Social Rejection

 This week, I have felt an overwhelming amount of sorrow. I cannot identify an exact trigger that has caused me to feel this way, but I cannot ignore it. I don't know if this is the start of episodic depression or if it's my subconscious is filtering into my conscious, and my fears and insecurities are sipping through. That annoying, horrific voice is taunting me, and I am doing my best to silence it. After introspecting, I realized that Brianna Solari's story affected me more than I initially realized. 

I strive to live and redefine society's beauty standards, but I am struggling. I surround myself with incredible souls who love and support me unconditionally and always uplift me. With them, my mind is quiet, but when I am forced to be with my thoughts, my fears and insecurities creep up. I first learned of Brianna Solari on Instagram. I quickly read her story, making a mental note to read further, wanting to get the full story instead of an excerpt. Yesterday, I did, and I made my own post on Instagram. Why, I do not know? I have no idea how my anger and complaints against Southwest will make a difference. My voice is not loud enough. All I can do is share her story in the hopes that it will not be forgotten and that no one else with NF or any other physical difference has to experience discrimination and humiliation like that again. 

I understand the fear of communicable diseases, especially after COVID-19. However, that does not give anyone permission to discriminate and spew hatred because someone's physical appearance makes them uncomfortable. On the day of Brianna's flight, she stood precautions, wearing a headband and a mask, effectively covering most of the scabs on her face. The scabs were the result of surgery she had the day before to treat her NF. Now, if the scabs were wet or secreting puss, I would understand Southwest taking precautions. However, Brianna is a nurse, so she would know better. Also, her doctors would not sign off for her to go home if she was not healing according to plan. 

Yes, Southwest did not handle this well, but I assure everyone that this happened because one passenger complained and threatened with something; the crew member did not see another resolution other than escorting Brianna off the fight. Brianna was booked on a flight five hours later, but not before having to disclose her medical condition and her surgeon providing a letter confirming that she was healthy and did not pose harm to anyone. All of this could have been prevented if the flight crew had agreed to read over Brianna's discharge papers, but they refused, insisting that she needed to be seen by EMS. Per the various articles and news stories I have seen over the last 24 hours, she was not checked by EMS at the airport. 

I know some may think or say that I am obsessing over this incident, but I do not think so because this could be me, my mom, anyone in the NF community, or anyone with a facial difference, and that makes me angry and hurt. 

I hope Brianna knows she is not alone and has a sister in me. I wish I could give her a huge hug and validate all her feelings. 

So, this week, I am filled with sadness. I'll bounce back, as I always do. 

The Eye Test

 I've been failing my self-administered eye test. A few weeks back, my friend Chantal took me out for my birthday. Our first stop was CW's Gin Joint, followed by Hotel Bar. When we walked into Hotel Bar, we found two empty stools by the bar and planted ourselves there. We casually started talking to the mixologist and another patron. After getting our drinks, we casually continued speaking, but I suddenly turned my attention to a conversation that was being held by the mixologist and with a gentleman I later learned was named Alex. After a few short minutes of back and forth, the bartender exited the conversation to attend to new customers, but Alex and I continued speaking. 

CW Gin Joint

He looked at me and said, " You know, I know you." I was taken aback as he shared that he attended USF's This is My Brave; his friend and fellow member of This is My Brave 2024, Ciara, invited him. I was in awe as he went on to say that as soon as he walked into Hotel Bar and saw me, he wanted to talk to me and thank me for sharing my story. He urged me to continue sharing it because others needed to hear it. He went on to say that my face was the first one he saw on the show's playbill and that he was intrigued but in awe after he heard me speak. It was during this conversation that I learned about the eye test that atheists are put through. 

I have to admit, I've been revisiting our conversation on and off since that night. Not because he showered me with compliments but because he taught me a huge lesson. Since 2022, I've simply been making quick decisions and judgment calls based on my current state. I have been dismissive of all the collective attributes that I possess and instead have been telling myself I am not worthy. 

Honestly, the negative talk has been excessive. The saddest part is that I am so good at it that it catches me off guard at times. Even though I have actively worked on correcting the negative talk this year, since my conversation with Alex, I've been more conscientious about my internal conversations. Yes, my body is different, and for the better part of a year and a half, my body was rejecting a foreign
object that was supposed to keep me safe. I was on two strong antibiotics, and I was underweight, depressed, and anxious all the time. I was not okay. 

Today, I am better. I am not 100% sure, and that is okay because I am aware that every day brings its own challenges and, more importantly, rewards. My new goal for this 37th year of life is to pass my own eye test.

This is My Brave: I Dare You

 On Friday, April 5th, I participated in USF's This is My Brave College experience. I stood on stage, vulnerable and naked ( figuratively), and spoke my truth. I performed an original poem titled, I Dare You. I was inspired by the events after an influencer "blessed" me with cash. I used the cruel words from strangers as a tool to write this piece. 

Below is my poem, enjoy. I will share the link to the performance as soon as it is available. 

Look at me.

Go ahead; I give you permission.

I’ll stand still.

Quiet

Look at me. 

Go ahead; I give you permission.

You can laugh

You can point

Look at me!

Go ahead; I give you permission.

Call me names.

I've heard them all:

You’re an abomination 

You’re fu-gly 

You’re a monster

You’re a mutant

You’re ugly

I said, 

Look at me!

Go ahead; I give you permission. 

Look at my droopy face.

Look at my protruding right eye, 

It’s a prosthetic 

Look at my scars.

You done? 

Now, See me.

Go ahead; I dare you.

Do you see me?

The woman, standing before you?

Here I am, despite you,

I am not afraid.

I am Standing tall.

Outspoken. 

Unbroken,

Brave.

See me.

I dare you.

Social Media-ing with NF

 I have been contemplating sharing this experience because I felt ashamed for being such a fool and was angry at myself because I fell victim to a wanna-be influencer on Instagram. While I never intended to talk about it, NF has gotten in the way, so I will be vulnerable and share. 

The day before Thanksgiving, I was walking into my local grocery store when a man approached me. I noticed him and his companions a few feet away as I exited the car. The man, let's call him LeFou, still walking behind me, asked me if I wanted a blessing; I turned around, and he again asked if I wanted a blessing. I thought he would say a prayer because, in the past, this has been my experience. Suddenly, one of his companions got right before us while the other two popped confetti canons as LeFou blessed me with cash. In the video, I am in complete shock. I took this cash and am ashamed and angry for doing so. I still have the money; I feel dirty for having it and do not know what to do with it. The whole interaction took at most 30 seconds. In hindsight, I should have said no. I should have given him the money and asked him to delete the video, but I didn't because, at that instant, I did not consider the events that would follow. 

For those 30 seconds, I forgot all about NF and my facial difference. I know perfectly well that if I did not have a facial difference, this post would not need to be written, but alas, NF...

Two weeks later, my little sister sent me a message on Instagram and asked me about a confetti shooting video I was in and a man giving me cash. Ironically, she was not talking about the video that LeFou made but one that another Instagram influencer did; we shall call him Timon. Timon has made his mark in the world of social media by making satire and commenting on videos like the ones LeFou makes. Timon claims I was "hired" because he knew Lefou would profit from the video. Timon also argued that LeFou was not being genuine with his actions. My little sister, being her incredible self, reached out to Timon and cleared up a few things about me and what had occurred in the video. Her interaction with Timon led to Timon and I communicating on Instagram. 

So, now I am not on one but two reels on Instagram. Both platforms have well over 500k followers, and although the intentions of both reels are different, the outcome is the same: me. I have become the punch bag for awful and hurtful comments. Both platforms have put me on center stage and left me there for their audiences to do as they please. After speaking with Timon, I asked him to give me LeFou's Instagram, and I regretfully decided to view the clip. I was disgusted at the clip's presentation, but even more so at the comments, people made. I've read comments on both platforms, and Timon's followers are not as ruthless; if anything, the comments are more geared towards LeFou and how distasteful and disingenuous he is than on my physical appearance. Also, Timon has responded to a few of his followers and "defended" me.

After talking with Timon, I messaged LeFou, hoping he and I could clarify a few things about the video and his followers' comments. It has been almost three weeks since I sent him a message and crickets. This, unfortunately, proves Timon's point that all LeFou cares about are views, likes, and comments, even if they are at my expense. The vast majority of comments on LeFou's platform are beyond disrespectful. Seeing the GIFFs and others laughing at them hurt me to the core. I do not understand how someone who is "blessing" people allows followers to leave comments filled with hate. LeFou is not a kind human being; his blatant disregard for my message and inability to stop cyberbullying only prove that he cares about himself and not the people that he claims to be "blessing."

After feeling like I lost a bit of myself due to social media and the desire to gain views and likes, I decided to take control of the narrative as much as possible and commented on both videos. I first commented on Timon's platform, not expecting much but hoping that my comment would not backfire; it didn't because I have received likes, comments, and followers.

Yesterday, 01/05/2024, I decided to view the comments on LeFou's video; I think that subconsciously, I knew that I needed to see the painful words to snap and comment. To take back control, so that is what I did. Surprisingly, I've received likes, comments, and a few followers as well. 

I do not know what is to come due to these two clips that are now forever part of the social media realm, but I know that I am more determined than ever to spread my message of acceptance, tolerance, and love for all. People need to realize that words hurt. Words have the potential to cause irreparable damage. I know this because I still have vivid flashbacks from middle school, and I am an adult woman in her 30s.