*possible trigger warning

When I was 12, my mom took me to the doctor for a well child check up. It was a new doctor because we had just moved cross country. I developed very early (precocious puberty) and had full breasts at 12. I was very embarrassed and shy about it. The doctor was just doing a very normal exam, then wrapped her hand in a fistful of my shirt, and pulled it up. I crossed my arms over my chest to try to hide my breasts and told her “no, please stop”. Her reply was “I’m a doctor, you have to let me”, and overpowered me and ripped my shirt up, exposing my breasts. I gave up fighting at that point, and let her examine and touch my breasts. I was very depressed and had trouble eating for most of my teenage years after this. I was so ashamed I showered with a swimsuit on and hated being naked. But, I didn’t actually *think* about that doctors visit much, if that makes sense.

Fast forward 15 years and I find out I’m pregnant, and make it past the 2nd trimester (I lost my first baby). I start thinking about that doctors appointment all the time and freaking out about finding her a good pediatrician. I got many trusted friends advice, talked to doctors, but still could not choose a pediatrician for my daughter until we were in the hospital after giving birth. She was jaundiced and had a 3 day stay due to it after being born, so we had to have a follow up set up before we could leave the hospital. It sounds stupid, but I let them pick one for me. That turned out to be the biggest blessing in the world, as her doctor is sweet, so kind, and truly cares about my daughter. I could never see her doing anything like that to my child in the future.

Now this is the part that sounds really crazy. I have been with my husband since I was 19. He asked permission for everything when we became intimate. It was always on my terms, and I never had any problems with intimacy. He made (and still makes) me feel safe always and is a very honorable person. Now, since becoming pregnant with my daughter (who is now 1) and thinking about my experience at 12 a lot, I don’t enjoy him touching my chest anymore. I feel so guilty and like I’m all of a sudden making a big deal out of nothing. He knows what happened and I’ve explained to him how I feel now, and he was very sweet about it, said I’m not crazy and that he understands and respects how I feel. But still, I feel like I’m literally insane for being uncomfortable with my husband touching me now, and we’ve been together 10 years.

It feels better sharing my story, so thanks to everyone who read through my novel ❤️