When I was young, I biked, snow skied, waterskied, danced, and played basketball, volleyball, and softball. Though I wasn’t a great athlete, I set a school district record in the high jump for girls my height. I was proud of all I could use my body to do.

Unfortunately, my abilities did not matter to a few of my middle school classmates. They teased me because my body was maturing more slowly than theirs. I looked like a young girl when the others were starting to look like adolescents. I assumed everyone was judging me, and I was miserable.

Eventually, I grew up. I found someone to share my life with and we had three daughters. One of them, Tai, was born with bilateral hip dysplasia. Her pelvis was missing the deep curvatures on each side that would have held her thigh bones in place. The problem had to be fixed surgically or she would never walk comfortably.

When Tai was three, she had operations that left her with two long scars on each leg and two long scars on each hip. She was in a cast from her armpits to her ankles for three months. When the cast was removed she was frightened by the scars, but her dad and I told her they were beautiful badges of courage. She must have believed it, too, because she was a confident, active, happy little girl.

One day, a girl at swim class pointed at Tai’s scars and said, “Eeew. What are those?” I knew Tai’s feelings were hurt, even though she didn’t let the girl see her eyes fill with tears.

Tai, who is 22 now, said, “When I was younger, I thought my scars were humongous, ugly, and weird. But by high school, I forgot about them until someone asked. I realized I only imagined people were judging me. Mainly, they thought the scars were cool looking. Now, I’m in college and I am happy to talk about them. They are a unique thing that only I have.” She added, “Most people don’t really care how other people’s bodies look or work. And if anyone does make a rude comment, why waste your time getting upset?”

I didn’t have Tai’s confidence when I was in middle school, but I’m glad that I didn’t let my hurt feelings stop me from doing the things I enjoyed. Today, I’m 54, and I still like to dance and ski. I also enjoy a tough exercise class that makes me stronger, faster, and more flexible. It doesn’t matter what those kids teased me about in middle school. My body does a lot of what I want and need it to do. That makes me happy.

Everyone has a body that can do something special, even if it’s different from what other people’s bodies can do. What does your body do that makes you happy?

Additional Activities

Download the Spring 2014 UUWorld Families Pages (pdf) for more activities.

Originally published in the “Families Weave a Tapestry of Faith” insert in The UUWorld.