When I was seven years old, my grandmother told me, "You have such thick thighs."
Looking back now I realize that I had muscular thighs, not "thick" thighs.
If she had said "muscular," maybe I wouldn't have spent the next eight years battling anorexia, and the rest of my life recovering.
When I was about 11, my friend and I were playing outside on a hot Florida summer day. After a while, we decided to go to her house to cool off in the air conditioning for a bit.
I had let her borrow a pair of my shorts that day, and when we came inside, her dad threw a fit about how short they were. He proceeded to sing, "Come and get it, I'm giving it away!" in a jaunty tune at her until she changed.
To this day, 16 years later, I can still hear his ugly/jolly voice singing that song every time I put on a pair of shorts.
Growing up, I was picked on constantly, but most of the kids who bullied me eventually stopped by middle/high school. Except for one girl in particular. She was the band director's stepdaughter, basically making it impossible for me to do anything about it.
I'll never forget the day when we got our pictures taken in our marching band uniforms. I had just gotten my hair cut and highlighted the day before, and thought I looked really pretty.
She walked up to me and said, "Oh, your hair doesn't look THAT bad today."
I felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach.
In fourth grade, I attended Carnival Day at school. I tried to dunk one of the teachers in the dunk tank, but I couldn't quite hit the target. When my turn was over, I walked away, and a man came up to me and introduced himself as a local little league coach. He asked me, "Do you know you have a heck of an arm there? Do you play for any team?" I told him no, and he strongly encouraged me to come to tryouts. I told my mom when I got home, but nothing ever came of it.
Looking back, I'm sure I would have loved playing ball, but it was that compliment that stuck with me. My home was a very angry place to grow up. I never got compliments or encouragement really of any kind. We were either invisible, or in trouble and getting screamed at. I vividly remember just about every compliment I ever received as a child because of the feeling of empowerment it gave me. Those compliments became my identity.
You never know what a person has to deal with in their life. Just be nice, always. Your kind words might be what sticks with someone else.
Growing up, people told me that I was too weird to ever find a guy who would marry me. I was told that I'd have to find a guy who could "tolerate" me, and that I would have to be the one to propose.
My art teacher in high school told me that the man I'd wind up marrying would probably be a serial killer.
When I was 9, I was in a Dollar Tree with my mother. She left me alone in the makeup section to browse. Behind me there was a couple in their late 20s. I was minding my own business, when out of nowhere my mother pulled me away and said, "That man was staring at your ass."
This was the very first time that anything like this had ever happened to me, and I thought it was gross.
However, what got me more upset was when my mom said, "You shouldn't wear shorts that short anymore."
Victim blaming much, mom? My skin exposure shouldn't be an excuse for anyone to ogle at me.
To this day, I am sometimes still ashamed to show too much skin, because no matter what I chose to do with my body, I remember that someone will see it as an invite to do what they please. Whenever I wear shorts, those words ring in my head.
I will never slut shame my future daughter, and even more importantly, my son will learn how to act politely and respectfully to women.
One time in third grade, a girl spat gum on me at recess and said, "No boy will ever like you because you look like a fat cat!"
This has never left me, and I have never liked cats since.
When I was 10 or 11, my class split up into groups and competed to see which group could put a puzzle together the fastest. I essentially finished our group's puzzle on my own, and the boy I was working with said, "You're really smart for an ugly girl!"
It took me a long time to get over this.
I attended a small Christian elementary school with only eleven students in my class. Out of six girls, there were two Melanies. I was the tall, chubby Melanie. The other Melanie was like a golden, perfect swan.
In 5th grade, we all participated in a track and field event, and everyone started rooting for "Pretty Melanie."
I spent the next 15 years battling eating disorders.
When I was only 7 years old, in second grade, I was teased about my weight and my choices in clothes. No girls wanted to be my friend and guys called me ugly all the time.
What stuck with me was that one day, a boy who I had a crush on told me the only way I would loss my virginity is if I got raped.
I wonder how he would feel knowing that that is how it happened. That I lost my virginity against my will.
Has anyone ever made a fleeting comment about you that immediately became tattooed onto the front of your brain for all of eternity, impacting your self-perception and self-worth? Whether it was an offhand comment made by someone you love and respect or a fleeting declaration by someone you barely know, we share the moments that stick.
