Don’t let others keep you small by Annelie N

At some point during a tenth grade German class, I remember my teacher asking me: “What`s the motto that you live according to?” Back then, I didn`t have a good answer to give her. So, before speaking in front of all of you today, I revisited that question. And what I finally came up with is: “Don`t you let others keep you small”. Yes, that`s what`s supposed to be the motto of my life. To help you understand what these words mean to me, I`ll tell you the story of who I am.

I was born in Hangzhou, People`s Republic of China in September 2003. My parents are both doctors, so they are bound to have noticed the lymphedema on my hands and feet. They didn`t make much of it though- at any rate, no genetic testing was done. When I was just above one year of age, our family moved to Germany, and shortly after that, the older one of my two younger sisters was born.

What I remember from my childhood years is being a quiet child, a dreamer, quick to pick up words and concepts- yet at the same time, hopelessly clumsy, hopelessly scared of life. All of these traits are perfectly covered under the law of normal distribution, by the way. I also remember always being the odd one out, even back at kindergarten- Yet never being quite able to put my finger on why it was so hard for me to find acceptance. In some ways, I still haven`t figured that one out- I still don`t know how children can be this cruel.

Just after I had turned six, I entered school as curious as any child, like a sponge for all the subtleties of language, scientific concepts and philosophical ideas. At home, my parents were realizing that I was able to achieve, at least academically- So they proved quick to demand. From both me and my sister, the very best still wasn`t good enough for them. As many Chinese would agree- “There`s no “I can`t”. There`s just “you haven`t tried hard enough.” So they raised us in constant fear. I was far more often punished for my clumsiness and “disobedience” and for complaining when I felt lonely and overgone than I was ever complimented on how hard I had tried.

School though was mind- numbing, boring, nine- parts- out- of- ten staring out of the window and waiting for others to finish their tasks. While my classmates were supported in their learning, most of my teachers hardly spared me a thought. After all, I wasn`t trouble. I was easily exceeding all their expectations of the shy and small child I was. It didn`t occur to them to help me reach for something more. My elementary school teacher though was demanding, too- she was demanding that I show patience and support for my classmates. Patience for others- she unfortunately didn`t manage to instil that in me at the time. To the contrary, all the experiences of my childhood continued to shape me into someone harder, more resentful of the world and demanding towards myself than I would have liked myself to be.

At some point, my “little sister” overtook me in height, and with us being raised in constant comparison with one another- that was, indeed, a rather big deal. Strangers slowly stopped addressing us as “twins”, often casually referring to me as “the little one”. Neither of us enjoyed it particularly- but only I was left wondering who I was. Yes, who was I? That socially inept, clumsy girl stubbornly refusing to be a pity case, fighting tooth and nail to survive from day to day- And shutting out reality through fleeing into books. Throughout my childhood, I learned fighting and pushing myself to my limits and far beyond. I learned about boosting my confidence by focussing wholly on the strengths I knew I had- because that`s what it took to survive. Somewhere along the way though, I came quite close to losing myself. Precious little of that changed over the next few years.

At 12, I was diagnosed with classic TS. My parents seem to have decided that I needed a few more centimetres of height- without talking to me first, that goes without saying. So I ended up doing three years of Growth Hormone Treatment. TS as an entity was never discussed in my family at all. Only in retrospect did I learn that my mother at least must have struggled immensely with that diagnosis, the health risks, the infertility- but she never allowed herself to express any emotion. And that makes two of us. The shots where the easy part of it, even not physically developing like my classmates was okay- I didn`t fit in anyways. The most significant impact TS had on me came through being out- of- my mind scared before each and every doctor`s appointment. I felt more alone and helpless than I can say- with all the doctors talking to my father over my head. Although I was told about TS, believe me or not- I never even Googled it at the time. I didn`t think that I could face what I might find out. Once again, I was shutting out the world- just like the child I had always been. I never made my health condition a significant part of my identity. On the flip side, keeping quiet only increased the fear. So don`t you ever let yourself be silenced by fear or by shame.

At some point during tenth grade, I finally started reading more on TS, watching videos, listening to podcasts. In record time, I became the expert I knew I had to be- because knowledge gave me a sense of control. And with every new repetition, the information I gathered lost some of its terrifying grip on me.

At some point during eleventh grade, I decided to take driving lessons. Not only do I have terrible visual- spacial perception to start with- I had also been infantilised for the longest time. I had hardly even ridden a bike in actual traffic before. So I tried, fought down the fear, told myself how stupid I was for struggling and for being afraid. I pushed myself to my limits once again- along with my poor driving instructor, who didn`t know what the hell the matter was with me still lacking any concept of the space I was moving through. I cried, a lot. And on the forth try, I finally passed my practical test. It was a hard- earned win, a result of pure, simple stubbornness. And it proved yet another lesson in humility.

With considerable more ease, I won some local Maths and Physics competitions over the years. And in 2021, I passed my A-levels top of my year. Finally, for the first time ever, I was free- and couldn’t quite take it in at first, didn`t quite know what to do with my new- found freedom. Still not one for taking the easy way out, I applied to med school and got accepted.

Now, after almost two years of studying medicine, I can`t even tell you how often I`ve been in awe of the human body and it`s integrate design. Regarding my own TS body though, it and I coexist quite happily most of the time. I appreciate my body for all it can do, and it keeps mercifully quiet. I still define myself by intellect and by character though, and on the surface at least- I still cultivate a reckless disregard for how others might view my body or me- as much as anybody can. Over the last two years, I`ve been pushed to my limits, too- but mostly in new and empowering ways. I`ve learned whole biochemistry books in record time, I have held an actual, human aorta in my hands. I`ve even sat at the bedside of some patients on their darkest days, when I was the only one who could be spared- And I`ve seen first-hand how short this life can be. I`ve realized that I should dream big, because I continue to grow with the goals I set myself.

It seems that I have, finally, started to grow up. How tall someone stands cannot be measured in inches. I have learned how many outsiders, nerds and freaks and there are- and what a beautiful thing it is when a couple of us come together. I`ve learned that most people who seem to have life figured out are in fact struggling with their own, personal demons within. I`m still fighting fear of failure and of not fitting in and losing control, every single day. Slowly, I am gaining ground though, and winning more of the battles than I am losing. After being put through some of the hardest tests life could present you- I am almost surprised to learn that I am not weak, although I may be scarred. So I am learning to celebrate the wins, and to be patient when I lose. Maybe I`ll never feel completely in control- maybe I`ll always feel inadequate when faced with who I am hoping to be- An adult, a decent human being, someone whom you can trust with your life. These are pretty tall orders indeed. I am trying though, and trying my hardest- and that`s enough. It`s a process, of understanding myself so I may be able to understand others, of learning to speak up, and learning to take responsibility.

I`ve given you a lot of who I am- and TS is just some small part of it. So don`t you ever believe yourself less capable or worthy than others because of our diagnosis. I`ve been incredibly lucky in a lot of ways- but not as favoured by fortune in others. So I hope that you can take it from me if I tell you that you should dare to reach for the stars. After all, it`s what I am trying to live.

What I am trying to learn though is patience and feeling and appreciation for all that is imperfect about us. Nietzsche, a German philosopher, once said: “Health is the amount of ailment that leaves me capable of going about my most important business”. He of all people would have known. We are not broken, we are not weak. Don`t you let others keep you small.