Is That Really Normal?

 Gym dressing rooms. They were probably the single place in the entire school building that I was the most scared of. I remember entering the hallway on the basement floor that led to the dressing rooms, and the soul-crushing dread and fear that settled deep into my being. It wasn't just in my gut, it was everywhere; in my head, in my heart, arms, legs. Every inch of my body was screaming at me to not go there, but I knew I had no other choice. 

Because no matter what I did – went to PE class or skipped it – I would be punished for it. The punishment was always a bit different, but one thing I did know: I would much rather take the gym dressing rooms than the wrath of that monster of a PE teacher I had back in elementary.

But it was all the same; it was agonizing whatever I did. And every time I had to go to those rooms deep in the basement, I knew what I had for coming.

It is definitely fascinating how little a child's brain is able to comprehend of the traumatic things the child is being put through. Especially as a neurodivergent Kid, you might struggle with understanding social cues of any kind, even abusive implications and actions that are targeted towards you. This makes it very easy for victims to suffer from imposter syndrome: why am I realizing this just now? What if I am making all of these memories up just to gain sympathy points from strangers? Why didn't I know what the fuck was going on back then? I think we've all been there to some extent. 

But you would be surprised at the amount of protection your brain is capable of. Because there is a reason why you're remembering these things just now, as you are nearing the age of 25. Now, your brain is finally able to comprehend just what actually took place, and how it all affected you – even when you weren't completely aware of its existence. 

dressing room 1.

I didn't understand the situation at the time, mainly because I wasn't even aware of the fact that girls can feel, do, and say things like that about each other and to each other. I simply just didn't know that being gay was a thing. And it wasn't because of a sheltered family or conservative parents (my parents are the antithesis on those two things), it was just a product of its time: the late 2000s and early 2010s were a time period characterized by the lack of any LGBTQ+ representation in any media. 

So yes, girls can feel that way about other girls, that is normal. What isn't normal, though, is asking violating questions you have no business knowing the answers to without my consent. 

And I didn't consent. I didn't agree upon having a sexually charged conversation with one of my Friends at the gym dressing room in front of all my other Friends. And I most certainly did not consent upon them violating my personal space, looming over me, when I was only wearing my underwear, as an 11-year-old little girl who started their puberty just as early as their mom and liked other girls.

And I wonder if these were some of the experiences that pushed me even further into the closet, why it took me until I was 20 years old and sleeping in the same bed with a man to realize that I was a lesbian. If anything, they did make me even more scared of other girls than I already was. So scared I thought if would be better to pretend as if the issue didn't exist in the first place. 

So I didn't even dare to look. Because what if they're all like that? How could I ever be sure?

With fear,

ichigonya