Alive

I’m not even sure when it started. Some time around the age of 9 or 10 I guess. Possibly after my surgeries started. Or after I had started going to a special school. Maybe it was just puberty like any other “normal” kid. I became embarrassed of my body.

I know every kid goes through this stage of course. But for me, with the added element of a disability mixed in, it became much more than just insecurity.

I remember for a long time not even believing that I was in the body that I was in. I had built up an idea of who I was, and that wasn’t it. I lived in that bubble. I didn’t want to deal with the reality of this mangled mess. Then I would pass a store window and accidentally catch my own reflection out of the corner of my eye. I would cringe. It was upsetting. I didn’t want to be that person.

In my mid-twenties, I decided enough was enough. I had accepted my reality of having a disability, but I still had not come to grips with the body that I was in. This had to change and I decided to figure out how on my own.

It took decades. I forced myself to look at my own reflection, to take pictures and video even. To look and watch and accept slowly that yes, that IS me and that IS my body. It may sound silly to some of you, how could you not know what you really look like? But I had never wanted to really look. I didn’t want to see, I didn’t want to deal with it. My technique may not be the best, I’m not sure, but it’s what worked for me.

Accepting is only part of the challenge. I then had to move on to actually liking what I saw. To believing that I was actually ok to look at, and that someone else might think so too.  Again, this took a very long time. But I eventually got there. It helped that I had a few girlfriends along the way. But I am certain I could never have been with anyone if I had not first accepted my body for what it was.

Still, even after all that work and effort, there was one thing I was never able to do. Much like the chubby kid at public pool who wears a t-shirt, I have never had the courage to take my shirt off in public. I had convinced myself that nobody wants to see that, “it’s not normal, I’m not normal, stay covered up”.  Until today.

Kelly and I went for a walk at a trail we had never been to. It was hotter than hell today, around 96 Fahrenheit and very humid, so it felt more like 105. The trail was deserted so I thought what the heck, and off came my shirt. No big deal, there’s nobody around.  But then, in the distance, some kids on bikes were coming. I nearly panicked and put it back on. I fought the urge, I drew on the courage that I get from Kelly, the confidence her love gives me, and fought the urge. It was two boys, they nodded hello and kept going, as if it was nothing, which it was. Then came the man with the dog. Same thing, only he made small talk before moving on.

When we left the trail, I put my shirt back on and we drove to another nature park. This is one we go to often. Many more people there. I doubted we could stay long because it was so hot. When we got there, Kelly settled in to read her book at a covered picnic table, and I went off into the woods. The heat was unbearable, and I decided after only a few minutes that the only way I could handle it was to take my shirt off again, and I did.

For a long time I saw no one, but soon I came across a family, they smiled and said hello. Later I passed a mother and daughter, bikers, runners, a young couple with a dog. Everyone smiled and many made small talk about the heat. It was great; I grew so comfortable I spent well over 2 hours shirtless.  I even was able to use the timer on my camera to get a picture of myself. It was a little washed out because I was white as a ghost. I’m a nice shade of lobster red now.

I think Kelly was quite surprised to see me arrive at her side sans-shirt. She knew of my insecurity, and as she was under a canopy in a more open public area, she knew it was something that was unthinkable for me just few hours before. 

She was still enjoying her book, so I went back into the woods for a bit longer. I had not had enough. I stopped for about ten minutes on a deserted part of the trail, way in the back. The park burns the area every spring to keep it free of trees, so it’s a natural prairie grass type habitat. I’m not sure if I can adequately explain how alive I felt. For over 30 years, I had not felt the sun or the wind on my skin. I turned towards the sun and just enjoyed its heat. I closed my eyes and felt the wind on my skin. I’m free.