The days I met my monster

I have thought a great deal this last week about exactly when the scale became such a problem in my life.  I mean, this inconsequential contraption of metal and springs that in some cases (think Dr's office) hasn't evolved in ages, when did it take so much power over my self esteem.  When did I give it so much power?

I didn't have to think long... I knew the 2 events that forever changed my relationship with the scale and myself.

The first was 6th grade.

On a Sunday in late August in 1986 my family moved from my hometown and during the turmoil of the relocating, my mom and I went to temporarily live with my Aunt and her family in Pittsburgh.  I will say I am grateful for the time we had in my Aunt's home because it allowed me to develop a bond with her I continue to be thankful for.  We arrived on that Sunday.

The next day my mom walked me to the neighborhood school and registered me for class that started that day.  I wasn't on any registrations, no one knew I was coming.

Day one I spent telling the 3 6th grade teachers my name.  Spelling "McSorley" and explaining I just registered which is why they didn't have my name on any lists.  I ate lunch at the end of a table that had 3 other girls but they never acknowledged me.

I didn't know how to find my Aunt's house once school was over but knew which kid to follow to get me to the vicinity.

I was determined day 2 would be different.

I was right.

Day 2 started like any other day in elementary school and in 3rd period we were to go to gym class.  Gym teacher comes to the classroom to take us to the gym but instead he took a detour and we ended at the nurses office.  The nurse came in with her assistant to take all our weights.

I knew I weighed too much, but I hadn't really let it stop me at that point.  I wasn't ashamed.  It hadn't kept me from playing sports or wearing shorts at that point.  I had no idea what was coming.

The nurses office was a smallish room that was off a larger waiting room.  The class sat in the waiting room, and one by one the nurse called us into her office for our weights.

The nurse's assistant also sat in the waiting room, at her desk.

And as each kid entered the nurses small office the nurse would have them stand on the scale and then she would yell the weight to the assistant in the waiting room.  The assistant then wrote the numbers on her spreadsheet.  Do not ask me why the nurse could not write them on the spreadsheet on the desk in her office?  I guess she couldn't multi-task.

"Adams, Shelley - 87 lbs  NEXT!"

"Anderson, Brian - 98 lbs.  NEXT!"

one by one kids filed in out of the office while the class sat and listened to the numbers.

Unless you were "fat"

Because if you weighed too much the nurse came out of the office and whispered it to the assistant.  She couldn't bring herself to yell such shameful things.

And in my first real lesson of gender difference, I was taught only the girls should be embarrassed.

No matter what the boys number was - they were yelled.  Their mass was a source of pride.

Here is why I know this.

"McSorley, Anne"  out of the office to whisper

The number? 107.  I was 11 years old and 5 ft 1.  I fully admitted that was overweight.  That day I added shame to my issues of being new, alone and overweight.

The kids laughed that I was a whisper.  Same as they had laughed at a girl 4 people ahead of me who was also a whisper.  I heard what they said about her, and knew exactly what they were saying about me.

They didn't even know my name at this point, but they knew I was a whisper.  That was all that mattered.

The scale took its first victory.

I sat back down willing myself not to cry.  I vowed not to show any emotion.

A few people later.

"Reyonlds, David - A football player in the making 115.  NEXT!"

Girls shamed for less.  Boys celebrated.

I sat by myself that day at lunch.  I cried silent tears for the next many nights, the next many years, wishing I was different.

It was a long year.

7th grade brought another move to a new school.  My issues were fully ingrained and growing at that point.

Inside I was hurting and torn.  I compensated with a tough exterior, quick wit, and false air of confidence.

Those are traits that are all still with me to some extent.

Especially funny.  I am VERY funny.  :)

But 7th and 8th grade were actually enjoyable with a small class and people I connected with.

The next major victory for the scale came in 9th grade.

Catholic High School in Pittsburgh.  The school itself was 20 minutes from my parents apartment.  And it was attended by kids from all over the city.  Very few from my 8th grade class were going, so again I was walking into the unfamiliar without knowing many people.

Sitting in class my first week of school.  The teacher is taking attendance.  In an effort to get to know the students he has his roster and is walking up and down the rows just asking questions to the students as he reads their names.  "Where are you from?"  Is so and so your older brother?"  "Are you related to...?"

He gets to me.

"McSorley, Anne.  McSorley?  Like the restaurant?"

"Yes, it is my Uncles"

"Great place and Great name!"

"Thanks"

"Any nicknames?  Anyone call you Annie Mac or Big Mac"

"No, just Anne"

Behind me a few seats and over in the next row I hear it.  A kid with a pseudo-mullet and a gold chain says just loud enough for me to hear it "They SHOULD call her Big Mac, she's definitely eaten enough of them!!"

If the teacher heard he ignored.

The kids around him chuckled.  He was an athlete, he was cute by all standards that were important, he was popular, so it was all okay to laugh.

I was no one.

I was not an athlete.  I lived 20 minutes away and my parents didn't have a car.  I had no way to get to practice even though I would have loved to continue with soccer.  I was overweight and wearing clothes that were ill fitting and hand me downs.  I couldn't compete against his taunts, so I shut down.

Inside I was right back to the nurses office in 6th grade.  The scale won again.

But this monster would follow me from class to class for the next 4 years.  He never outwardly made another comment and he probably never thought about it again.  But I did.

I thought about it every time I saw him in classes for 4 years.  He was in a lot of my classes.  I cringed if he was seated near me.  Praying he would just ignore me.  I spent 4 years trying to just stay out of his way.

I only survived High School with the help of some awesome friends who were as close to me as family.  I am thankful many of these relationships continue to bless my life (and that Facebook has helped me rekindle the friendship with others I had lost during the years)

To this day when I hear his name it is the first thing I think of.

So this week I have thought about those 2 events.  Wondering how I can rewrite the mental scripts each event wrote in my life all those years ago?

I know it will take time but as I focus on things about me worth celebrating, I will change that script moving forward.

And I will spend my energy challenging systems that "shame" kids who are different.  I will fight for people of all sizes, abilities, and backgrounds to be given opportunities.  I will stand up for those who are told they are not enough, they are too much, they aren't worthy of life, they have no future.

I will raise kids who understand the power of words and teasing.  Who know one of our biggest responsibilities as humans is to stand up for those being teased and mocked.

I will raise kids who are comfortable in their own skin and not afraid to fight bullies.

And maybe, just maybe, at our next High School Reunion I will find this guy and find the courage to walk up and say hello.

Then I will pull a Big Mac out of my purse and smash it in his face.

Okay, skip that last sentence.  I will just enjoy the IDEA of that.  I won't really DO it.

Remember, funny.

I will take a picture of my beautiful family and let that one specific classmate know just how much my life has been blessed.  Let him know, without calling him out or reminding him of that one day in class all those years ago when he made me the punchline of his "jokes" I have achieved quite a bit.

It will be the best way to edit that script from long ago.