How to ruin a 12 year old girl's day.

I’ve had hips since I was 12. Proper hips. Childbearing hips - my ex-boyfriend referred to them as. Note the emphasis on ex. 

Although the Kardashians promote products that claim you can lose 5 stone in an hour and appetite suppressant lollipops, I do have to give them credit - they have done a lot for girls with hips. 

 

Since they became more famous, I haven’t really cared so much about having hips and a big bum, but when I was 12 - already 5ft8 with my ‘childbearing hips’ - I felt like I was the fattest human on the planet.

 

All of my friends (both the boys and girls) were still 5 foot nothing and still looked like kids, whereas I looked more like one of the teachers and I absolutely hated it. 

 

I remember my mum telling me that she had exactly the same issue when she was the same age as me - but obviously, that didn’t help me when I was 12 (sorry, Mum). 

 

I was already trying to cope with all these changes to my body but as I was always known as being confident I didn’t feel like I could tell anyone at school how I felt. 

 

It was about the same time that auditions for the school play began.

 

I wasn’t allowed to be in the school play the year before as I’d been mucking around in auditions and was forced to leave. But this year, I had redeemed myself and was made one of the main parts - and I was ready to show the world ‘Kirsty’.

 

As I was the main character - I got to have a costume made for me. In front of the classroom with the entire cast of the play in it - the teacher shouted: “Kirsty, you’re probably a size 8 or 10 aren’t you?” 

 

Now, if somebody shouted that across a room now... I’d be ecstatic, but I was 12 years old, unhappy with having hips and still wanted to be buying clothes in the 9-15 range of New Look, I was mortified and mumbled - “Um… I think more of a size 8 than a 10”.

 

The play came and went and was a huge success - for the first time in my school life teachers were being nice to my parents about me.

 

My mum and dad were used to getting phone calls from the school to discuss my disruptive (more like hilarious) behaviour, but I felt like for the next 4 weeks - I was probably going to be off the hook. 

 

Pictures of the play were put up on the notice boards, it was the talk of the school -but specifically, the two popular girls in the year above.

 

I was walking up the corridor stairs to go to ICT, a few minutes late which meant the hallways were completely quiet. They were staring at the notice board. They hadn’t noticed me behind them, which became rather apparent as one of them scowled to the other “She isn’t even that pretty you know?” 

 

Then they turned around and saw me trying to quickly and quietly dart up the stone staircase to my lesson. They then overcompensated and said very loudly “Yes, Mrs Higgins isn’t that pretty” - trying to cover up the shame of being caught being a total bitch, but I knew.

 

What I now know is that “She isn’t even THAT pretty” is actually a compliment. If I was ugly, they could have called me ugly, but they knew they couldn’t so they reached for “not THAT pretty” - which means I am still a #stunner xoxo

 

The easiest way to upset a young girl is to comment on their appearance. By the time we are a bit older, the years of criticism and unachievable standards start to wash over us a bit more and we become slightly happier with ourselves, but when I was 12 and a big-hipped, lanky freak - I didn’t want the popular girls thinking the same thing about me. 

 

I took an extra minute before walking into my lesson, now 8 minutes late - to try and compose myself.

 

Mr Parry said being late for a lesson was enough to call up my parents for a chat about my behaviour… and my 5-minutes-of-fame was officially over.