*Note- I wrote this February of 2015. I was going through a particularly shitty time, and couldn't sleep one night. As a kind of catharsis, I started writing down all the crap in my head.
Sharing this now is scary. It's difficult because it's making public a very personal part of me that maybe only two others in the entire world know about. But I feel the need to share because 1) although it's not nearly as bad as it once was, I still deal with this issue, and 2) I know there are plenty of people who have had similar experiences. If I can help even one person- perhaps maybe save someone decades of agony and self-loathing, then it is absolutely what I need to do. So read on, share... and be please be kind.
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I remember the day vividly. I was in 5th grade, 10 or 11 years old, sitting at my desk next to a boy we'll just call "G". Out of the blue, he leans over to me and says, "I don't think you should play flute in the band. I think you should play the tuba. Flutes are skinny, you're shaped like a tuba."
It felt like my chest was caving in and my soul was being ripped apart. My ears started ringing. My breath was sucked out of me. I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe. I wish I could remember if I said something to him, but if I did, I know it wasn't impressive. I was in too much shock to come up with anything witty or biting.
Some things inside of me broke that day; my innocence was shattered, my self-esteem was gone, and my life would never be the same again. That day is the first time I really remember thinking that there was a problem with the way I looked. This problem, this being FAT, was considered a fundamental flaw to my whole self. That thought has haunted me every day of my life since.
Some things inside of me broke that day; my innocence was shattered, my self-esteem was gone, and my life would never be the same again. That day is the first time I really remember thinking that there was a problem with the way I looked. This problem, this being FAT, was considered a fundamental flaw to my whole self. That thought has haunted me every day of my life since.
As I reread that last paragraph, it sounds very melodramatic. Those that know me well, know that I am prone to hyperbole every now and then. But this isn't an exaggeration, and it's not something to be dismissed. I know this because it's now 27 years later and as I recall that day, the breath still gets sucked out of me and there are tears streaming down my face. This is serious. This is not okay, and it needs to be dealt with.
I have let a remark some pre-pubescent boy made almost 3 decades ago have tremendous and crippling power over me. This is a power that he a) doesn't deserve and b) doesn't even know he has! I think G may have gone to my middle school for a year or two, but I've not seen him in at least 25 years. He's probably a great guy now with a lovely family and life built for himself (just like I have). He almost certainly doesn't remember this little tête-à-tête the way I do (he probably doesn't remember it at all!), and it's even possible that he may have actually liked me and just did not know how to show it. We were 10 years old- ie- we were DUMB LITTLE KIDS. I am now 37 years old. It is completely absurd that I have let it affect me this much.
AND IT STOPS NOW.
I have been to counselors. They helped a bit. I take meds for depression- they help too. But through all these years the missing component to stopping that horrible inner monologue, the key to bringing peace to myself and giving myself permission to love me, just as I am, is that my soul hasn't been given the opportunity to heal. It sustained a trauma all those years ago, and then I've been adding daily (if not hourly) insults to that injury for the last 27 years. Yeah, let that sink in..... Imagine breaking your arm, and you don't put a cast on it. Then, every day, someone comes by and hits that same arm. The bone may eventually mend itself, but it's not going to heal correctly. And through it all, you're going to experience daily doses of excruciating pain.
Do I blame all my problems on this one incident from my past? No- of course not. A lot of things, both good and bad, have happened in my life to make me the person I am today. For the most part, I like that person, so I am thankful for the path that has led me here. But the one constant issue I've had is poor self-esteem when it comes to my looks and weight. So, if I'm going to start taking care of the part of my soul that is still traumatized, then I've got follow my path backwards to that 5th grade classroom.
To G, wherever he is, and whatever he is doing in life- I will write here what I should have told him back then, but didn't have the experience/wit/wisdom/nerve/
1)I am a damn fine flute player and probably the most talented musician in the school. You're just jealous.
2) It wouldn't do for me to take up tuba because it would ruin my embouchure for flute.
3)Tubas are gross- there's lots of spit that collects in the bottom and you have to blow it out the valves. Tuba spit STINKS, and it's just plain unsanitary and undignified.** Flutes are much more ladylike.
4) Speaking of valves- go ahead and blow this out yours.
5) I like you too.
6) I forgive you.
And with all of that said, I am letting go of the negative energy this memory creates. Let this be one of those life experiences I learn from, but that can't hurt me anymore.
And so it is.
And so it is.
** my apologies to all the tuba players of the world. You are an integral part of any band or orchestra and we would be lost without you...But c'mon- the spit thing (all brass players do it!) IS gross. I can assure you any woodwind player who has slipped in a puddle of spit on the band room floor holds a bit of a grudge. XOXO
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