The Ugly Duckling

When I was in 7th grade, I had a horrific bicycle accident. I fell off the side of a bridge head-first into a river filled with large rocks. The result of the accident involved immediate reconstructive surgery on my face, my front 4 teeth being sewn back into my mouth, and several weeks and months out of school for rehabilitation. I had a severe concussion which required that I be awake for 48 hours after the accident so I didn't lapse into a coma, and I had many, many x-rays of my brain taken. I couldn't remember what day it was for more than 30 seconds at a time. In fact, I don't remember anything about the accident at all.

It was a scary time for me and my parents. The fact that we had been living in Japan for only 6-8 months and were facing a language barrier with the ambulance and hospital staff was icing on the cake.

Returning to school was even tougher. I didn't exactly fit in and as the child of missionaries was often made fun of by the ambassador and dignitary's children who attended the school as well. When these kids saw me walk into the school, my face covered in bandages, the cruelty that resulted was more painful than the accident itself. Some girls went to the school nurse and stole a box of band-aids. They placed them all over their face and walk around the school declaring that they knew I was just doing it to get attention and that they wanted attention too. I have never felt more alone.

I could have taken everything they said personally. I could have looked at my physical condition and decided that they were right about how ugly I was, about how poor we were, and about how undeserving I was to be in school with them. I could have shriveled up and died like they wanted me to. But I didn't.

I grew stronger. Maybe not physically (go ahead and remove those images of Rocky Balboa running down the streets of Philly). I grew mentally. I grew emotionally. I grew thicker skin. I was able to turn inward – but not to become an introvert. I looked inside myself for strength and courage. (And yes, at age 13, it took courage for me to go to school everyday and face those students.)

I listened to my father when he explained that those children probably did want attention because they didn't get it anywhere else. He told me that I was special because people wanted to listen to me, to be around me, and to hear what I had to say. Even at that young age, I learned the power of positive thinking. I didn't have a label for it, but I knew that when I "pumped myself up" each day before walking to school, that I felt better the rest of the day.

I found out that when I laughed with the students, that making fun of me was no longer enjoyable for them. Some even became friends. Just a few months later, we transferred to a new school. One with fewer classmates and a more tight-knit community setting. By building the foundation of courage, dignity, and pride at a time when it seemed the hardest, I was able to adapt to the new surroundings I now found myself in with relative ease.

Sure, I didn't go from ugly duckling to swan overnight. In fact, I'm still making that transition every day. But I know in my heart that I made the right decision that day back in 7th grade when I said to myself, "You are not who they say you are. You are who you believe you are."

Rachel Young is the owner of Big Cheese Marketing and is the nation's most recognized expert in the field of real estate investment marketing. You can view her blog and read more about her at www.bigcheesemarketing.com. Rachel is a proud member of the Gwinnett Chamber of Commerce, the American Marketing Association, and has her CTM from Toastmasters.