.

Both mother and Grace always made fun of my body.  Always pointing out how ugly my body was with my knocked knees, big butt and flat chest.  Mother would remind me on a regular basis how hard it would be for me to find a man because of my ugly body, and if a man ever did want me, it would just be for my big butt.

When boys at school would talk about my "big booty," it reinforced everything mother said.  I had an ugly body.  It never occurred to me that boys at school liked what they were seeing and that's why they were teasing me.  In my already damaged mind, every remark about my body meant that it was ugly.

What mother and her friends did that fateful day would cement that belief in my mind for almost my entire life.

After mother and her friends had finished eating in the dining room, they gathered in the living room to drink coffee and eat cookies.  I grabbed a few cookies and a cup of coffee and went back to the dining room to read a book.  I didn't want to do anything to upset mother so I did my best to stay out of her way.

A few minutes into reading my book I heard mother call my name.  I figured she probably wanted me to get something from the kitchen, like more cookies or coffee for her friends.

When I asked mother what I could get her and her friends, she told me to take off my clothes.  I was so confused I didn't know what to do.  She stood up and came up to me and told me not to embarrass her in front of her friends.  She told me again to take off my clothes.

I felt like crying but I knew I couldn't without receiving one of mother’s severe punishments.  Even though I had asked mother for a training bra she refused to buy me one because she said I had nothing to fill it up with, so I had nothing under my blouse.  I felt so scared and embarrassed as I took off my blouse and then my pants.  I kept my underwear on hoping mother wouldn't make me take that off too.

I stood there with my arms crossed trying to cover myself, but it didn't stop the living nightmare that I had to live through that day.

My mother and her friends were pointing and laughing.  Making jokes about my flat chest and big butt.  A couple of the women came up to me and pinched my breasts calling them pimples.  They would slap my butt and joke about how it shook like gelatin.  One woman came up behind me and grabbed my butt and made humping motions, pretending she was a man and making jokes about what a man would do to me.

I don't know how long this went on for.  It seemed like an eternity to me.  When mother told me to put my clothes back on I grabbed my clothes and ran to the bathroom.  I couldn't stop shaking and crying.  I felt like a deformed circus freak.

Since Peter didn't want to be home with a bunch of "old ladies," he had left in the morning to spend the day with his friends.  He wasn't there to protect me like he usually tried to do.  I will never know if she would have done this to me if Peter had been home.

Grace was in the bedroom she shared with Peter getting ready to go out, but I knew that I couldn't go to her.  She would have laughed and enjoyed what had been done to me.

Maybe mother had told Grace what had happened, because only a few days later Grace would traumatize me further.

After what had happened with mother's friends I began locking the bathroom door when I took a bath.  I couldn't stand the idea of anyone walking in and seeing me naked and hearing them laugh.  I had all I could take with being laughed at.

A few days after being made into a circus freak sideshow, I had finished taking a bath and I heard someone knocking on the bathroom door.  Grace said she needed to use the bathroom.  I quickly wrapped a towel around myself and let her in.

After she finished using the toilet she stood up and locked the bathroom door. Fear immediately washed over me.  She proceeded to take off her blouse and bra.  When I asked what she was doing she said she wanted to take a shower. 

I refused to look to at her.  Instead of taking a shower she stood next to me and took my right hand and placed it on her breast.  She told me to feel it and asked if I liked how it felt.  She licked her finger and played with her nipple.  She said her nipple was hard because it needed to be licked.  I tried to take my hand away but she tightened her grip and pulled me closer.  With her other hand she tried to put her breast in my mouth and told me to lick her nipple.

I screamed as loud as I could and within seconds Peter was pounding on the bathroom door demanding that I open the door.

Grace told me I was a stupid bitch as she put her blouse back on and put her bra in the hamper.  She opened the door and left.  Peter came in and asked me what happened.  I was too embarrassed to tell him the truth.  I lied and said she was making fun of me.  He hugged me and told me not to listen to anything she said because she was born mean.

When I was older and told Peter what had happened that day in the bathroom with Grace, he suggested she was experimenting.  That might have been true if she was normal.  Grace was created by two monsters and would become one herself.

I would slowly grow to think of the naked body as a dirty thing.  The thought of anyone touching me made my skin crawl.

I would do everything in my power to never let anyone see me naked.  Girls at school would laugh when I refused to change in the locker room for gym class and used a bathroom stall instead.  They would tease that I was hiding a third boob or maybe a tail.

I would learn to dress to hide.  I would never wear shorts or a bathing suit in public again.  I would only wear ankle length skirts and dresses to hide my ugly knees.  I would only wear long tops to hide my rear.  Later in life when people would tell me that I had a pretty face, it cemented in my mind that mother was right.  I had a hideous body.

Unlike most young women in their twenties who enjoy the beauty and freedom of a bikini, I would never even try on a bikini.  When I wore one piece swimsuits at a gym, I would cover my bottom with long border shorts.

As I grew older and had boyfriends who told me I had a nice body, I believed they were being cruel or lying so as not to hurt my feelings.  I would laugh at any compliments and say, "You're such a good liar, but thanks."

I would often hide my inner pain with jokes about God being drunk when he created me, and accidentally confused me with a fruit salad and gave me lemons for breasts and a watermelon for a butt.

I hated myself inside and out.  As I grew older I learned to hide my pain with humor.  When home alone I would often cry myself to sleep wondering why life had to be full of so much pain, and why couldn't I just die and finally be at peace.



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