I am not Arm Girl
Wednesday, April 1st, 2009(Originally published on Disaboom)
Shark Girl by Kelly Bingham
Missing an arm is like wearing a coat,
A really big, hot ugly coat
That I can’t take off.
Ever.
It’s all that people see.–From Shark Girl by Kelly Bingham (my review)
Is that all I will ever be? Arm Girl. That’s how it feels sometimes. That’s how it feels when strangers jump to my rescue in public places. That’s how it feels when people I’ve just met tell me how proud they are of what I’ve done before I tell them anything about myself. That’s how sympathy feels. That’s how staring feels.
I was impressed with Kelly Bingham’s insight on the amputee experience. It isn’t quite my experience, but I felt much of the story in Shark Girl to be true to what I knew. The worries, the triumph, the frustrations. I felt all of those as a teen myself. So much so that I often became defensive about my arm as a result of people who fed into those feelings. I purposely sought to do the unexpected including getting a job as a server in a restaurant. I relished the experience and bragged about my job whenever I thought I could catch people off guard. Don’t you dare tell me I can’t. It became a mantra.
Thankfully those feelings have faded now. I’m approaching thirty, and I’ve left most of the defensiveness in my ability behind as I have grown comfortable in what I can and cannot do. I rarely bring up my tenure as a server these days, and when I do I forget why it was so significant until someone reminds me. I forget to notice when people stare or double take, and that’s okay.
Post-Art-Project Mess
Mostly, I’m just regular girl these days. A woman with a book in her purse and an art project in progress up in her studio. A mom juggling a baby and life with less hands than would be convenient. Just like anyone else.
I must admit to feeling more than a little off-put by the woman I met a few weeks ago whose first words to me were “What happened to your arm?” And when her response was so sincerely sad for me, I checked out of the conversation pretty quick. My more defensive side sprang to action to assume that someone who doesn’t “get it” couldn’t have anything to say of any import. I felt bad later for judging her about as quickly as she judged me. It isn’t easy to give people the benefit of the doubt. But it’s necessary if we are going to get anywhere with anyone.
I have confidence, though, that things and people can change. I know I have. Mostly.
