Hey, Who Wants To See Old Embarrassing Photos of Me?

A few weeks ago my mom came out for a visit and brought hundreds of old photos with her. Every single one of them had me in them, she’d sorted through all these old pictures in her house and gave myself and my siblings these old treasures; we each got a pile of ourselves. Some of them I’d seen a hundred times, and some I’d never seen.

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She even brought them in an old Lifetouch school picture envelope…

Ugh, the memories.

Going through these gave me such a wave of emotions but not in a sappy, blubbery way. Mostly, I laughed and simply basked in the nostalgia that was. 

Then, I came across this one:

Hot damn, I loved that sweater. Wore it in my school photo that year…

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Proof. Those teeth, though…

I’m sure my mom had to throw it away while I was at my dad’s for the weekend and console me when I noticed it was “missing” once it was too ill-fitting. Life has a silly way of bringing you up and tearing you down, while the universe quietly humbles you (with insanely large chompers).

Flipping through these photographs provided me with some insight: life was happening, the whole timeWhen I do the minimal memory seeking, it’s easy to forget the candidness and realness that was. Mindful memories will only give me what I want it to give, while the pictures provide the backstory.

I do remember that day, the one when the photo up there was taken, but I didn’t remember the loveliness that was just spinning around and dancing in my backyard. 1993, nine years old and my mom saught to capture me, the same way I capture my ten-year-old with my smartphone.

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She probably had to wait a week to get that back. Who knows if she would have even kept it, nonetheless printed if it was today’s day and age. I’m going to start printing pictures of my kid, keep them somewhere safe, and someday I’ll hand him a big ol’ stack and let him reminisce in his own way.

I do have some honorable mentions because I wouldn’t go through hundreds and only share those, that’d be selfish.

These two are to prove that resting bitch face is something that can be detected early on. I’m sure I was happy, even though I look way less than impressed.

These two are to show my killer fashion sense. Scrunchies and jean jackets are life…

And finally, these two are to show that whatever year this was, was the absolute worst (and you should never, ever cut your own bangs).

Disclaimer: Explicit Language – Because Someone Grabbed My P****.

Maybe he didn’t grab it. Perhaps it was more of a slap. I don’t know, and to be frank I have no obligation to explain details – he put his hand on my private parts, end of story. It doesn’t matter how, when, why, where or what the specifics were that day. What does matter, to me anyway, is that I call him out publicly, in hopes that he stops being such a goddamn creep.
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I’ll tell you the whole story, but first I want to let other people know, if you’ve been disrespected, or sexually harassed – stand your ground. The humiliation does not lie on you. Maybe it doesn’t seem significant enough but at the very least… call them out. Spread the word, because shame on them, not us.
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So anyway, I went to a bar to celebrate my friend’s birthday and a guy took it upon himself to grab my crotch, unprovoked and absolutely uninvited. He legit, Donald-Trump-Pussy-Grabbed me. This man was, and is not a stranger but he’s certainly not a friend. I’d maybe call him an acquaintance if he wasn’t such a douchebag, and if that term didn’t sound a little friendly. Unfortunately, our lives seem to cross paths about once a week, so I was less than surprised when he was also there to celebrate.
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I was walking towards the bathroom when the birthday girl and crotch-grabber started walking in my direction, excited because they had just won some money on the gambling machine. Happy for her, who shouldn’t win on their birthday? I hugged her, not paying much attention to the guy at the center of the story. This is when it happened. I felt it, grasped my friend’s face and with wide eyes exclaimed:..
OH MY FUCKING GOD, HE JUST GRABBED MY PUSSY!
Yes, I am a lady, and sometimes ladies use that word also. Especially when the situation calls for more serious vocabulary, of the colorful variety.
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I walked away, shocked, passing another friend and without hesitation I told her too. I did not, and still do not care who knows. I have no interest in protecting him and ideally he’d be as embarrassed as humanly possible.
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So, here we are.
After I exited the bathroom he approached me, and hold onto your shorts folks because you’ll never guess what he said to me. He did not apologize, rather told me that I need to simmer down. Me. Simmer down. I am not typically one to have a filter, and looking back now I’m disgustingly surprised that I did not lose my shit on him right then and there. I was so offended that I simply walked away.
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Then, after already taking it upon himself to make my body his entertainment, and after his snarky attitude followed… he had the audacity to approach me yet again.
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He rested his elbow on my shoulder, I looked up at him and plainly stated: My husband will kill you. His response? “Are you threatening me?” If you didn’t stress that statement with a solid douchebag accent, feel free to re-read it. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, while all of this is taking place my husband is at the event with me. That takes balls, his confidence is astounding.
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I don’t know if he’s stupid enough to believe women, married women at that, are into grotesque social graces such as those or if he’s simply just a tasteless little boy with a lack of morals. Either way, it doesn’t matter. I’m not impressed, and sincerely hope he finds himself reading this and feels even the most mild sense of shame.
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This happened three month ago. Initially I kept this from my husband because 1.) I didn’t want him to go to jail and 2.) I didn’t want to put myself, or my man in a position where he’d have to ask me – Why would he think it’s okay to do that? It’s a fair question. Why did Creeper McCreeperston feel like that was okay? What gives someone that caliber of entitlement? I have no answers, but secrets out. Now everyone knows.
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So to you: you know who you are, you know that other people know who you are. I’m hoping that since I got this off my chest I can finally start doing what you asked and simmer down. None of the questions I asked here require an answer, you’re not worth my time. I’m not threatening you, but politely warning: don’t talk to me, don’t look at me, and keep your fucking hands off me. Don’t offer to put my drink on your tab, and stop pretending that we’re friends. To me, you’re nothing more than a disgusting bar rat. 
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One & [Happily] Done.

In case you’re someone who hasn’t asked me yet, I have zero plans to create any more human beings. The words, ‘Perfectly Content’ come to mind when I think about the three person operation I have going on.

We have a dad, a mom and our 8 year old.

Being pregnant wasn’t a negative experience & has nothing to do with the choice I’ve made. I loved being pregnant. Growing a person inside your body is kind of an amazing experience & I’d totally do it again…If I didn’t have to be thrown back into infant parenting.

quoteHave you ever gotten married, and then told people you weren’t trying to make a
baby? It’s interesting. Depending on the person, the emotions vary. You have the really disappointed grandparents, the new-parent-friends who want to make sure you’re sure it’s the right decision & then there are the people who just stare at you – confused.

Allow me to explain:

My child is currently basking in his independence and we all love it. Why would I want to disrupt that?

He’s old enough to appreciate awesome day trips [that he’ll remember] and he can play outside without supervision.  He helps out around the house AND he’s fun to be around.

I was young when I had my human & I will be young when he moves out. I didn’t plan it this way; I thought I’d have more than one, but before we knew it he was eight years old. Who wants to start all over again when you’re about half way done?!

Let’s talk about money; I do not swim in it. I want to provide my son with as much security and awesomeness as possible. Unlike a lot of my generation, I don’t agree with bringing more children into the world when we’re not financially prepared for it.

I made that mistake once while it all worked out, I learned from it.

Our entire dynamic would change if an infant was introduced to our family. I don’t even remember what it’s like to have a baby. I don’t remember what it’s like to have a toddler. Having legit conversations with my offspring… it’s what I’ve gotten used to.

One & [Happily] Done.