Scars To My Beautiful — Jillian Ilana

On Sunday there is nothing better than waking up, taking a 20 minute yoga class, putting on a face mask, listening to my favorite podcasts, and getting ready for the week ahead.

MV5BZTM3ZTdmNTMtNDcwOC00MzBhLWJiNjQtOGE0NTQxNDUyZDdhXkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyODcwNzM2MjA@._V1_.jpg

As you may know, one of my favorite podcasts is Diet Starts Tomorrow. During their most recent episode hosts Sami Sage and Aleen Dreksler sat down with Angela Manuel Davis, former member of the USA Track and Field Team, motivational coach, Nike athlete, and co-founder of AARMY. Now, normally when I listen to a podcast I am driving, running errands, or cleaning. But during this episode I just had to sit down and listen because what was being said was resonating and I wanted needed to absorb every word.

One quote from Angela echoes in my mind.

“You don’t tell your story from your wounds, you tell your story from your scars. For your body to scar that means you’re alive, that you made it through, and you can tell your story.”

I have scars that I have tried to conceal over the past 26 years. Physical scars from surgeries past that I used to be ashamed of and mental scars from being a little person in an average-sized world. The physical scars are superficial, reminders that being a little person is not always easy. My ears are scarred from a seemingly infinite number of ear infections. My legs are scarred from surgeries past. When I was five I had my right leg straightened followed by my left one eleven years later. I vividly remember when I was younger choosing to wear long pants to school in the summer for as long as possible because I did not want people to see my scars, to ask questions, to feel more different. At some point, and I don’t remember exactly when, I realized that I was being ridiculous. People are always going to stare and ask questions whether or not they could see my legs. Those scars made me a stronger person. Those scars remind me that I can walk, run, jump, dance. Yes, the surgeries were painful. But they were necessary. Yes, the scars are not pretty. But they are mine. They are chapters in my story.

The mental and emotional scars may be invisible but they cut deeper. I have scars from grief, from anxiety, from depression. There were days where I wished I wasn’t a little person because maybe then I would not feel invisible. Being the only little person in any room I walk into I constantly felt like conversations were happening above me and no one was looking at me. There were days where I was exhausted from fighting twice as hard to earn half as much as everyone else. I remember doing an experiment with one of my average-height friends in elementary school where she took a step and then I took a step and landed exactly halfway between her and our starting line, proving I literally had to take two steps for her one. There were days where the grief was just too overwhelming to manage. After resisting for days on end, I made the difficult decision to withdraw from school after my father passed, taking the time I needed to grieve. The pain was raw and it sometimes felt those wounds would never heal...but they did. I learned how to battle anxiety, depression, grief and come out on top. I got my anxiety under control. I graduated college. I stopped wishing to be someone I’m not.

Would it be better to one day wake up one day and be “normal”? A younger me might have said yes without any hesitation. Now? I would say no. Physically, things would be easier if I was “normal”. I would not need pedal extenders to drive nor to climb shelves in a grocery store. But easier is not better. I would not be as strong or resilient as I am today if I didn’t have to fight those battles and earn those scars. Like Angela said…

“I am not the victim, I am already victorious.”

Listening to Sami, Aleen, and Angela’s empowering conversation helped me realize how far I’ve actually come.

I am telling my story.

A younger version of myself would not be able to type these words. In fact, she would never imagine herself creating this platform and using her voice in this way. Now, though I sometimes struggle to find the exact words, I know my voice and how to use it. I know that I am capable of speaking up for myself and what I believe in because I’ve done it before. But the most important thing I’ve realized is that I’m not just telling this story, my story, for me. I’m telling my story so that the next generation of young, female, little people know that they are not alone in their battles. I am telling my story so that little girls, like the one I used to be, know that they are not invisible in a world that tries to tell them otherwise. As little people, we may have to take twice as many steps, but we will get there.