When I was little, there was nothing more I wanted than to grow up quickly. It was especially true each time my mother went ballistic – and often, abusive – over some menial matter, but that’s another story for another time.
I wanted to grow boobs and be sexy like grown-up women I saw in magazines. I wanted to be glamourous, beautiful, independent and most importantly, away from my mother. I dreamt of a handsome man who would sweep me off my feet, and we would be married in a gorgeous wedding ceremony.
Needless to say, reality fell far from the daydream tree.
The most bizarre thing about my current reality is how instead of growing up like I had always wanted to, I seem to have unwittingly been growing down, something I could never have imagined.
I can, and have, held my own on many various occasions, but yet all I wish to be is a helpless in the company of Hubs. And the way I’d ask him for 10 kisses is just beyond juvenile. Maybe I should be ashamed, but what can I say? I’m just a big girl who wants to be a little girl basking in unconditional love. :p