This year, we’ve travelled around Australia to run Embrace Kids Live events, empowering young people to embrace and celebrate their bodies. Throughout the event series, Bonnie Ryan-Rowe of Youth Leadership Academy Australia shared an inspiring keynote with our attendees. Here is her story…
When I was 6, I had one dream. I wanted to be a performer. It didn’t matter what type of performance, I just knew that’s what I wanted to do. I wanted to be a ballerina. I used to put my bright red tutu on and dance in front of my huge mirrors at home, in front of anyone and everyone who would watch. I wanted to be an actor, I wanted to be on television, on a huge stage, a Hollywood super star that everyone watched. I would dress up and pretend I was on set with other fabulous actors, a high end movie and I was the lead. A singer, maybe even a member of a circus troupe, I wanted to do it all. The costumes, the dressing up, the fun. The dreams I had. I believed I was amazing, fantastic, and incredible.
When I was 12, that one dream disappeared. Everywhere I went and everywhere I looked – TV, magazines, the news, posters, books, movies, even comments my family and friends made about my body – the same message followed me. It would sneak up behind me, tap me on my shoulder, jump out in front of me and follow me around like a shadow. This message was always the same; my body was not enough. I no longer wanted to be a ballerina. I was told that ballerinas had to have long arms and long legs, but not too long otherwise you would be too tall. I was told they had to be skinny, otherwise you would not be graceful enough for the stage. I was told you have to be elegant, not clumsy. My body didn’t match that image so I stopped dancing and packed my red tutu away. I no longer wanted to be an actor. I was told that actors need to have beautiful smooth hair – not curly or frizzy like mine was. They had to have pretty skin, no acne like I had. I had a gap tooth growing up, but actors’ teeth had to be perfect, straight, no braces. So the costumes went into a box, and the fun I had went in with them too. I no longer believed that I was amazing, fantastic or incredible.
In grade 5, I moved schools and people at my new school were really different. My other classmates were so focused on what they looked like, and they were so focused on what other people looked like. Judging people on their body shape, hair colour, how tall or short you were, if your legs had hair or no hair, if your face had hair or no hair. Wax this, pluck that, look like this, never look like that, wear this, don’t wear that and throwing around really harmful phrases like ‘too fat’ and ‘too thin’. I was told that my curly hair looked like a bird’s nest, that my pimples were ugly, that I had too much hair on my legs and that I needed to shave them and that I looked more like a boy than a girl. I wasn’t the picture perfect ballerina or the sensationally stunning actor that 6 year old me once dreamed to be. All of a sudden, I became like the other people at my school, focused on what I looked like, and judging other people on what they looked like. And this was just the beginning – the beginning of how poorly I treated myself and others. How I based my opinions of others on what they looked like, and based my self worth on what I looked like. Because that was the message I got and that was the message I chose to keep giving.
When I was 17, I was lucky. I rediscovered my dream and I became a theater kid. Within the walls of the Performing Arts building, I had fun, I played, I dressed up and ultimately, I started showing up as myself again. This led me to finding my place of belonging. A place with people who celebrated diversity, with people that saw beyond my physical appearance and physical abilities, a place where I didn’t feel like I had to change who I was. I started to become more kind to others, and just as importantly, more kind to myself. Being myself was empowering and way more fun. I felt like I could then create a space where others could be themselves where they too would feel empowered. Instead of ‘you look pretty today’, it was ‘you bring me happiness’. Instead of ‘you have too much hair’, it was ‘you worked really hard on that, and it shows’. Instead of ‘you’re not strong enough, you can’t do that’, it was ‘let’s try it again.’ I was once again amazing, fantastic and incredible.
What I learned throughout my journey was that everyone has a place of belonging, and something everyone needs to understand is that if anyone asks you to change who you are, then you are not surrounded by uplifting people. We want to surround ourselves with people who will lift us up, not tear us down.
We should celebrate who we truly are and not be afraid to show it. How we look doesn’t determine our strengths nor does it determine our power. We have the ability to create change and make a lasting impact within ourselves and those around us. There are things I said about myself and about other people when I was feeling insecure as that 12 year old girl. Words have a lasting impact on us and the people around us, but we have a choice. Is that lasting impact going to tear people down or build people up? How can we talk about ourselves more kindly? How can we talk about others more kindly? How can we model to everyone around us that how we look won’t be what changes the world, but rather who we are, our actions and how we treat ourselves? You could be that person that helps others feel like they belong. Lets see ourselves and others for more than just physical appearances – let’s reshape how we see human bodies and start seeing the other amazing, fantastic and incredible qualities that everyone has.
