It’s a weird thing for me to say, “I can really relate to that supermodel”.
At first glance it’s hard to see any common ground. I’m not skinny, not tall, not paid to strut in my underwear on runways, nor would I ever be seen gallivanting on a yacht with Leonardo DiCaprio. So when I found myself nodding along to Emily Ratajkowski’s piece in Lena Dunham’s newsletter, Lenny, it really caught me by surprise.
You might recognise Ratajkowski (pronounced Rat-a-kow-ski), from Robin Thicke’s infamous ‘Blurred Lines’ video, or, more recently, as Ben Affleck’s side chick in Gone Girl. So when I opened the latest Lenny letter titled, ‘Emily Ratajkowski’s definition of sexy’, I didn’t expect to read a beautiful tale about a young girl who developed early and was sexualised from a young age. When I opened it, I certainly never expected to say, ‘Hey, that’s me.’
I got my first period when I was ten. I was at a family friend’s house, went to the bathroom and there it was, just staring back at me. Thankfully we had already been taught about ‘what to expect’ when this happens, so a short while later, when we arrived home, I calmly told my mum and she showed me where she kept the pads and tampons. And that was that.
It wasn’t long before boobs, cramps and hair in foreign places followed.
“[I was] a 12-year-old with D-cup breasts who still woke up in the night and asked her mum to come and sleep in her room,” Ratajkowski wrote.
“Growing up, my father would lovingly refer to me as a ‘baby woman’. I was safe in the in-between place of half-baby, half-woman.”
I too was a baby woman, a child with breasts she had no clue what to do with. I had a woman’s body before I even knew how to be a woman and what being a woman meant to me.
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Ratajkowski said it was those closest to her that made her feel the most uncomfortable about her developing sexuality. For me, it was the opposite. For me, it was the men who thought they had the right to comment on my body now that it was shapely. It was the men who would wolf-whistle at me while I was delivering the daily paper around my neighbourhood. It was even the young boys at school who liked to ‘rank’ girls by their chest sizes when we were 12.
I always felt developing early was more a curse than a blessing. It was a few years before my friends began to get their periods, which at that age felt like a lifetime. Other than the obvious physical developments, I could see a certain divide between my friends and I. I felt more ‘mature’ having to deal with this Big Life Thing once a month. I started wearing bras with underwire and started caring more about how I looked, something I’d never really thought about before.