A few days ago I posted a seemingly harmless comment on an online news article relating to a convicted criminal who was facing new charges for a different transgression. It was suggested that because this individual was already serving time for other convictions, that new charges were ‘kicking a person while they are down’. Going against better judgment, I commented that if a person was guilty, and proven so, that they should rightly be charged and serve their additional sentence. Commenting and offering opinions on articles of this nature goes against my better judgment, but nobody is perfect, sometimes we do things that we know we probably should just turn and walk away from. Entertaining fools offers no rewards.
I’m intelligent enough to know that right and wrong aren’t viewed the same for everyone. If we all did, we’d have no need for prisons, law enforcement and justice systems. Be that as it may though, my small opinion on any particular topic really does mean nothing in the greater scheme of things, not everyone will agree with them and that is also OK. What a dull world this would be if we all agreed with each other 100% of the time.
So I have to admit to being slightly surprised at the retaliation with which I was greeted with. Comments were made attacking both my opinion and my physical appearance, as an attempt to goad me into defending myself and retaliating. They were aimed at hurting me, making me feel inferior and a less worthy human being. Had those comments been hurdled at me even a year ago, I may well have taken them to heart. But I’m not the same person that I was a year ago. I’m stronger now. More confident. More self-assured in who I am and who I want my daughter to have as a role model growing up.
I want her to learn from me that there is a difference between right and wrong. That a society can only function when we uphold and understand right from wrong. I want her to show compassion and respect to others. She needs to form her own opinions on people based on their actions and not on their appearance. She needs to know that bullying, threatening, undermining and belittling someone to boost her own ego will get her absolutely nowhere in life. I want her to embrace the fact that we are by design, all different, that your physical appearance has absolutely no bearing as to who you are as a person. She needs to know that people will have different opinions and views in life and that is perfectly OK. She also needs to know that using her words to undermine, hurt and humiliate others for personal gain and self-confidence does not make you worthy anyone’s respect. I want her to treat others how she would expect to be treated herself.
I’m proud of who I am as a person. I do not shy away from standing up for myself or for my loved ones. I had to advocate, fight and throw my opinions around to keep my daughter alive, from before she was even born. I had opinions on her eating problems from the very first few weeks of her being home. I voiced those to every medical professional we encountered. They weren’t always heard, they weren’t always taken seriously, but in the end, they went a great way towards finding professionals who were able to diagnose her and help us, to this day.
I’m proud of the fact that my stance on right and wrong makes me the type of person that some people do not want to be associated with, because the feeling is mutual. Life is short. I’d prefer to spend my time with likeminded people who have respect for the law and understand the difference between right and wrong. I want the people with which my daughter will grow up being surrounded by, to be good, honest, loving people and role models with integrity and a set of morals and ethics that will go towards building her up into a strong, confident and compassionate person.
I’m also proud of my breasts, which were referred to as ‘pap sakke’ (saggy bags). Another comment and dig aimed at degrading an undermining me. These saggy bags nourished my daughter for 4 months. Against all the odds stacked against me, after nearly dying while trying to give her a chance at life, they were able to produce milk for her first few months in life. They nestled her when she grew strong enough to be held. Their warmth and comfort stabilized her blood pressure, breathing and heart rate. When she was suffering with reflux and screaming from exhaustion, pain and hunger, they comforted her. When she was sick and needed comforting, they were there for her and still are. They may not be as perky and pretty as a young woman’s, but I’m not a young woman anymore, so I can’t expect them to be what they aren’t.
We aren’t designed to leave this world in mint condition. My body and my breasts may not be in their best shape. But they have made sacrifices for my child that few can understand. To my own detriment in many ways I neglected my own mental and physical health and appearance for the last few years while focusing on raising our medically fragile daughter. I fought through deadly levels of high blood pressure, fluid building up in my lungs, my liver and kidneys failing, the risk of blood clots, heart attacks and strokes, all for our daughter to have a chance at life. I placed so much focus and energy in her first few months that I failed to recognize a potentially devastating combination of PTSD and PPD which very nearly resulted in me taking my own life.
So, if the worst insults that somebody can come up with is that my opinions irritate the shit out of them, and that my breasts are saggy, then I consider my life so far to be a fairly good success.
Once we have left this world, our outward appearance is going to be one of the least remembered attributes. We won’t be remembered for how much money we made, what types of cars we drove, or how big our houses were. We will however, be remembered for how we treated others, the lessons we taught them, the time we spent with them, and how we spent that time. We will be remembered for our actions, and words. Best we use those words wisely and spread positivity, integrity, understanding, love and respect.
Now if you’ll kindly excuse me, our sickly toddler want to nuzzle up to her moms saggy breasts for comfort as she fights her first cold of the winter.