No Pity Party for Me

Now that I have given some background into myself here is the reason I decided to write down my experiences.  I am in the minority.  I am different looking and because of that I am open to attack.  Within any group of people.  There isn't a country called "Fatadonia" where I can go to blend in, although the South is pretty darn close.  I am an Outcast. 

The thing is...I'm fine.  My life is awful. Terrible!  I didn't want it to be like this.  I have nothing. I plan to go more in depth about the struggles and the coping in later writings.  I am shocked when people say I am ugly. Not for the rudeness, but because I do not think that statement is true.  My body is not a measure of who I am and to be so bluntly judged surprises me.

The childhood taunt that cut me to the bone out of all of them were the two boys standing around as I rushed to class.  One boy would shout as I walked past,  "Hey, My friend here likes you!" The other boy would be completely mortified by the idea of liking me.  His face would go red with a blush and he would yammer his denials back "No! I don't like you!" and then he would proceed to beat up his suppose friend.  I couldn't stand the thought of a person being ashamed to like me.  That taut was said to me everyday and everyday the tears would prick my eyes.

What really made me angry was that I knew they were wrong.  I believed I was witty and intelligent.  That I could get lost in the moment and I had real loyalty.  My body didn't hold me back.  I hated sports.  I found it boring, but I was involved in dance for quite a while and was able to do the splits and touch my toes.  I only felt fat when other people pointed it out.  I felt fat when I couldn't find any decent clothing that fit and I felt fat when I looked at a pair of jeans.  The jeans that fit me were huge and the waistband became a physical reminder of how much fabric it took to get around me.  So I learned to avoid those triggers.
No more shopping.  I still hate it today, but that is because I am too sick.  No more jeans.  Mostly pants with elastic.
No more people.

That one was a lot harder,  People don't like it when you avoid people.  My Mother mainly, but I learned to protect myself.  My main technique is to be invisible.  I complained for a while that I felt like the incredible invisible woman when I entered a room, but over time I have realized that my mannerism cause that to happen.  I can't break them even when I try they have become so ingrained in me.  When I enter a classroom I have a spilt second to judge who is hostile towards me, who is indifferent and who would be open to my presence.  It is pretty clear with children, after a few "you can't sit here!"  yelled at you.  The body language and facial expressions become a clue into their behavior.  Fortunately for me there is always another outcast being shunned and I was usually able to find them in the room.  This talent of reading people was and is a lifesaver.  It only grew strong as I got older and with my introduction into more spiritual matters I was able to tap into that talent to help me on my mission and beyond.

The other thing I notice works in my favor is remaining anonymous.  I love doing certain things, hate doing others.  I love directing plays, planning parties and making art.  If I have someone else be the figure head, and I do the work behind the scenes.  I have huge amounts of success, but if people know it is me in charge the support fizzles.  That is the great thing about my mother.  She says yes, everyone goes to her first, but I'm the one who makes the decisions.  The accolades go to somebody else and that used to make me mad, but the few people who saw through my rouse, who knew it was really my talents they were praising became my biggest advocates.

 The best example I can think of it the Theatre Costuming.  I said no when I was asked to help with a Church Production.  The leaders put an impossible budget on it and I wanted it to be good, not a bunch of broomstick skirts.  Oh, that's another thing with the Peck's.  You ask us to do something and we will do the very best possible no matter the amount of money or the amount of time. I am not afraid to say no, so they went to my Mother and she said yes.  I was very upset.  I had been in Theatre production and I knew the amount of professionalism required to have a successful show.  I felt like they were twisting arms instead of getting the support needed, but my mother needed my help. She put forth the money.  I helped her get the fabric.  Then let her take it from there.  She is a great sewer and didn't have problems making the costumes, but costuming is an art form that has many layers involved, including color stories.  I couldn't bear her work to look bad, so I became my pushy self and I had to fix it the best I could.  The next thing I knew I was working every weekend organizing the costumes and taking  care of the actors, just what I had tried to avoid, but I have to admit that because Mom said yes a local theater production saw what we could do and hired us on the spot for their next production.  I ended up working as a costumer  for 4 years.

I have learned to hate people in groups.  We have stereotypes for a reason.  Stereotypes help us to decided if we want that person's influence in our lives but I believe that we become stunted when we keep the individual in that preconceived first pigeon hole.  I became aware that my first impression became my only impression.  I don't like parties that are just a bunch of people standing around.  I find that if I am apart of a group that is together for a purpose I have time to show myself in a favorable light.  I think of groups of people as a mob and I wait with baited breath for someone to point at me and yell "Monster! Monster! Get your pitchforks and torches!"  I know that is an exaggeration, but that is the anxiety I feel in public.  I can't tell you how many times I was complimented with, "Wow, You are a great person!  I always thought you were a Bitch."  I never knew how to respond, finally I started saying "Yeah, I am a great person.  Glad you figured it out!"

I am completely mind boggled at the beautiful talented woman who are told that they are beautiful and do not believe it!  In the theatre their were tiny girls with everything going for them paralyzed by thoughts of inadequacies.  My jaw would drop at the negative image these girls would have of themselves.  I'm measuring a size 2 dress and they are complaining about how fat they are.  My heart aches for they're fear and desperate wish for someone else to make them feel better.  The horrible belief that permeated every sentence was that they were nothing.  That the love given to them was conditional and would be taken away if they did not remain ever vigilant.  Compliments only were given because of social norms and that others must be lying to them or "just saying that".  Are YOU CRAZY!!!

Human nature is not to compliment.  I knew that every nice thing said to me was meant because I knew how hard it was for that person to get outside of themselves to actually notice.  Now maybe it is different for someone who has been compliment since birth, but I don't think so.  There is a big difference between a pick up line and a sincere expression.  The problem is how we ourselves internalize the positive or the negative.

My view changed dramatically when I entered the Missionary Training Center(MTC).  I believe when I was told the Missionary tag on your chest meant that you were a representative of Jesus Christ.  I started to falter on my mission when the other missionaries treated me the same as my childhood.  They were still seeing me as my stereotype or my body, not as the individual person that wanted so desperately to be recognized.  I believed that must be how God saw me also.  I was just a little red-headed dot in the sea of humanity, doomed to float away in an ocean of apathy, my talents buried, my essence drowned.  It was out there begging on my knees in desperation to be heard by anybody,that I was given a life changing gift.  Acknowledgement.  I felt God not only confirm to me his love, but much more important to me was the fact that I was important to Him.  That me, myself and I mattered inside of his world.  All the condemnation fell away like a discarded weight across my shoulders and very slowly I became open to change and recognizing where the fault is mine.

I have tried to face my bad with my good.  I try to accept responsibility for my faults and to be a realist with human behaviors.  I have forgiven many of the hurts because they have lead me to the knowledge and the certainties that I hold in my heart.  I am the product of my environment, but I believe that each one of us holds the potential to not only be great in the eyes of others, but to go beyond that and become truly happy.