The Elephant Without a Trunk

I was born big – a bouncing baby of 9lbs… and continued to stay that way. When I was 10, I was 110lbs and 5ft tall. This is an exception to a south-asian girl. Simply put it - a no! no!!. My size, dark complexion and height were always a major topic at family discussions. Obviously people had a lot of fun at my expense. Feel a bit of resentment – sure! To add spice to this my two sisters and brother spread the rumour that I consumed half a loaf of bread and six eggs for breakfast. I have no clue where this came from. To this day, I have never eaten six eggs at one single meal or even in one day. I was called the “big bird” and “blackie” by the neighborhood kids and sometimes, even their parents called me that. I was a quiet, polite child and when people made fun at me if I could manage I would still smile – that’s because I could not cry. Crying wasn’t appreciated in my family – it was seen as a sign of weakness. O.K. so who wants to be labeled as weak?

One day, when I was in fifth grade during an art class I noticed the kids around looking at me and giggling. I also saw a piece of drawing paper being passed around. I was curious and waited impatiently for my turn. It never reached me. I got up and grabbed it – that day my life fell apart – There was a picture of a huge elephant - drawn by my best friend – it had my name on it. As usual I did not say anything – I cried in silence. Of course, my friendship ended with my friend. But this day my perception of my self changed. My self-esteem dropped, I started to live in a self-created shell. I felt ridiculed and embarrassed for the next 20 years of my life. I always saw my self as the elephant – without the trunk. It was painful. It was so bad sometimes, I would even hear the trumpeting of an elephant in my mind.

It wasn’t until I was about 30 I was able to walk out of this. It wasn’t easy – it did not happen in a flash… But I finally made it. It so happens that elephant is my favorite animal – actually it has always been but I just did not want to admit to the outside world – in case they would say, “ oh, you just look like one”. Today, I feel free and can laugh about it but when I was 10 that wasn’t easy. I am sure some of you can relate to my bitter experience. May be you weren’t called an elephant but something else.

When we are young we may not know any better. Even if we did – we are scared of voicing it. What others say about us makes who we are. It shouldn’t be, but that is how it works when we are young. In my profession as a counsellor, I have met many successful people, well in to their thirties, forties and fifties still holding on to negative remarks that were said to them when they were kids. They are ridiculed and embarrassed and hurt. Their pain is real, so as the anger. Sometimes, the damage it creates is lifelong. It takes away ones happiness and zest for life. Many people suffer quietly and they are too embarrassed to talk about it.

Lets be careful with what we say and how we choose to have fun. If we are having fun at the expense of others then we cannot really call our selves as "having a great sense of humour". Lets also be careful around our own children. After all, most parents would say they want the best for their children. What good does it make to produce a so-called successful 30 year-old, a highly educated professional with a double degree – if he or she is still frothing with anger or embarrassment because of an insensitive remake we made when they were young. Would you call that success?