Puberty hit me early and hard. Very hard. That growth spurt hit me when some kids were still losing their milk teeth and baby fat. It was that early bloomer who was the object of snickers during Home Science lessons when the teacher would whip out a list of ‘symptoms’ of adolescence. I had contracted it earlier than most of my contemporaries. The sudden growth spurt had left me towering over my classmates and my face became a veritable farm, sprouting little pimples on every oily inch. It was torture. Absolute torture.
That said, puberty had a summer romance with me. It was intense and crazy but ultimately it was incomplete. It was a fling. It’s like puberty woke up one day and just decided I wasn’t good enough for her anymore. Just woke up, packed her bags and…(Ok I think you get the relationship metaphors). Point is everyone seemed to catch up and left me behind still looking like a half-formed adult. I swear I have the years to prove it but the body (and at times, the brains) of a child. I am continuously reminded by an evil, evil friend that I need to stop shopping in the 8-15 section in shops because I apparently look like a pedophile. It’s not my fault that it’s the only place I can find fitting clothes. (Disclaimer: My shoes are actually adult sized. I would take pics and post those but that would just seem petty)