Today I'm joining MamaKat at
Mama's Losin' It. Each week, she sends out writing prompts, and we get to choose which one we'd like to participate in.
I chose writing prompt #1:
In what way were you labeled as a child and how did it affect you?
My Dad had a real knack for doling out nicknames. I swear (but not really) that he's the best I've ever seen at renaming people. Not that the people ever ask for it, mind you. But nevertheless, his talent far outweighs any other.
For example, I have two older brothers. Bob and Larry are their real names (and no, they are not a tomato and cucumber). But according to Dad, they're
Mort (short for rigor mortis), and
Leapin' Larry Lizzard (or just Lizzard), respectively.
And our friend who stuck a rock up his nose and had to be rushed to the doctor? Twenty years later, he's still not referred to as Michael. He's
Rock Beak.
And me? Well, I'm
Brenda Pooh. Or Pooh Bear, Pooey, Pooey Looey Fooey, or any other funky combinations.
How did that label affect me as a child? Hmm. Well, I was also known (by my teachers) as being "drifty," a daydreamer, one who would forget her head if it weren't screwed on .. and even stupid. (To this day, I hope the teacher who told me I was dumb either got fired or retired. She truly had no business being a teacher.)
Maybe if the label Pooh Bear was my one and only label, I wouldn't have thought much of it. But group that label with the other labels, and I think it somewhat made an impact on my ability to believe I was intelligent. I mean, let's face it. Pooh Bear's dumber than a rock. A "bear of very little brain."
I do confess that I am a daydreamer. To this day, I find myself in a group conversation, but thinking about something completely different. Or watching tv, but not hearing or seeing anything I'm looking at. Not constantly ... but it is definitely a battle.
Does that mean I'm stupid?
No, it does not.
But it took me a couple of decades to overcome believing that I was. You don't have to hear something over and over for it to make an impact. Sometimes, if words are hurtful enough, you only need to hear them once before the damage is done.
Where does one turn when their "self-esteem" is ripped away or severely damaged?
All I know is that eventually, you have to turn to someone other than the flawed people whom we live with on this planet. And I eventually came to the conclusion that it only matters what my Creator thinks. Scripture has taught me that "I am fearfully and wonderfully made (Ps. 139:14)" and that I am "loved with an everlasting love (Jer. 31:3)". Not only that, but I am "precious in His sight (Is. 43:4)."
Does realizing these truths mean I don't have challenges?
No.
Does it excuse me from trying my hardest, and learning to concentrate better?
Nope.
But it does validate me as a person who is loved by my God, with an everlasting love. He created me, and I am precious in His sight.
If that doesn't boost a gal's feeling of self-worth, I don't know what will.
I'm reminded of the old sing-song "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."
That's the biggest lie I've ever heard. Words do hurt. Words have incredible impact. So please ... think before you speak, especially when you're speaking to a child.
I asked my Dad a while back whether I was nicknamed Pooh Bear because I was a "kid of very little brain." His answer made me smile. He said, "Noooooo!! It was because Pooh Bear was so cute, and so were you!"
Fortunately, I never realized Pooh was referred to as a bear of very little brain until I was older.
And fortunately, Dad still calls me
Brenda Pooh.
