Hi everyone 😃

I'm a bit of a journaler. A 'memory hoarder' as my friends say. I'm always writing down as much of any signigicant events of my life as I can. I don't really know why. Maybe coz my grandparents are really forgetful, and if I take detailed notes of my life, when I'm like that later on, I'll be able to read back things and maybe it'll keep in my brain longer. I dunno.

Anyway, a friend of mine reckoned I should post this one about my first 'big girl' physical exam last year, as she says there's a bit of a market out there for this, so I hope you like it!

Everything here is a true account of my first 'well woman' exam, aged 18, written down a few hours later, so it's about as accurate as I can get.

** FYI (as I've since read that in other countries, this kinda exam happens in a gyno clinic): I'm an Australian girl, living a few hours out of Sydney. In Australia, our doctor does all the kinda stuff I'm writing about unless there's a problem. It's only then that they'll send you to a gynaecologist. So yeah, now you know! 😜

*****

To preface my story, my mother died when I was only 7 years old, so my dad's been my sole parent ... and let's just say he does his best, but he's not really up to speed too much when it comes to all things 'girly'! He came to me about 6 weeks before, after having just read about it, and suggested that I'm a few years overdue to have my development checked. Long story short, he got me to agree to have it done, but it did take about a month for that to happen ... I was scared about the whole thing, and while I've had a couple of short-term boyfriends, I've never been with anyone long enough for them to see anything that I have under my clothes. One did try, but a quick feel of my boobs on top of my shirt was as close as he got ... or ever will get (but that's another story entirely!). Even for that I was heaps nervous. I mean, what did he think about them? Hell, what did 'I' think about him touching them! I was too nervous to even pay attention to whether I liked him doing it or not!

Anyhoo, Dad convinced me, so here's what I wrote that day:

*****

It's here. The day has arrived. A day I've been dreading for, like, forever. At 11am, another human being other than myself is going to look at my naked body. Like, everything. E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G. I want to cancel the appointment, put MORE clothing on, and hide in a cave for a while ... but as Dad says, "No problem is solved by running away. You'll have to come back and the problem will still be there", so I'll do it and just hope I don't faint with embarrassment! I've never been so scared. Sometimes it sux to be a girl...

=====

Okay, I'm here, and Dad's here too for moral support. The receptionist gives me a couple of forms to fill in. My hands are starting to shake, so my handwriting's all over the place. It's normally MUCH nicer than this! I look around, and there's a few people here today, but they're all looking at their phones, or trying to get their kids to behave. No-one seems to be anxious like me. Oh god, I REALLY don't wanna be here. One by one, people's names get called out. Part of me just wants to get it over with, but most of me wishes they forget about me all together!

"Ellie Simpson?" *(not my real name, by the way. Just using it to protect myself online!)

"Dammit!", I think to myself.

I stand up as confidently and cooly as I can so as maybe to trick myself into thinking I'm okay with this. Am I fooling anyone?! I ask Dad if he's coming in with me, but he says he'd prefer not to unless I need him there. I think about it for a moment, but I figure I can always get someone to get him if I do need him. I leave him to keep reading some rubbish womens gossip magazine, and I follow the doctor to his office.

I walk in and look around. His desk and some chairs are right there in front of me. To the left there's a curtain and peeking out behind it is a bed covered in what looks like fish 'n' chip paper. At the back of the room there is a cupboard with some drawers, and next to that, behind the doctor's desk, is a bookshelf full of thick, impressive-looking, probably expensive books.

I'm now inside the room and I close the door. He tells me to take a seat while he looks at his computer screen and skim reads some paperwork. Probably the forms I filled in out in the waiting room? I don't really pay any attention. My heart's racing a thousand miles an hour.

"So, you're here for a general checkup, I see?"

I'm nervous, so all I can do is nod shyly and say 'yes' with my eyes.

He continues: "And I see that you've requested a Well Woman examination?"

"I have." Oh god, my voice is all jittery. I can't hide my nervousness, but he gives me a warm, comforting smile. He has been my doctor for a few years now, so although I don't need to go very often, at least he's not a complete stranger, and I know he's very good and professional.

"For these kind of exams, some women prefer to have a nurse or a family member or friend present. Is that something you would you like today?"

I can only think of one thing worse than having someone stare right at my naked bits and pieces ... and that's to have TWO people doing it! I think of my dad sitting outside, and while I'm okay with him being in the room (I KNOW for a fact he's not going to be looking!!), I know he'll probably be almost more shy than me. Well, maybe..! I decline his offer.

The doctor then asks me a heap of health questions. "How are you?", "Do you have any concerns or problems?", etc, and then some embarrassing questions about my period, if I have sex... that sorta thing. He seems happy with my answers, so then he starts all the usual doctor stuff. Things like blood pressure, looking in my ears, throat, eyes, feeling the sides of my neck. I'm waiting for him to bring out that little hammer thing you see on tv to knock my knees, but nup, seemingly not today. In fact, I've never seen that thing. Maybe they don't do it anymore? I dunno. It's only a passing thought. I don't have time to think too much about it, because then he puts his stethoscope in his ears and comes around to my chair. He asks me to take some deep breaths, and starts to put the other end, the cold end, in various places all over my back. Thankfully on top of my shirt. I know that's going to have to come off in a few minutes anyway, but I'm thankful for the delay. Then he comes around to the front, and does the same, but this time he puts the thing directly on my skin under my shirt collar, just above the top of my boobs. I must have flinched a little or pulled myself away, because he asks me to relax and sit still. Whoops! He takes it out from under my shirt and places it on the bottom side of my left boobie then slightly round the side, before doing it on my other boob. I suspect that he only has to do it a couple of times on my boobs because, let's just say that nature didn't bestow upon me particularly big ones. Or regular sizes ones. I'm not quite a 10 year old boy, but my years of playing regular sport mean I'm more suited to running than feeding infants! I have read that they can still grow into my 20s, so I'll just have to wait and see!

Anyway, he's happy with all he heard. My blood pressure's a little high, he says, and asks if I'm nervous. Duh! I think I've lost a few kg's in sweat just in my palms alone! I want to run away, or at least crawl into a ball in a corner, but instead, I just smile and squeak out a "Yep". It seemed a better thing to do. 😜

He asks me to stand on the scales to weigh me, then up against a measuring chart on the wall to note down my height. He leans over to his computer to pop those details in. I don't know why, but at this moment, I wonder if he and other men have to have similar exams to the one I'm about to have ... and why haven't I heard about them?!

My thought train is derailed straight away when he explains what's about to happen. He tells me that I'm to get all nakey (my words, not his!), put on some kinda robe thing, put a sheet over my lap to preserve my modesty (which I figure is kinda dumb, because he's about to be all up in that bizness!), and to tell him when I'm ready (he shouldn't have said that ... like I'm EVER gonna be ready for this...). He'll first feel around my boobs, making sure there's nothing wrong, then he'll have a quick peek too. I don't know what's gonna be worse ... touching or looking. 😢

Then I'll get to cover up again and he'll check out my stomach area before heading south (again, my words!). He mentions he'll be looking at my bits, then touching, then putting fingers in. I'm glad he checked my blood pressure BEFORE telling me all this. I mean I know it's all coming, but him telling me what is about to transpire just makes it so much worse. He again reassures me (maybe my anxiety is showing again!), and tells me that we can stop at any time if I ask him to. I'm relieved when he tells me that I don't need a cervical screening until I become sexually active or once I reach the age of 25, so at least that's SOME good news today! I seriously consider never ever having sex to at least delay doing this. Surely people exist that are like that and have a happy, normal life?

He tells me that what I am doing today should really have been done a few years ago, in my earlier years of developing, but he's happy that I'm doing it. "Better late than never!". I'm not so sure... 😢

He then tells me I can go behind the curtain and undress completely. He places a greeny-bluey coloured gown thing and a small light-blue coloured medically-looking sheet thing on the head of the bed, and turns around and sits at his desk to put some notes into his computer. I hear the click-clicking of the keyboard as I pull the curtain around me. This is the part I am dreading. I don't know if I can do it. I'm hesitating. Pausing. How long have I stood here? 2 seconds? 5 minutes? Feels like forever. "C'mon Ellie. Get it done" I tell myself. Some kinda self-motivation. It's working though. I slip off my sandals, and then off comes my shirt. Okay, I'm standing here in my shorts and bra. "Maybe he can just tell everything's okay by what he can see now?!" Wishful thinking, I know. "Don't be silly, Ellie. Come on."

I reach behind and undo my bra. I slowly, one shoulder at a time, remove the straps, but I'm still holding my bra over my little boobs. I can feel my heart pounding against my chest wall. This is torture. I should treat this whole thing like a bandaid and just rip the sucker off ... but I never do that with real bandaids! Maybe I'm one of those people that secretly revel in pain.

I'm sure the doctor is starting to wonder what's taking so long now. I'm still back here behind the curtain in my shorts and am still attempting to cover my boobies.

"Bugger it", I think to myself, and I drop my bra onto my shirt. I look down, and there they are. My boobs are now out. I can feel the air-con gently circulating a cool breeze over them. I now realise that only a piece of material suspended from that curtain rod on the ceiling is all that is between my naked nipples and another person. A human adult male is 2m away in the same room and I can hear him making quiet clicky noises with his tongue as he types away.

I look back down again, beyond my boobs, and I'm looking at my little denim shorts. I'm still nervous as hell, but the pause seems to be less this time, as before I know it, my hands are undoing the button and zip. In slides my thumbs between my hips and the top of my shorts, and with some kind of pseudo-confidence, I'm pushing them down, letting them drop to my feet, and taking them off. Onto the pile of clothes goes my shorts. A pile of clothes that somehow gives me superhuman strength to just walk around in public with other people and not even think about it. Take them off, however, and I become uber-conscious and totally incapable of being anywhere outside of my own bedroom or bathroom.

And then: There I am. One item of clothing remains. A simple pair of size 10 black cotton underpants from Kmart. The last line of defence of my modesty. I start to mentally praise them for such heroic duties and I start concocting weird situations in my head in which they save me, when I'm snapped out of it by the doctor's voice.

"Are you about ready?"

I must have been pausing for a lot longer than I realised this time.

"Almost. Sorry!" I replied. Again, my thumbs head to the hem of my underpants and after a momentary split-second pause, I bend over and make them head south.

Now I'm naked. Oh god. I'm totally nude. In a public place. Well, not 'public' public. It's not like I'm standing in the centre of town at peak time, but it's not the safety of my own home either. I can't believe how frightened I am. This is the single scariest thing I've EVER done. My hands are trembling. My underpants are on the floor. My boobs are out. My vag is out! All three of them have been hidden from the world since I was a little kid ... but there they are! I'm taking a mental picture of myself right now. Maybe to try and convince myself that this isn't in fact some terrible dream. I'm incredibly nervous, but at the same time actually kinda proud of myself that I'm being a grown-up. And because I've taken my clothes off in a strange place. For a moment, I stand completely upright with pride and more of that pretend confidence. Hands down at my sides, chin up, and I push my chest out. Yep, right now, I can do ANYTHING.

Including putting on the gown.

That's a good idea.

So I do just that. "Wow, that's SHORT" I say to myself. It barely reaches halfway down to my knees. Yep, another downside for being tall, I suppose. It's right now that I wished I was a shorty! Thankfully my boobs are fairly insignificant, too, so that they don't push the sleeveless gown out too much (*note, I wear 'b' cups ... but I don't even fill them!). I pick up the blue sheet thing and make my way around to the middle of the bed and sit down, making sure to cross my ankles and putting the sheet well over my lap. The doctor turns on his swivelly chair, stands up, and heads my way. He must sense my increasing nervousness because he tells me to relax, that he's going to be quick and gentle, and that this whole thing will be over before I know it.

God, I hope so.

He tells me that he's now going to inspect my breasts, one at a time. He stands in front of me, slightly to my right, and asks me to put my right hand behind my head. I do as I'm asked, but my left hand is firmly holding the gown closed. This is all now happening in slow-motion. Some higher being is slowing time right down now just for a laugh, I'm sure of it! The doctor uses his left hand to partly open the gown up around my chest area, and slips his right hand in under it.

I've now got a massive lump in my throat. The anticipation is killing me. I JUST WANT THIS OVER WITH!

Oh GOD! I feel his hand. HIS HAND IS ON MY RIGHT BOOB!!! My little warm soft boobie has a not-so-warm man's hand on it! I realise later on that I started holding my breath at about this point. Doctor tells me something about what he's going to be doing, but all I can hear is a dull hum of his voice. I can't make out what he's saying properly. My eyes are closed tight. I think I'm still holding my breath. He starts putting a bit of pressure on with his fingers, moving them around in slow little circles, starting on the underneath of my boob. He then starts to do it again, this time around a bit, closer to my armpit. Then again even closer to my armpit. Now he's heading towards what would be the 11 o'clock position of my boob, then 12, now 1 o'clock, etc. Going around the outer edges of my right boob (rather slowly, I might add!), doing his little circles in every spot. Then he starts the same thing again, but inwards towards my nipple a bit, going around the whole boob. The thought again enters my head that it REALLY SUX TO BE A GIRL!!! Now he's smack bang in the centre. The bullseye. My little nipple, which doesn't yet have a lot of colour or 'classic nipple shape', is getting pushed in towards my chest wall. I'm not loving this. It's rather uncomfortable.

The doctor tells me that everything feels good so far, and that he'll now do the left breast. Down comes my right hand, which immediately takes the job of keeping my gown as closed as possible, and up goes my left hand.

In slips his hand again, and yet again, the hand of a human male is now resting on the flesh of this teenage girl's left breast. Surely he can feel my heart pounding heavily! Same as before, he (slowly) uses his fingers in circles, going around my boobie clock, circling inwards, and DING DING DING! He's reached the bullseye.

He again tells me that he's happy with how everything feels to him, and asks me to lie down so he can do it again. "AGAIN?!!" 😢

And so he does. I'm now lying down looking at the ceiling and its' square panels, and into my field of vision is the doctor again, looking down at me and reaching for my gown. Again, he asks me to raise my left arm up and tells me to let my right arm relax down by my side. In again goes his now-warmer hand and again he places his fingers upon my left boob. He goes all around like he did before, seemingly just as slow ("Is he enjoying this? I mean, he's a man afterall..."), but this time after he massages my nipple, he tells me he's just going to give it a little squeeze and that it might be uncomfortable for a moment. I look down at his hand, and see that the gown has been pushed open enough over that boob so that both of us can see most of her. I hope my brave exterior is hiding how humiliated I'm feeling right now. True to his word, he takes my squishy nipple in between his finger and thumb (well, not the tip of the nipple like I expected, but sorta down just a bit, pinching the area just outside the base) and gives it a bit of a roll and a hard squeeze that makes me produce a short, sharp involuntary intake of air. I think he apologised. That was nice of him. 😜

Nothing came out ("Was something MEANT to come out?? Am I normal because nothing did, or is something wrong?" So many questions...).

Now it's onto my right boobie again. She was starting to feel left out...NOT! Again with the feely-feelies, and again it's time to try milking this cow. Finger and thumb poised, in position, and I hold my breath again, knowing what's coming. It's this moment that my quirky sense of humour kicks in and I half-want my nipple to make a bicycle horn noise when he squeezes it. The thought amuses me enough to almost completely distract myself when he gives my nipple a firm pull.

He comments that everything's perfectly normal, asks me to sit up again for a bit, and says he'll now do a quick visual to make sure my development is on track. A VISUAL?!? I mean, I know he's just felt me up (congrats to him, by the way, for being the first to ever do it skin-on-skin!), but now he wants to look properly at my girls too?! This is the worst day of my life...

I sit up again and swing my legs around to dangle off the side of the bed, being super mindful not to let the blue sheet come away from what it hides beneath. He asks me to sit up straight, put my hands on my hips and push, tightening up my chest muscles. As I reluctantly do this, he opens up my gown from the top, and pushes it down my arms and body, down to my waist, and into the glorious fluroescent lights, in full view, out come both boobs.

No hiding them any more.

I think the worst of my anxiety is behind me now. I'm still all jittery inside, but I'm sitting here in front of this mid-50s man, naked from the waist up, and I'm not passing out. This feels SO surreal though. I'm taking another mental picture as I half-look down at my exposed boobs and half-up at this man looking right back at them. He studies them from the front, looking from one to the other and back again a few times before moving to one side to get a side-on view, then to the other side to complete the full 360° picture. He then asks me to put both hands behind my head, and he does the same thing again. Front, side, then other side. I'm proud of myself for not flinching ... but I REALLY just wanna cover up and go home!

"Okay, Ellie, you can relax now".

"Sure, matey, SURE I can relax." I say in my head. "You're not the one sitting naked getting all touched up and stared at!"

Then he asks if I've ever been taught how to do a self-examination.

"Umm, no!" I tell him straight up. "Oh god", I think to myself yet again, "I know what's coming..."

Yep. I'm not covering up yet. He tells me that I should be doing it once every few weeks, at about the same time in my cycle, and that I need to get to know how my breasts look and feel. Apparently I need to look in a mirror and make sure my girls don't change shape or colour (!!), and that I should do it with hands on my hips and also above my head. He picks up a pamphlet from his tray with a set of simply-drawn diagrams for me to take home.

Then he gets me (get THIS!) to start massaging MY OWN BREAST in front of him! This just feels perverted.

His hand sits on mine to guide me around the terrain of my own boob. Like he's all of a sudden an expert on my own body! He slowly guides my hands around my boobs, one at a time, and he tells me I'm doing great, and that I can cover up and lie back down again now.

I could not get that gown back on quick enough!

So now I'm lying on my back again, looking yet again up at the square-patterned ceiling, and he tells me that he's just going to have a feel around my tummy (his words this time, not mine!). So now that blue sheet is covering me from just below my belly button down to almost my knees, and I'm holding the gown closed around my chest as he opens it up from the bottom, exposing my torso from just under my boobs down to the top of the blue sheet. A blue sheet which he then pulls down pretty much to the top of where my pubic hair would have been had I not removed it all a few days ago ... and him pulling it down made me very nervous all over again because I just didn't know how far he was going to go. He starts putting his now-gloved hands in different places around my stomach, starting under my rib cage. Pushing and prodding, and doing those little circle things with his fingers down my stomach. When he got to just above my pelvis bone, he pushed WAYYY in, like he was trying to tuck my tummy skin in underneath the bone! Again, he says that everything seems to be good, and now he's just going to have a quick check under the sheet. OMG!! I know it's coming, but OMG!! I start freaking out again.

He asks me to put my heels together, as close to my backside as I can, and let my knees fall apart to the sides. He then asks me to place my hands underneath my backside to lift it up off the bed a little bit, and gets me to start doing deep breathing out of my mouth. He says that he can't check what he needs to check if I'm all tense. I put one of my hands under my bum, but the gown won't stay closed if I take my other hand away, so I don't want to let go.

The doctor must sense my predicament, and offers to move the blue sheet up over my chest for me. I accept and then suddenly realise there's some coolish circulating air blowing gently past my vag as I shove my other hand under my bum, meeting the other one there.

Holy f***ken SHIT. I'm mortified. My little 18 year old vagina, last seen by another human over 12 years ago, in all it's glory is now in full view of the doctor.

Any chance this wasn't going to happen today is now gone. An overly confident, almost cockily defiant arrogant thought passes through my head: "Ellie, why not just throw away the sheet and have my whole naked body on display?!" ...but of course I don't want that. "Don't be stupid, Ellie", I counter-argue with myself, probably as a subliminal distraction from what's going on in real life right now.

Doctor reaches behind him and moves a lamp into place and he switches it on. How did I not notice that lamp there before?

"Ooh, that's warm", I notice. Like, a nice warmth. I actually like it. The warmth of the lamp is focussed on my inner thigh for a moment before he adjusts it. I'm not looking, but I know he's now got it shining right on my most private of private areas, which is now not very private at all. I can only imagine what this looks like from his point of view.

There's a few seconds of silence. He's not touching me or moving around. The lamp is most definitely still illuminating my vagina coz I can feel the warmth, but nothing else seems to be happening. Doctor breaks the silence: "Everything looks like it should be. Now I'm just going to have a quick feel."

And there they are again, those man hands are now gently touching my vaginal lips. Up and down both sides, a few times. Gently massaging the whole area from the start of my fold right around to my bumhole. Yep, even THAT orifice doesn't get missed today either...

When his fingers make their way back up to my vag, he starts moving them outwards from each other, opening me up a bit. Can this day get ANY more humiliating? 😢

"Okay, deep breathe for me, Ellie. I'm just going to insert a finger to have a feel around. See if anything's going on." So yep, my day DID just get more humiliating. I don't really have time to think about it. I start deep breathing as requested, and as I do, his finger goes where no finger has gone before. 'To infinity and beyond' (or something like that!). It's not comfortable, but it's not painful either, so I'm kinda relieved about that.

I can feel his finger MOVING AROUND INSIDE OF ME. OMG!! This feels SO WEIRD!!! I'm not sure what he thinks he's looking for. Lost pirate treasure maybe?! He feels like he's going pretty deep, like he's about to get sucked into some kind of fleshy vortex. Alas, no. He's still here and all his fingers seem to be intact. Oh wait, I can see all 10 of his fingers now as he starts removing his gloves. It's over!

He tells me that I've been really brave and that everything seems perfectly normal. I'm now allowed to hop up and get dressed again.

I've never put my clothes on so fast in my life. I don't even care if they're inside out or on backwards!

Once dressed, I emerge from behind the curtain and he smiles and thanks me for coming. I thank him in return, forcing a smile, but not really wanting to look him in the eye, and start to walk out of his office.

I DID IT!!!

I feel so EMPOWERED right now.

I'm still jittery, but it's all over! I walk back to the waiting room, find Dad still sitting there staring into the magazine. He looks up at me, tells me he's super proud of me for doing it, and offers to take me for lunch wherever I wanted.

We drive off in the car, and I go over the entire exam in my head and I can't believe that I did it. I can still feel my nipples a little more sensitive than usual after their attempted milking, and I can feel where the doctor's finger was up in my vagina, and as my nerves continue to settle, I get the thought that I hope the doctor hasn't lost a ring or a watch in there, because buddy, you're not going back in for another look until I'm 25!

"Crap, that's only 7 more years away", I realise, and I start to feel anxious in anticipation for it all over again.

The end.

Thankyou for reading! 😃