Sunday, 20 October 2013

Born This Way

So, I am a pretty quiet and seemingly laid-back person. Quite frankly, my quietness makes it difficult for me to make friends. I have always been quiet- I rack it up to growing up from utero on with a loud mouth fraternal twin sister.

*All our baby pictures, she has her mouth open and mine is shut lol*
I grew up not only as the 'follower twin', but also as the middle child (I also have a younger sister, about 1.5 years younger). So I was quiet and shy, but a quirky li'l' thing

*they saw me rollin'...*

*gimme somma that Kool-Aid smile!*

We started Kindergarten in different classrooms. I grew up in a pretty small town, and when high school graduation rolled around, almost everyone remembered me in Kindergarten crying and crying because I was all alone! I didn't have a voice- my sister was my voice! I was scared and on my own.

*frowny-est Kindergarten picture EVAAAR*

As school continued, I continued to be the shy, quiet one. And, thanks to puberty, the fat chic with bad skin and glasses. So there I was; quiet, overweight, and hiding a funny quirky side

I joined Band in 4th grade, and stuck with it all through school. It was depressing to me, since no one in my small group of friends were in it. But it was something I loved to do. It was lonely, but some times, playing trombone was all I had.

So I went to college. Years of being called 'Sea Cow', 'Homo-Stacey-Is' (thank you, middle school bio), 'Pug Nose', and I'm sure various other things they thought too rude to say to my face [cuz, y'know, the other names are so nice and complimentary...] I went for Music Education. I went, thinking I'd be surrounded by like-minded kids, ready to take on the future!

Well, I found out college was worse than high school. Not only was I getting picked on during the day, but also during the afternoon, evening, and night. Weekends were a treat, because it was usually by drunk groups of guys barking at me and making comments on my weight. I was scared to walk back to my dorm at night- so I'd either stay as long as possible at a friend's dorm, or practice in the Cultural Arts center until I just had to go back to go to bed. I worked weekends, never partied, and was still the quiet fat chic. I remember dreaming on more than one occasion I would get in an accident or something, and all these people would pop out of the woodwork to support my recovery and end up being great friends with me forever [lol it's ok to chuckle at this--I look back now and it sounds ridiculous!]

My Mom was not well. We knew her sister had Huntington's Disease, but Mom had told us she'd be tested for it and it was negative. She was changing-- various dementia type symptoms popping up, motor skills decreasing... my twin sister called me every week telling me I needed to quit school to come home and help her. I had one year left- so close to my degree, I couldn't go home when I was so close to accomplishing something great with myself!

The stress from the phone calls from my sister and trying to help my family financially (my mom just stopped going to work one explanation) got to me- I forgot to hand in my financial aid paperwork on time. Midterms of my 8th semester o f college, I was forced to quit due to lack of money.

I moved home to help my sister, who promptly took advantage of me being there and was never home. I had no car, no money. When our younger sister came home from JobCorps a year later, I left and moved in with friends from NY. Things moved quick-- next thing I know I'm married and have 2 kids. Sold my trombone to help pay rent. Still picked on by people who worked with me in my dead end jobs.

Reality hit when doctors finally decided to test my Mom for Huntington's Disease. The test came back positive. As the child of someone with HD, you have a 50% chance of inheriting it.

So, now, here I am. turning 30 this year. I'm still quiet and fat. But now I have a family, and finally a job that I can move up in.

But, my immature daydream of having an accident and friends coming out of the woodworks? The "accident" part just might come true- Huntington's Disease is horrible. As I watch my mom go through and progress in this horrible disease, I worry about my future, about the future of my own little family.

Yesterday, I stopped at the grocery store after work for milk. Two college - aged guys were behind me in line. The magazine rack had one of those gossip papers, with unflattering pictures of famous women in bathing suits looking a little chunky. The guys laughed as one of them took the stack and turned them around so he wouldn't have to see it. I felt some rage inside-- guys like that.They are the reason I was so afraid to try ad find happiness, to search for a relationship with anyone when I was in school (or after, for that matter--I met my husband on livejournal lol)

Fat gals deserve to be happy just as much as those who are not over weight! We deserve the right to search for happiness, to have fun and not be scared of what's out there.

I may be the over weight, quirky, quiet wife, mother, and potentially a horrible, brain deteriorating disease, but I should never be afraid to be myself. Because, baby, I was born this way.

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