It was in the 5th grade. I was tall for my age, I had lots of freckles and dull straight hair. I wasn't slight nor dainty, but strong and athletic. Instead of skinny, I was fit. I appreciated my athletic abilities, but never felt comfortable in my skin. I wanted a slimmer, bonier, and shorter version of myself.
I was a year older in than all of the other kids in my class. I always make a joke about it and say I failed a year at pre-primary, but that is the truth. I wasn't ready to go to school when all of my friends in pre-primary went to "big school". Emotionally I wasn't ready. So my mom kept me back a year.
I was never picked for games or activities at recess. I was never picked by the teacher to be the class captain. I was never at the back of the class because I was one of the clever kids. I wasn't even picked to be a backstage hand for the school musical.
I guess I was just one of those unlikable kids. Not ugly and stupid enough to be put in a special school, but not pretty and clever enough to be accepted by my classmates and teacher.
I quickly learned how to keep myself busy with reading books during times where I was ignored and left out by the other kids in my class.
I wasn't invited to birthday parties or play dates.
I had to beg strangers to attend my birthday parties. I had two birthday parties growing up, the only kids who pitched for my 10th birthday party were people from church who I didn't even know.
I was a good netball player, and I mean this. I was good, but I got picked for the c-team three years in a row because my mom and dad didn't sponsor t-shirts, or sandwiches or whatever you need to do to be picked for the A-team. I stopped playing netball after a while, or I just stopped caring about being picked for any team because I felt useless, not worthy to be selected for anything.
We were doing a class activity one morning, we had to run and catch a ball and throw it to someone else. As I threw the ball I heard:
“I guess she threw all her fat into that one!”
The words came from one of the slimmer, bonier, non-athletic girls. The kind I longed to look like.
The words hurt deeply.
You know when it feels as though your heart drops into your stomach? I still remember it today.
Words lasting merely two seconds served as a loaded weapon for the enemy’s attack on a young girl’s fragile and already broken identity.
At that moment I allowed words to define me because I didn’t know how much value God has placed over my life.
When I looked at myself, I saw the reflection of those words used against me. And as the years moved forward, I looked into that mirror view. A view from the wrong reflection. A view reflecting the words and actions of others. Of the acquaintances, friends, and family. Of the culture and the media. Of expectations and traditions.
In high school, I still remembered those words as if they were spoken the day before. I practised for hours every day to be better, to be skinnier, to be prettier.
Still, I wasn't picked for the A-team. Still, I had no friends.
I clearly remember those days in boarding school when all the girls except me would get together in a specific room to practice for a dance or just chill together. I stood at the door one day and I was told:
"You aren't one of the popular kids, so go away. Only popular girls are allowed in here"
and the door was shut in my face. Imagine at 13 or 14, hearing those words. It damages you forever.
After graduating from high school, I would still find reasons not to love myself or my body. I listened to other people's opinions about what a "lady" is and what I should do to be more of this and more of that.
Then something just happened one day.
I looked in the mirror and saw a princess. A beautiful girl with so many dreams. I heard a little voice at the back of my head:
"do you know how special you are?"
I am 31 this year and I am still not one of the "cool" moms. I don't wear my gym clothes to drop my child off at school in the preferred cool moms club vehicle.
I am still not at the top of the guest list for parties and functions.
And I am happy with that. A few years ago it would have bothered me so much that I would hate my life, but now, today as I am typing this. I am happy to be home with my family and the occasional cup of coffee with a friend.
I decided to make a change in my life. I cut people out of my life that would only be there for the good times, but not for the bad times.
I lost many many friends, which I realized, later on, weren't friends.
It took me a very long time to "REALLY" love myself. To realize my worth.
What about you? How do you see yourself? In which mirror are you looking?
In the mirrors of the trauma, abuse, or neglect that dug ugly claws into your life? Or maybe in the ridicule, teasing, or bullying you experienced as a child? Or possibly, it was in the simple words of condemnation you received when you made a mistake?
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