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.
.
You never know when your words will be needed for good.
.
You never know when your words will be needed for good.
