My friend was allowed to invite two friends from his sixth grade elementary school class to the Halloween costume party that his big sister, a popular eighth grader, was having the next evening. I was one of the lucky two chosen to accompany my friend to the party. He also chose another little boy from our class. We were short on time, money was tight, and our family was one who loved to create homemade costumes.
I dressed as an elephant. I wore big gray sweats that belonged to my mom. The outfit was completed with a big pink vest. I had a little gray trunk that had an elastic string attached that wrapped around my ears to keep it steadily on my face. My mom made me a headband for my giant gray elephant ears made of felt. I stuffed pillows and clothes under the sweats to make me look bigger. We added gray eye shadow and pink blush to help with the look. I was a really great elephant. To this day I have no idea if this was something I really wanted to be, if I had to guess it was probably imaginatively created out of necessity for a last minute costume. It was a costume I would never forget.
When I arrived at the party, everything stopped. Every single girl was dressed as a super sexy witch, devil, angel, or French maid, and I was an elephant on top of being the only sixth grade girl at the party. I did not have the personality that could pull this off. I was not the girl who could laugh at this and feel okay in my big cotton gray elephant skin and call this intentional. I felt horrible and ashamed. I felt like I had made a colossal mistake dooming me to the outcast experience for the next two years of my life going into Jr. high.
I did the only thing I could do. I went to find my two friends from class. They were jumping on the giant trampoline in the backyard. Taking a breath, I realized this is where I needed to be. This was my only possible refuge. We all jumped and I started to let the embarrassment melt away and have fun. There was a commotion in the house; the bigger kids started watching the movie “Silence of the Lambs.” I popped my head in and knew in my heart I was not supposed to watch this horror movie. I went back outside and continued to jump for a long time shaking off the nerves, the discomfort, and the embarrassment. I felt better, except my little elastic trunk was hurting my cheeks and nose. So I took it off and stuffed it inside one of my pockets.
When it was time to be picked up, I was waiting on the curb. I remember three older, taller, prettier girls with lots of make-up came outside. They scowled at me like only eighth grade girls can, rolled their eyes, and talked about me as if I didn’t exist. One of them said, “Who’s the fat girl with the mouse costume?” I wanted to disappear.
The next year for Halloween my mom made sure I had a “cool” costume, and nobody remembered me as an elephant when I arrived at Jr. high the following year. This experience stayed with me however, and I look back at the lesson and smile at my own sweet, innocent inner child.
I share this to help us all remember that whatever we are wearing on the outside does not define us. I share this to remind us to be comfortable in our own skin and that who we are at the core can’t be shaken or criticized, because we are infinite and divine. We will all at times be judged and criticized, and we’ll create stories of victimhood, and the world won’t see us or understand us the way we want to be seen or understood. It is our responsibility to shine through it, to find our light instead, the sunshine inside, the immunity to the critic. If we want a really strong antidote to the sting of embarrassment, we’ll laugh through these moments with a light heart. Ultimately, our ego is the fat girl in the mouse costume, who’s really an elephant, and didn’t know about the short skirt and fishnet thigh-high party attire requirement, who’s covered in sweaty embarrassment. Our soul, however, is the smiling, playful, loving spirit, jumping on the trampoline, radiating light.
I now consider the elephant to be a totem animal for me. They have been present through many of my biggest lessons and transitions in life. They are supposed to represent ancient inborn wisdom, connection and affection, protection, honor, patience, and strength. My journey back to self-love started again at that Halloween party, and the elephant costume carried me there. That event was a crash landing into the truth of life outside of the connection to the divine. Lessons like this strengthen our character and continue to re-connect us to the truth of who we know ourselves to be. Letting go of what other people see us as, or what they think of us may be a lifelong lesson, but it is one that for me personally has gotten so much easier to move through as I have developed spiritually. I now surround myself with people who love me as unconditionally as any human can, and I cherish the gentle lessons along my path. I embrace my inner elephant with my whole heart.
I love and identify with this story so much! Thank you for sharing!