“Always remember that you are absolutely unique. Just like everyone else.” – Margaret Mead
Realizing You Are Different
Self-awareness is not a given in any individual, and, perhaps, is not expected in young children. Realizing how you fit into the context of your family, your neighborhood, your school community, and more can take a lot of time, and it is not always a smooth process. For some young people, the path into the rest of their community is reasonably easy and seamless. For others, the road is slightly more laden with obstacles.
I was not born knowing that I was “different.” I was not aware that there was anything particularly unusual about me. Indeed, my family served me nothing but love and glorious compliments. Relatives who came to visit would say, “Look how she’s growing! Put a book on that girl’s head!”
For me, the moment of realization was not necessarily dramatic. The pivotal moment for me was in a reflection I saw in floor-to-ceiling windows at my school. My classmates and I were marching in single file (of course) to an assembly of some sort, and we had to walk by these windows to get where we were going. I must have walked that path countless times. This time, however, something was different. I noticed that the line was fairly consistent in nature for the most part. Heads were lined up with each other at the same height, approximately. All of the heads were lined up, that is, except for mine. Where I stood there was a noticeable collapse. A decline. A downfall. I created a gap in this homogenous line. In that single moment, with no word to let anyone know anything, everything about my physical reality became weird and bothersome. Why was I not the same? Did the other kids notice that I was not the same height as them?
So far as I knew, this was something I had noticed that had escaped the attention of others. I was disabused of that notion when I was in Kindergarten. Everyone was out at recess. I don’t know what I was doing at the time. I was never particularly good at recess. A couple of older boys were swinging on the swingset, and all of a sudden they started yelling out, “Look, look, a midget!”
I remember very distinctly looking around excitedly at first. My mother is an avid birdwatcher, and “midget” sounded like a type of bird I had never heard of. Why else would someone be so excited? Then I realized they were laughing…and pointing at me. Suddenly I knew that this word “midget” was bad, or at least it was tied to bad for me.
I don’t recall how I learned what “midget” meant. I don’t even remember if I told my parents about this life-changing event. However, this solidified the narrative I had started in my own head. I was different, and the other kids knew I was different. Moreover, other kids thought that I looked funny, or that my being different was funny.
What you can do to help
Kids can be cruel as we all know. That does not mean that unkind words should go unnoticed. If you see children maltreating another child or even another adult (Yes, this happens), use the opportunity to teach them that their behavior is not appropriate. If they are not taught when they are children, they will simply grow into ignorant adults. If you have a good relationship with the child who is being bullied, make sure they are okay. Take them aside and show them support. Give them a chance to talk about what happened. Let them know it is okay to feel hurt. Help them move on.
Size Matters, Right?
I suppose for me this began a long period of body dysmorphia. I was both intrigued and horrified at how I could be so different and yet so similar. However, I also was made to feel my small size when I was in early elementary school. People would pick me up because they could. Sometimes it was well-meaning and sometimes not, but I knew right away I did not like that feeling of being moved by someone else and feeling trapped. I knew that other kids were not picked up this way. It made me feel something other than small. Now I felt that my height made me powerless.
I would love to say something grand like, “When I turned 18 I turned all of this on its head and never looked back.” The fact is, however, that when you are “different,” however that may be defined, it’s hard to forget. Society does not let you forget. My eyes did not let me forget. When my parents would want to show me pictures or video of me in school concerts I would refuse to look. That image of everyone looking pretty much the same on the risers, and then that big gap, was my enemy. Being “different” never seemed like a gift to me. It was something to be embarrassed about.
Navigating these feelings as a child or a teen is intensely difficult because you don’t have all of the knowledge and tools you need to even understand what it is you’re feeling or thinking. I had no idea what body dysmorphia was when I was 7. In fifth grade, when I would walk down the hall and people would hunch down and laugh as I passed by, I did not know all of the big feelings I was having. I just somehow knew that I was wrong. I was off. I was not an object of pity or admiration. I was a person to be mocked. The impact this has on one’s self-esteem is difficult to measure. For me, I decided when I was in eighth grade that I would make everyone remember me for something great. I wanted to make the top ten in my high school graduation class from that moment on. If I couldn’t make valedictorian that was okay. I just wanted my name called and to hear applause.
What You Can Do To Help
If you know a child who has dwarfism, there are a few things you can do if you are in a position to do so. First, try to find other kids like them. It took me well into my 40s to start finding people like me online, but the feeling was a deep sense of connection and an end of isolation. Little People of America has numerous resources, but I have never really felt at home there. Some childrens’ hospitals have specialists who treat achondroplasia, and they may be able to connect you with clubs or summer camps. Worst case scenario? Connect your child to motivational people online who have dwarfism. That is an option I did not have as a child.
Other children and teens may not have this “I’ll show them” response at hand. As we know all too well these days, victims of bullying sometimes translate that anger and hurt into violence against themselves or others. Some turn to drugs or alcohol early on. For children who do not have fully supportive and loving families, dealing with this kind of onslaught on your very nature would, of course, be that much more complex.
That is not to say that the “I’ll show them” tactic is solid gold. My desire to “prove them wrong” or “make them remember me with applause” became a consistent and nearly all-consuming goal. In situation after situation, my goal has been to be the best. I became convinced in that moment of goal setting that me as myself was not quite good enough. That seemed clear. When you are bullied or ignored and nothing in between, you easily translate that into a lack of your own worth instead of problems with the folks doing the mocking. I began at that young age to place my value in my actions and accomplishments.If I wasn’t standing out in a good way, I’d only stand out in a bad way.
I do not think I am alone in this regard. Many celebrities with dwarfism have tragically taken their own lives or have suffered with serious drug/alcohol addictions. I think it is because no matter how successful you are, you still know that you look different. You ARE different. You are treated differently. In this society, “different” iis not treasured. It is made to feel like a curse to those who stand out. People of “different” skin colors, or people who have significant physical issues, or people like me who are merely smaller than usual, cannot apply any fixes to make those differences go away. You have to make peace with the gap or it will eat you.