Thursday, October 15, 2015

To the girls I overheard making fun of me

Dear Ladies,

I understand the need to gossip, the pleasure of chatting with friends, and even people watching. I get it, I do, but I also know that words hurt. When I heard you around the corner commenting on my hair, it didn’t bother me. My hair is edgy and different. It’s also for me, a reflection of my personality and artistic side. I know that not everyone will like my hair, and that is fine. It didn’t bother me when you commented on my hair, but it did sting when you mentioned my weight.

When you said that I could lose a few pounds and that these pants don’t do me any favors, I was hurt. I looked down at myself and was flooded with every memory of insecurity. For years, like most women, I have had confidence issues and shamed myself for not looking like an airbrushed model. As a young dancer, I quietly compared my curving figure to those around me. Those girls that got all the good parts, those girls that were stick straight with shiny teeth and perfect hair. When you said that I could lose a few pounds I lapsed for a moment. I wanted to peek around the corner  and see some ugliness, but I couldn’t. The three of you were physical perfection. Long toned legs, synched waists, and thick blonde ponytails.  I decided to let you have the comment. To not let your critique of my curved hips get to me.  You are med students after all. It wouldn’t hurt for me to hit the gym. Your words would be motivation. They would, I promised myself that.

It was when I grabbed a drink of water from the fountain to gather myself and again tried to make my way down the hallway that three of you broke my heart. When you decided to open dialog on my stockings, it felt like I was being punched in the face. You giggled over the premise that I thought I was starting some sort of fashion trend. The truth is far from that. I hate these stockings. I despise them with every fiber of my being, but they are medical, necessary. Countless times I have had self-esteem issues having to wear these hideous things, but what is under them is worse. Legs that are purple, ugly, swollen. Part of my own body that has betrayed me. Do the three of you know what that is like? What it feels like to have to live everyday hating a part of your body—a part of your body that you can’t change? To lay down at night in pain because your own body has turned its back on you? I’m guessing you don’t. For the sake of your future patients, I hope you do. I hope you learn to have compassion for others, to not judge based on appearance.

I do not believe that the three of you are bad people. You are pursuing careers that will lead to you potentially saving lives, after all. The three of you chose careers that require you to do good. You are not bad people, but for a moment today you were ugly.


In this world, in this lifetime, we have so much to do and so little time. I guarantee that if you would spend that time spreading kindness instead of critiquing with negativity, you will be infinitely more satisfied. I do not blame you for gossiping about me today. I’m not cursing you for making my heart hurt. Instead, I’m wish the three of you success, happiness, and the ability to show compassion for others. 
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You never know when your words will be needed for good.