A to Z Blogging Challenge: The "U" Edition

Proverbs 4
⁵ Get wisdom! Get understanding!
Do not forget, nor turn away from the words of my mouth.
⁶ Do not forsake her, and she will preserve you;
Love her, and she will keep you.
⁷ Wisdom is the principal thing;
Therefore get wisdom.
And in all your getting, get understanding.

   I’ve always felt different because of my size.   When I was a young child, I was skinny and tall…taller than all the other kids my age.  Perhaps I looked older than my 5 or 6 years because of my height.   Before I was in the first grade, at my grandmother’s house, my uncle was giving my smaller cousins a “horsey ride” on his back.   When it came to what I thought was my turn, he told me he wouldn’t ride me because I was “bigger.”   At the time, I thought it was because I was taller, and I really don’t know why he did that…maybe he was tired, or he thought I was 7 or 8 instead of 4 or 5, but that’s the first clear memory I have of thinking I was unworthy or different because of my size.

In the first grade, my teacher was a tyrant.  My seat was practically right under her nose, and she was not nice to me.   An example of things that happened:  My classmate, Regina, dropped her pencil (those fat pencils that the school provided) and the lead broke.   My back was to the teacher’s desk (we sat at tables, 4 to a table) and I never saw what was coming.   Regina apparently told the teacher that I broke the lead, and the next thing I know, I was jerked up out of my seat and paddled, in front of everyone.  I had no clue what for!   Even if it had been my pencil, we had a pencil sharpener!  Another time, a classmate threw up right beside me, and she wouldn’t let me move.  I had to sit there until the janitor got it cleaned up.

I was afraid to tell my parents what was going on because that was the days of “if you get in trouble at school, you’ll get in trouble at home.”  But that treatment reinforced the lie I already believed:  I was treated that way because I was bigger (and wore cat-eye glasses to boot) than the other kids.  The belief of that lie has caused much grief in my life.

My “unworthiness” was not a conscious thought process.  I was not thinking, “I am treated this way because I am tall.”  No, it was something I just believed, but didn’t realize it until much later in life.  I can’t explain what that six year old Margaret was thinking.  (But I’ll have to add that I felt just as punished because my name was “Margaret” in addition to being tall, skinny, and wearing glasses.)

As I approached middle school age, I was still taller than most of my classmates, and I was getting a little chunky in addition to being “big boned.”  I never felt as if I belonged anywhere, I felt like I couldn’t do anything “good enough.”  Good enough for what, or for whom, I am not sure…but I certainly felt unworthy.  It was in these elementary years that I began my quest for satisfaction in the form of food…especially junk food.

If you are still with me…you’ve read almost 600 words.  Any good blogger knows you shouldn’t use more than 500 in an entry.

Tomorrow I’ll finish my history and tell you about vindication and my value.