Web Finds: Because Who Is Perfect?

I saw this link shared on Facebook and the preview was of a woman's curved spine. I thought, wait, hold on, what is this? I clicked on it and safe to say I cried within the first 30 seconds when I realized what this was going to be about. Basically for International Day for Persons with Disabilities, Pro Infirmis decided to make a campaign in Zurich's Bahnhofstrasse (Zurich is one of my favorite cities bee tee dubs). You know how mannequins depict the perfect svelte figures of women and the shredded torso of men? Well, this time, the mannequins are molded to the shape of people with disabilities ranging from those suffering from brittle bone diseases to scoliosis.

Let's get to it:

"If you want to make a human being into a monster, deny them, at the cultural level, any reflection of themselves," said Junot Diaz. 

And deny us they did. Since the age of 12, I have suffered from scoliosis, which is the same thing the girl in the video has, although mine wasn't as bad. You know, the one with the bent spine incidentally named Jasmine as well. It started out mild, with a 15 degree thoracic curve and a 10 degree lumbar curve. I received physical therapy and odd treatments everyday after school which I had kept secret from my peers lest I be teased about my subtle deformity. Not long after, my spine had increased to a massive 64 degree thoracic curve, even with the daily physical therapy. So I underwent a grueling month-long therapy session in Singapore during the summer of 9th grade. My curve dropped to 42 degrees and I continued my therapy at home everyday using one of their machines, until I moved to Melbourne. Two years in Melbourne without any physical therapy and sports was not good for me or my question-marked spine. So when I visited a surgeon in early 2012, my curve went back up to a nasty 69 degrees. I know. 69. I giggled at it too, but I don't think the surgeon found it as humorous as I did.

Fast forward to January 2013, where after countless x-rays and MRI scans I have finally been admitted to the hospital for spinal fusion from my T5 to L1, which was basically the entire part of my top spine and a little of my bottom half. My curvature actually went up to 82 degrees by January, showing the surgeon the deathly progression. That's only 8 degrees away from a 90 degree angle, guys. That ain't fly fo me. So on January 10th, 2013, I woke up from my post-anesthetic daze, half assuming I have already been paralyzed from the waist down, until the nurse touched my toes and asked, "can you feel that?" I nearly shat myself from excitement if I wasn't so drugged.

Spent a week and a half in the hospital, got slightly addicted to the morphine and ketamine, and after being bedridden for 6 weeks and not being able to sit, stand, shower or eat without feeling like death is imminent, I survived. I became 5cm taller which is why most people recently have asked me whether or not I have grown. Yes, yes I have. From an incredible 7-hour session in the OR, mind you. This is my notorious before and after picture I have shown people whenever they ask me, "how did you get so tall all of a sudden?" or "what is that on your back?"

I now have cobalt chrome rods and metal pins fusing 8 vertebraes, rendering it immobile forever. As a result, I have a sick-ass scar that go down from the bottom of my neck to the bottom half of my spine, which I absolutely adore. It's a battle scar and it's a story to tell.

But the worst part about having a twisted spine and a severely bent torso is how shallow you suddenly become. With the media perpetuating the perfect bodies of models and actresses, I saw no one like me out there. No one. I searched long and hard for celebrities with scoliosis but no one had it as bad as mine, and so they could still rock a backless Valentino gown on the red carpet. I wanted to relate to someone of power. Someone who could speak to me and say, "you're doing just fine because look at me now."

Most people get angry at the media for not showing more black people or curvier girls or uglier women, but I was angry that they didn't show anyone like me. I saw no one wearing baggy clothes to hide their protruding shoulder blade. I saw no one wearing a brace. No one painfully pushing their torsos the opposite direction so they will appear 'straight' and 'normal'. No one hyperventilating after going up and down the stairs. I saw no one like me on TV. I identified with nobody but myself and a handful of friends who were going through what I was going through, albeit not as severe.

I love this video so much, and reading the comments I realized most people think this isn't empowering at all. They think it's patronizing to people with disabilities, and to those comments I say nay! Naaaaaay! This video reduced me to tears because it resonated in me. Whenever I shop and I look at the mannequins, I feel a sense of visceral hate towards the object. How could you stand so tall and perfect and I have to hide my body behind sweaters?

What I wished I did was take a picture of my body before the surgery. But I didn't. I hated it so much that I didn't dare see it. I wish I did. I wish I could look at it and tell my old self, "you're okay, kid."