“You don’t have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body.”
~ C.S. Lewis
I’m pretty confident in saying that I struggled a bit as a child. I know we all have our difficulties, and probably mine weren’t any greater than the next kids’, but they felt huge to me at the time, and I guess, as per one of my last posts, I’m comfortable admitting that perception counts for a lot. Anyway, the source of a lot of my suffering was my body. First, I was tall. Really tall. By the time I was 10 years old I was 5’7″ (170 cm). Once, when out buying school supplies with my mom, the cashier asked, “So, will you be going into 6th or 7th grade this year?” I was going into 2nd. Tall wouldn’t have been all that bad, I guess, because there was, for the first few years of school, one boy who was taller than me (he left after 3rd grade. I have never forgiven him for that. Mr. David F., wherever you are…). But I was also fat. And fat can be cute sometimes, others not. Without a doubt I fell into the latter category. Compounding the issue, of course, was the fact that I had a terrible overbite accompanied by a horrendous lisp (thanks for sorting that out, Mom), and have always, always been quick to tears. Children can be mean, and I’m sure at times I was one of the mean kids, too, but most often I sat alone at lunchtime, or walked laps around the soccer field at recess. I was last picked for every game, and openly mocked in class by both teachers and students. I was decidedly unhappy.