I had a pretty happy childhood without having to overcome anything too difficult. That is, until I reached 7th Grade and was enrolled in a large senior elementary school. My school district had several K-6 grade schools, one 7th-8th grade (senior elementary) school, and a 9th-12th grade high school. My K-6 school had only one 6th grade class. I went to school with most of the same classmates since Kindergarten. Now I was in a school that was so large that I didn’t share classes with any of my original classmates. I suddenly was unknown, and I felt I knew no-one.
As I looked around, I noticed that all of the popular boys wore Levi’s. The double-arches of stitching on the back pockets and the red “Levi’s” tag on the right rear pocket was like a badge of coolness to me. I also noticed that these same guys often wore white socks. During cool weather, they wore a brown corduroy jacket with two vertical pleats in the shoulder-blade area. I so wanted to wear these same clothes.
The problem was that my mother bought my clothes. She wanted her son to look like a fine young man and would pick out slacks and collared shirts and black or brown leather shoes. To compound my situation, I wore glasses. These glasses were also picked out by my mom. They were black horn-rimmed glasses because I was so rough on things, and she felt these might hold up better to rough play. They did hold up, as I still have them to this day. To top things off, so to speak, my dad cut my hair. The style in 1961, at least at my age, was long hair that was greased back on the sides, meeting at the back. The top usually was also long and combed over the top and blended into one of the sides. It helped if you had wavy hair. Well, my dad was a military man and he cut my hair as he always cut it…in a butch. I got him to cut it flat on top, and I used a wax paste to make it stand straight up. Once, I convinced him to let the sides and back to be longer, so I could comb it back on the sides and meet the hair combed down in the back. I still had the short flat hair on top. That look didn’t last long.
To help in the appearance arena, it seemed everyone had matured over the summer from sixth grade. All the girls had breasts and all the boys had beards, or so it seemed to me. I, however, wouldn’t mature until the summer between my 9th and 10th grade. That is an eternity to a young teenage boy.
As can be imagined, my self-esteem was pretty low. At the end of each summer, our mom would take all of us kids shopping for school clothes. This was the beginning of my conflicts with my mother. I didn’t mind too much to have my mom picking out my clothes when I was younger, but once I was an adolescent, I had my own ideas of what looked good on me and what was going to get me bullied.
This shopping trip became a point of real contention. She was on a budget, so when I finally convinced her that it just wasn’t cool to wear slacks, she consented to get me a pair of jeans. However, Sears didn’t sell Levi’s, so I ended up with Sears Brand jeans…not cool. She just didn’t get why I wanted Levi’s. I wasn’t able to get white socks, either. The closest I came was a pair of red socks. It wasn’t quite the same. I really wanted one of those corduroy coats, too, but that was too much money and unessential in my mom’s mind.
My mom and I would come home from those shopping trips exhausted and frustrated. I would be so unhappy with my clothes, and my mom just couldn’t understand why I didn’t want to look nice. Six years later when my younger brother was faced with the same situation, they would come home, both just fuming. After a full day of conflict and arguing, they came home empty-handed. My reaction was, “What! You can do that? Not getting any clothes was an option?”
My self-esteem problem got a boost after joining the high school swim team and making new friends. I finally resolved my image issues in high school when I grew some pubic hairs. I also had a job and started buying my own clothes.
Life was much better my last few years of high school. I actually had fun, and I felt like I had my group of friends that I could eat lunch with and generally fit in. Adolescence is a challenging time in one’s life, and I was just so miserable. I can understand how life can get so tough and depressing that some want to just end it. I remember my mom telling me that this was just a rough spot in my life and that things would get better. It is hard to see that perspective when you are deep in the middle of being bullied and not having any friends. Unfortunately, some children find a permanent solution to a temporary problem. It is just so hard to see that this situation in life is just temporary.
Brian
I think most of the difficulties I’ve had in life I’ve brought on myself. I used to have a terrible aversion to anything to do with medical care for my body. I’m not sure why I was so afraid. Maybe it started when I was in the hospital, when I was eleven months old. The next experience I remember, with my doctor, was when I was 5 years old. My sister, Mardean, and I had our tonsils taken out together at the old hospital in Toledo. I remember being made to breathe the ether before I fell asleep. It was horrible, I hated it. I had terrible, upsetting dreams. After we got home we were both throwing up blood. Our doctor even made a home visit.
I was very afraid of my doctor. It didn’t help that every time I had an appointment, it was always a three hour wait, sitting with my Mom in the waiting room. I’d try and try not to cry but I finally couldn’t hold it in anymore. By the time I got in to see the doctor I was a sobbing mess. My doctor wasn’t very good with children and had no patience for me. Once my mom took me in to have a growth removed from my arm. After at least a three hour wait I was called in by myself. They had knives laid out on the counter in the exam room and the doctor was sharpening them. No one had explained anything to me, except that they were going to take off a growth on my arm. I didn’t know that my arm would be numb and I wouldn’t feel anything. I was sure the doctor was going to slice the growth off of my arm and I’d feel everything. I was terrified and couldn’t stop crying or hold still. Then I found out they were getting ready to give me a shot. I hated shots, I always thought they were so painful. I tried to bite the doctor. The doctor said he couldn’t work on me anymore. I think they had Mom come in and calm me & help hold me down and they finally got the job done. Doctor Gruber refused to see me anymore. Fine by me!
In elementary school, every few years it would be time for a vaccination or two. I was not very brave when it came to shots. I’d start crying the closer the line got to the nurse giving the shots. I hated it. I tried so hard not to cry, it was so embarrassing.
I had a lot of issues with my ears growing up. I had a lot of ear aches. There was a doctor in Salem, a two hour drive from Toledo, who Mom took me to. I hated that long drive and would get more and more nervous as we got closer. We would then have to wait in the waiting room for a while. Once again by the time I got into the doctor I’d be a basket-case. My eardrum ended up bursting and I ended up in the hospital in Salem overnight by myself, except for Teddy and a nice nurse. I was eight years old.
Going to the dentist wasn’t any better. I had to walk up a narrow dark flight of stairs and down a long hallway. You could smell the dentist’s office long before you reached it. It was in downtown Toledo over the local theater, at least there was a good view out of the upstairs windows. I went to him more then once but in the end I tried to bite him too, and he refused to work on me. I must have needed something done because Mom ended up taking me to Salem (two hours away) and the dentist put me to sleep to work on my teeth.
I wasn’t any braver when it came to hurting myself and needing to be cleaned up. I was so afraid of pain, I’d scream and cry and try not to let anyone touch me. My poor Mom!
I think overcoming my medical aversion had mostly to do with growing up and realizing I wasn’t doing myself any favors by acting the way I was and to stop being afraid. It really helped when I became pregnant, got used to visiting the doctor a lot, took LaMaze classes, and learned to relax . Learning to relax through pain makes a huge difference. I barely felt the last shot I had! Giving birth naturally helped too. I learned I could withstand a lot of pain.
Mary Lou
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