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When I was a child, I used to believe that I was going to be
famous. I was in love with Donny Osmond and watched Sonny and Cher
every week. I can remember singing "Don’t go Breakin’ my
Heart" by Elton John and Kiki Dee when I was five years old
from start to finish. My mother was amazed at how I knew all the
words by heart. I knew I would be a singer and told everyone that I
was going to be a singer when I grew up.
One day, I was in the car with an adult relative and was asked
the question of what I was going to be when I grew up, I replied,
"A singer." What followed next, changed my attitude about
myself into my adult life.
My relative replied, "A singer, well you better lose some
weight if you want to be a singer. Singers are skinny." I was
crushed. So young and impressionable, I believed that this was true.
I tried thinking of all the singers I could and none of the ones I
could think of were overweight. I remember thinking of Captain and
Tenille, Marie Osmond, and Cher. Even the Magic Garden women were
skinny. (I didn’t know who Aretha Franklin was at the time or I
would have probably challenged the response.)
When I was 8 years old, I was in ballet class and had a mean old
ballet teacher who probably loved ballet but obviously didn’t like
kids, especially chubby kids. One day while warming up, we were
doing splits, (and to this day, I can drop down and do a straight
split at any moment.) This particular day, we were doing Russian
splits and I couldn’t get my legs to be perfectly straight. She
got frustrated with me and called me a "Fat tub o’
Lard." I told my mom and was promptly pulled out of ballet
class.
In addition to this feeling of being physically inadequate, I
inherited a weak bladder from my mother. Both she and I had problems
into early adolescence, (we outgrew it) of not being able to hold
any liquid in our bladders. Once I had to go to the bathroom, I had
to go immediately. If I didn’t get to a bathroom within seconds, I
would have an accident. There was no such thing as "holding
it" for me and consequently, I would have many accidents;
sometimes, two in one day. Because of this, I was ridiculed by my
peers and too often, humiliated by adults who thought that this
method of humiliation would make me stop having this problem. This
was something I could not control and felt ashamed and helpless
everytime it happened. I was beating myself up enough, I didn’t
need the help of unsympathetic adults to reinforce what a
"baby" I was.
When I was 8, my parents got divorced. They were each going
through their own pains at the time and didn’t realize how that
was affecting their children. My mother who had custody at the time,
I think had her first taste of freedom in her life and went a little
overboard while leaving my brother, sister and myself with an aunt.
She wouldn’t come to us after work, and this was a period of
feeling very unloved and unimportant to me.
In my child mind, I couldn’t see that she was working overtime
and doing the best she could with her situation. On the weekends, my
father would take us, but he was always working and we didn’t
really get to spend any quality time with him either. This made the
little girl in me feel very unloved and unimportant. I was not
mature enough to recognize that everyone involved was coping the
best way they could with the situation at hand.
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