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A blustery March morning.
As the outdoor temperature rises, I seem to feel more cold indoors, as was always the case, nonsensical as that may be.
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Maintaining a comfortable body temperature has been a challenge to me all my adult life, always at least a degree too warm or too cool.
Maybe it’s part of a larger issue – body dis-morphia, never comfortable in my clothes or with my appearance.
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Contentment came but once in a blue moon, but why?
Where does self-consciousness originate?
Was it severe childhood asthma? Not being able to breathe certainly focuses the attention on oneself, but I got over that living in Asia.
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It wasn’t until I realised, with shock, that I did not have perfect metabolism that I became so self-aware.
My grandmother was a very large lady, not because she over-ate, but because she had some sort of glandular disorder, but my mother and her sisters all struggled with weight issues, so I was fearful of what I might become.
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Luckily, my flirtation with anorexia was just that. It never had a chance to take hold, but forevermore I counted calories and fretted.
Being denied a job in uniform by Pan American was a terrible blow to my self-image, only partially restored when BOAC hired me three weeks later.
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A year after, I was diagnosed with thyroid disease and soon had most of the gland removed, a most disagreeable surgery in those days.
It was a hot July, which made having a tight bandage around my neck extremely unpleasant and the staples were painful, but they left much less of a scar than stitches would.
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In that experience, I was also fortunate however, as my vocal nerves were not severed and the nodes removed were not malignant.
A colleague had the same surgery not long after with devastating results.
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As I recovered and went back to worrying about my weight, I was teased about thyroid issues not necessarily being the reason for ones rounded shape.
It was not malicious teasing nor intended to hurt, but of course it did.
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Periodically and for no reason I could determine, my weight fluctuated by about ten pounds, which was a great frustration.
Fortunately, the uniform could absorb it and needing fewer of my own clothes, I could afford to have different sizes, but I always felt sluggish and uncomfortable as the weight came back on.
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Being conscious of your clothes makes you aware of your body and the terminal where I worked had temperature-control issues.
It was always too hot or too cold. Too hot in winter and too cold in summer, just to be contrary.
This was long before the delights of menopause!
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Living in Long Beach on Long Island was very pleasant in the summer when ocean breezes moderated the temperature so that you could survive without air conditioning.
How I came to regret moving away from the beach!
Transferring to Washington State, I put my warm winter clothes away and never wore a coat. It seemed nice, but contrary to what you hear, Seattle summers were long and dry and increasingly hot. After some years I didn’t enjoy the climate anymore and missed the seasons.
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So, for one reason and another it was back to New York and somewhere in that great and fairly shattering move, I managed to lose most of my discomfort.
Gone was depression, as if I’d shed a heavy mantle.
Over the following years, triggers evoked old emotions but I was able to acknowledge and dismiss them.
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Mostly, I think, it’s been a matter of simply letting go of a lifetime of confusion, anger and frustration, of hoping in vain for what will never be.
Acceptance.
And latterly, abandoning medication that hooks its way into your chemistry and makes you different, unnatural.
Summer is still too hot for me – which is why I have an air-conditioner and shiver in July!
Thank you, Carolyn, for your interesting update on the medical issues. I like the photographic skills of your nature work.
Joanna
Wonderful photo of the hawk in the grass!
what a challenging journey, but you made it through, stronger and more confident – and I love your photos