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I believe I am not my body

Every day, we see images of perfect bodies we can never have, and we become convinced our bodies are who we are. Passing through puberty, into adulthood and now into middle age, I've wasted a lot of time lamenting the size of my hips, the gray in my hair, and the lines in my face. Finally, as I approach my 50s, I believe my parents were right all along: I am not my body.

I was born in 1959, at the tail end of the baby boom. Unfortunately I arrived without all my body parts fully intact. My left arm is a short stub with a small hand and three fingers, reminiscent of a thalidomide defect. To my good fortune, I had superb parents. They were fighters who struck "I can't" from my vocabulary, and replaced it with "I will find a way." They believed the development of the mind, heart and soul determine who you are and who you will become. My body was not to be used as an excuse; instead it was a catalyst.

My body was not neglected, though. It endured surgery; it was dragged to physical therapy, then to swimming, and finally to yoga. But it was not the focus of my life. I was taught to respect my body, but to remember that it was only a vehicle that carried the important things: my brain and soul. Moreover, I was taught that bodies come in all shapes, colors and sizes, and that everyone was struggling in some way with their physical inadequacies. Infomercials have convinced me this must be true, although through adolescence I found it difficult to believe the cheerleading squad had any self-doubts.

In my alternately formed body, I have learned lessons about patience, determination, frustration and success. This body can't play the piano or climb rock walls, but it taught all the neighborhood kids to eat with their feet, a skill it learned in the children's hospital. Eventually it learned to tie shoes, crossed a stage to pick up a college diploma, backpacked through Europe and changed my baby's diapers.

Some people think I am my body and treat me with prejudice or pity. Some are just curious. It took years, but I have learned to ignore the stares and just smile back. My body has taught me to respect my fellow humans — even the thin, able-bodied, beautiful ones.

I am my words, my ideas and my actions. I am filled with love, humor, ambition and intelligence. This I believe: I am your fellow human being and, like you, I am so much more than a body.

人，不仅仅只有躯壳

1.我们经常看见比自己身材好得多的人在周围穿梭，然而我们只能做自己。从孩提时代一直到我的中年这段期间，我浪费了太多时间去哀叹臀部的缺陷，斑白的头发还有脸上明显的皱纹。而在我快要50岁的时候，我终于明白了父母亲曾经讲过的一句话：人，不仅仅只有躯壳。

1959年，我出生在婴儿潮的末期。可不幸的是，我是带着残缺的身体降临在这个世界上的。我的左手上面只有三根手指，并且手臂很短小，这让我想起了 “停缺损”。但是，我有很关心我的父母，他们一直鼓励我，能把我想法中的“我不能”变成“我可以成功”这句话。因为他们相信一个人的思想，心灵和道德的发展决定一个人的价值和命运。我的身体缺陷其实是我成长催化剂，并不是逃避的借口。

我想我的身体是有存在价值的，它能经得住外科手术的煎熬，可以进行物理治疗，然后还可以游泳，练习瑜伽。但是这些都不是我生活的重点，我希望别人能尊重我的身体的同时，记住只有思想和灵魂能够决定我的价值。而且，我要告诉所有人，我们的身体是以各种形态，肤色和尺寸存在的，然而每个人都与他们身体上的某种缺陷进行某种方式的挣扎。我相信商业信息广告关于这条报道的真实性，即使在我青春期的时候我很难相信拉拉队班的人有自我怀疑的时候。

在我身体的成熟期，我经历了忍耐-决心-挫折-成功的过程。我不能弹钢琴，不能攀爬岩石墙，但是教会了所有的邻居小孩用脚吃饭--一个只有在儿童医院学会的技能。最后，我学会了系鞋带，并且越过重重障碍，拿到了大学文凭，背着双肩包穿过欧洲，给我的宝宝换尿布。

有的人以偏见或者怜悯的态度对待我，有的人仅仅是好奇。经过漫长的岁月，我学会了无视这些看法，而且以微笑回答他们。我的身体教会了我要尊重我同胞，不管是瘦的，健全的，或是美丽的人。

我说到做到，我以我的思想和行动来证明。我的内心充满了爱，幽默，抱负和智慧。所以我相信：我和你一样，不仅仅是一个躯壳。

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