Self Image

How important is it to you?

By Annette Beach

I was born tall and grew up being the tallest kid on the block, tallest girl in class and too tall for the boys in my age group.

Being somewhat of a tomboy, I used height to my advantage. When necessary, it gave the appearance of being a bit tougher on the playground, got me onto roller coasters that my friends couldn’t ride and I passed for being older than my actual age.

Aside from being nicknamed, “spider legs,” the only real negative was having people describe me as being “a big boned girl.” Trust me, no girl wants to be called, “big boned.” When you feel like a giant, there’s no comfort in those words.

Before my diagnosis (and even a few years into it), my health was good and I was physically strong. I was confidence and felt I had the ability to do whatever I set my mind to. Growing up with the stigma of always being the biggest girl made me aware of self-image, but it wasn’t something that bothered me.

As my arthritis worsened and limitations increased, I began to notice a change in abilities. My long arms couldn’t reach very far, fused wrists decreased mobility, deformed feet eliminated smooth walking and bad knees caused a limp.

Knowing arthritis made me look rusty, I took it as a challenge to look as healthy as I could and to move with ease in the public eye. I thought my hands and limp were the most noticeable flaws so I concentrated on walking straight and hiding my hands.

For a long time, I thought I’d mastered movement and was good at faking normal range of motion. Then one day I saw myself on a television segment and I was devastated! I did not move with grace. Instead I was rickety and awkward. The reality of knowing that’s how others see me was painful. It was far from what I saw in my mind.

While talking to a friend about the damage to our bodies caused by arthritis, we both felt similar losses. We agreed that on the days we feel good, our minds tell us we’re healthy and we look like everybody else. But when we get a glimpse from a reflection or see ourselves in a mirror, it can ruin the moment [sometimes more].

I told my friend about an image that never gets old. I love when I’m driving my convertible downtown and I stop for a traffic light then see my reflection in the windows of a building. It’s me from the shoulders up, sitting in a sports car with the top down, looking normal. The image does not show my defective parts or lack of mobility. To everyone around me, along with myself, I’m just an ordinary person.

Has your illness changed the way you see yourself? Do you think our society puts too much emphasis on self-image?