Thanks, Ill Take It As a Compliment

You didnt grow any taller since the last measurement date, my teacher frankly pointed out to me. It
was on my sixth grade when this comment hit my system hard. I tried to understand every reason that I
could think at that moment that provoked her to say such subtle remark. Honestly, it created a massive
impact on how I viewed myself. From then on, I began to compare my height with the other kids my age.

I begin to notice signs of discrimination as the physical imperfection begin to matter to me that much. I
started giving counter comments every time a person says something about my physical attributes. In
the classroom, I was seated on the front row. During flag ceremonies, I was always on the third or fourth
order in the line. At speech choir presentations, I was always a front liner. I kept telling myself that all
those things happened and keep on happening because I was short. I AM SHORT. Whenever someone
made a comment about my height, my self-esteem shattered.

Puberty made it even harder for me. Instead of seeing the process as a hope to see myself gaining
height, it was rather a voice of the truth. My friends grew taller and taller, and me? All the same, except
for some body shape changes. I admired my friends for their good body heights. I would look at mine
and get disappointed at how pitiful it was.

Blame it on my teacher for making such an abrupt comment. Blame it on my friends for getting so tall.
Blame it on the boys for mixing compliments with insults. Blame it on my mothers mom for being short.
Blame it on my mother for passing the genes to me. Or the food supplements that promises height
increase but never worked. Blame it on everythingbut myself. I carried the insecurity and let it dictate
the social activities of my life. It frustrated me.

One day in college, I went into this popular bookstore with my mom. I hovered over the deck of fictional
pieces but I noticed a little later that I reached the religious section. I saw this booklet with an
inscription: Young Women on the Journey: Beauty for Ashes. I bought the book, brought it at the dorm
and began reading it. And as I read through it, a single powerful line dazzled my sight: Isnt it obvious
that a potter has a perfect right to shape one lump of clay into a vase for holding flowers and another
into a pot for cooking beans?Romans 9:21 (NIV)

I cried so much that day. I realized that I may come up with all kinds of reasons to blame my physical
flaws on anything but never the right to question and test Gods purpose for His design. I felt so foolish
that I actually wasted a few years of my life being enslaved by insecurity and fear of rejection. I had
stereotyped every comment thrown at me as something that demeans my value and focused on the
same imperfection over the years. I thought my self-worth was based on how I looked and what others
thought about me. Wherein fact, hundreds of young women battled the same struggle but learned to
live the truth with acceptance, contentment and gratefulness because they knew that it was part of the
potters great blueprint.

In the midst of self-discovery, embracing the truth I had refused for a long time was the only answer
heaven gave me. I was broken apart by my worldly perception of beauty so I could see the real beauty
shaped by grace and love. Because I had consecrated a single moment to deafen my ears from the
unending judgments to listen to that still small voice, I found my identity: an identity far from the basis
of physical attractions but close to being a mirror to someone who is continuously walking on the same
ground of discrimination I once walked through helpless and innocent of knowing how to break through.

Now, I honestly still get the same comments. It has gotten even worse when they spice a seemingly
negative comment with an insult-reducing compliment so to make it sound like a neutral remark. We
just cant expect people to zip their mouths from saying anything. But Im no longer that same clueless
and hopeless kid. I had learned to walk brightly through these shadows for I know deep inside the core
of my heart, Im one of Gods masterpieces.

So, what if Im short? I cant deny it, wouldnt even try. But thanks! Ill gladly take that as a
compliment. (Chrishelle Mae Canda)