Help me - where do I belong?
Why can’t they see past my exterior?
They think I’m a yak… but I’m really a lamb.
B is for Belonging
In primary school I always had a few good friends but I was never in what I considered, ‘the pretty, popular group’. I would look at those girls with envy, because they seemed to have it all. They were the ones who were chosen first for sporting teams, games and dancing. I was one of the last, or the last, to be picked. Always soul-destroying. As a child I thought being popular meant you had it made.
By the middle of primary school I had picked out one of the girls, Lisa, who I saw as being gorgeous. I convinced myself that if I hadn’t been born with my craniofacial syndrome, then I would have looked like her, and I would have had a better life because of that.
I only have one vivid memory of being evicted from a group. It was in Year Five and Abba was huge. We made up an ‘Abba’ group and I was in it. I can’t remember who I actually was but I was so excited! We were practising the dancing and singing in the withdrawal room, which was a little room adjacent to the classroom. I left the withdrawal room to go to the toilet. When I came back I had been kicked out of the group and relegated to working the cassette player. I was devastated. It hurt. Why wasn’t I good enough to be in the group? Was it my face?