Showing posts with label thumb sucker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thumb sucker. Show all posts

September 16, 2025

A Girl from Pluto Ep. 10

         

This series will contain posts styled as a memoir with memories that I feel like sharing. I first wrote these articles in 2017 when I was suffering from burnout. I may post one or two a month. I hope you enjoy these intimate glimpses into the life of...



Episode 10

Sucker


As a child, I obviously needed a lot of comfort, because on top of having an imaginary friend and a security blanket, I also sucked my thumb. But I mostly sucked my thumb at night, as a way to soothe me to sleep. In school, I hid the fact that I sucked my thumb. Even when a hard patch formed on my thumb’s knuckle with two little indents, I never said it was because I sucked my thumb. I knew that sucking your thumb as a child older than five wasn’t normal. None of my friends did it. Or if they did, they never owned up to it, just like I didn’t. 

Spending the night at my best friend’s house was tough because I knew I couldn’t suck my thumb there. At night, I’d curl my fingers around my thumb, in the center of my fist and would shove my hand under my pillow so I wouldn’t be tempted. It would take me hours to fall asleep. 

Once, when my best friend spent the night at my house, she caught me sucking my thumb. Smarty pants little me played it off, though. I woke up to the feel of my best friend’s hand stroking mine, and I realized my thumb was in my mouth, even though I didn’t do it intentionally. I kept my eyes closed and muttered, “Stop. I’m thirsty.” Then I turned over and put my hand under my pillow. I stayed like that for a few minutes before “waking up.” 

She mentioned that I had my thumb in my mouth, and I played it off like, “Really? That’s weird. I was having a dream that I was drinking soda cuz I was like dying of thirst.” She didn’t question me, and I made sure she never caught me with my thumb in my mouth again.

I sucked my thumb at night all the way through 6th grade. During the summer before 7th grade, I knew I had to “grow up.” For the next two months, I trained myself not to suck my thumb. It was extremely hard at first, but I did it. Before school started, I no longer sucked my thumb. Phew. Just in time for the crazy and judgmental years of middle school. Yay!

You’re probably wondering about my teeth, aren’t you? Do I have buckteeth? Are they extremely spaced out? If not, did I have to suffer through years of braces? 

Nope.

Actually, when I was in first grade, my teeth were badly spaced apart. I remember seeing my school picture and thinking, that’s what my teeth look like? Oh my gosh! From that moment on, I only smiled with my mouth closed. I was embarrassed with my teeth, not even realizing that they eventually corrected themselves.

In 6th grade my PE teacher asked me if I ever had braces. I told her no, which was the truth, but because of my insecurity, her question humiliated me. She quickly explained, probably after seeing my pink face, that she loves my smile. She thought I must’ve had braces because my teeth were perfect, and I had a beautiful smile.

Her words struck me. Really? How could it be? All I could imagine was my 1st grade school picture and my smile. Ugh. Those teeth!

My best friend was there and confirmed what our favorite PE teacher told me. And yet, it took me a long time to actually believe these words. Still in all of my school pictures I smiled with my mouth closed, even when other people complimented my smile. 

Insecurities can sure damage us, can’t thing? Because of one school picture, I developed a dislike for my teeth and couldn’t even see that they weren’t hideous anymore. Insecurities can do this to us. They blind us. If someone compliments you, open your ears and open your eyes. Look in the mirror and repeat their compliment. 

See it. 

Believe it. 

Funny enough, when I was in 10th grade, there was this boy who openly sucked his thumb everywhere, even in class. No one made fun of him, either. He was pretty popular, though, so maybe that’s why? Or could it be because he was a boy and had a great sense of humor? And was even cute, with a baby face? Who knows. But I sure never felt that I would be accepted as a thumb sucker, not like this boy was. Heck, I was bullied for my shoes and eyebrows, so I definitely would’ve been bullied if my classmates had known my secret. 

He chose to be open, and I chose to hide it. We had our reasons and influences that told him it was okay and told me it wouldn’t be a good idea. 

The point is, sucking your thumb is a reflex, a comfort. He could’ve needed that comfort longer than me, and more often. 

Thumb suckers of the past…I am one of you.

Thumb suckers of the present…I see you.

Thumb suckers of the future…I am with you.