Elephant Legs

I remember when I was about fourteen, my class teacher gave me the duty to write out her notes-of-the-day on the blackboard. As I was writing, the hunk-of-the-school called me. When I turned around, he said this in his loudest voice: 

'Evelyn, why are your calves like elephant legs? You shouldn't be called Evelyn. You should be called Elephant Legs!'

He then guffawed and turned around to the class and shouted 'Miss ELEPHANT LEGS!!!!!!!!!! HahahahahahahaahahaHAHAHAHAHAHA!'

My soul was scarred from that day on. I researched religiously on how to make my calves smaller. I began to only wear pants and long skirts. I wanted to keep my 'elephant legs' under wrap so that nobody could see them. I detested my 'elephant legs'. I would rather kill myself than to expose them and walk out of the house! Why did I have SUCH ugly legs?! My mind was always in my legs.

Sad to say, this went on until I was in my twenties and even in my early thirties.

Most of the time when my husband and I went out, he would point out to me those plus sized ladies wearing dresses, skirts and shorts who had bigger legs than me. He would say, 'Look at them! They are so much bigger than you and are so confident! Why won't you be like them? You're not Elephant Legs!'

Unfortunately, the scales did not fall off my eyes. I couldn't spew out the thorn that was embedded inside my soul so deeply. It was too rooted.

Until one day....

When I met Death. 

The shackles have been falling off slowly over the past seven years. 

Imagine that I used to wear pants to the wet market. 

Thinking back, I was NUTS! Yes, the elephant legs must have love nuts!

The change was slow and steady. The confidence grew bit by bit.

It started with shorts to the market. Then it progressed to the supermarket.  To the shops. To school. Shorts soon graduated to knee length skirts. Worn to malls. 

Who gives a damn if my legs do not conform to the Supermodels' strict size 0 measurements? Who cares if my legs are not miles long? Marilyn Monroe was considered fat at one time. And then she became perfect. Fat, thin, skinny: the ruler that is used to measure fluctuates all the time. It never ends. Perfect beauty doesn't exist. I have legs that can carry me and walk. Period. And that's what I'm thankful for. 

To the little girl whose friends called you ugly and rejected you because you're different from them, you're you. You're special. And I hope you will not waste 20 years thinking that you're ugly. You're a beautiful girl. 

What happened to the 'hunk' who called me elephant legs, you ask?

Well, he got married, had a son and decided one day to walk out of their lives as he needed to have his life back. 

I guess he has an elephant butt upstairs.