How to Humiliate a Young Woman (Girl)
Once Upon a Time
Once upon a time, there was a young girl who was very personally excited about becoming a woman. In grammar school they showed the films of how beautiful it would be and feel and she could not wait for her day to arrive.
On her 13th Birthday, her "period" began. She was a little humiliated because she was at her own bowling birthday party when it happened. Still, she was excited. It was like a very special birthday present, personally and privately to her. She asked her mother if they could just finish the party and go home. Since the party was just about over anyway, her mother said "Okay." She never told her mother about her top secret present. There was no need to.
She remained silent about her developing body, trying to learn the happenings beyond that grammar school film by confiding and inquiring of so-called "girlfriends." As she discovered very quickly, those girlfriends were nothing but traitors to her confidences and seemed to go out of their way to publicize her secrets. For example, she used to have crushes or a crush on a certain boy or boys. That was perfectly normal. All of the girls did. But for this girl, the "girlfriends" would go out of their way to tell the boy "She Loves You" right in front of the whole class.
As a result of continued humiliating circumstances, she buried her hurt deeper and deeper inside. She became more and more unsocial with "the girls" and started writing instead to express her feelings and figure things out on her own.
She was very excited about the fact of either being able to purchase, or receiving as a gift, a diary. She started writing everyday about what she was learning about male-female relationships. After she wrote, she would lock the diary with the little key and hide it, but where it would still be convenient for her to make her daily entries.
Her first diary was the color red. She would giggle as she wrote about her experiences with boys, all the time learning things like "that she should become an expert kisser." So she kept practicing. One day, she was invited to the birthday party of the boy who was "the ultimate best kisser" in the entire city. She was so excited even to be invited. A group of boys and girls met and took a bus ride to his sister's house. It was a surprise party. She was surprised to find out that the party was in an empty room that had nothing but maybe cushions on the floor and a closet. Needless to say, this expert kisser boy arrived. He then PICKED HER to go in the closet with him. She went "whoaaaaaaaaaaaaa."
Needless to say, they started kissing. Then they kept kissing. And kept kissing. A long time must have passed, because everyone kind of laughed when the closet door finally opened. The girl was so proud of herself. She felt she finally graduated the ultimate kissing school. So she moved on to bigger and better things.
All the while, she was giggling as she wrote in her diary.
One day, her mother called her into the livingroom. Her sister was also there with a smirk on her face. They had read her diary and apparently showed other kids in the neighborhood. They were laughing and laughing. So the mother said, "We read your diary. Are you really doing the things you wrote?"
Not quite knowing what to say, she said "No. I'm just writing a story."
So the mother said, "Okay," beginning to laugh herself. The girl got up and went to her room and checked her hiding place and to see if the diary was still locked. It was. So she still felt safe expressing herself honestly to herself and they would think it was just a story if they snooped again.
Little did this young girl know, but the mother and sister continued with the privacy invasion. They distributed all of her personal, private "growing up." She began to wonder if they were even making a profit from her secret strife. With all her practice and graduating in becoming a sensuous woman, she was never able to find true love. It seemed everyone kept laughing at her true talent and she could not figure out why. She kept silent to herself.
The now young woman never, ever went to her mother about anything personal. Nor her sister, when it came to anything other than just being a sister. She tried making girlfriends, but they always seemed to "not be too interested" in remaining good friends, even when they first let on that a feeling was mutual. A self-protective and self-preserving instinct was hence automated. It's called "indifference." She knew that no matter what, they could no longer hurt her and their continued efforts would be futile, if that were the case.
Learning What Love is All About
A Greater Lesson Learned
So who shall be the greater person(s)? Those that devoted their lives to painfully hurting an innocent woman, or the young woman, who shall forget. In finding peace while discovering the reality of God, God promised "No More Tears." All pain from suffering was immediately extinguished and she responded, "Thank you, God." She learned you have to take some things with a grain of salt, get over it, burn that bridge and evolve toward better and brighter possibilities. For "life moves not backwards, nor tarries with yesterday" - Gibran.