from Genugtig! Publishers
Image: Lucie Pavlovich

When I fell ill one Friday, my aunt Marjorie and Tittie took me to the white doctor, in the scrunching heat (Wellington is known to reach temperatures of up to 40 degrees). They walked with the sick child in the unbearable heat, only to be reprimanded by an insensitive doctor who they had to argue with – as he was not giving me the proper attention they had hoped for. Apparently he then told them: 'What do you people know. Can't you see she is teething?' And over that weekend I contracted polio.

For my family, the world had collapsed. The white, blonde, little girl whom they so fondly and with such pride showed off to people, was not perfect anymore. The community even accused my mother of being cursed because of her divorce.

Nevertheless, I was flourishing in a house that only gave me unconditional love, though subtly made it clear that I was different. My first steps were with an ugly calliper. And I remember my stylish mother, Tittie, as she mourned: 'Oh what is going to happen to my little girl!' And Ma being stern: 'You must have faith in the Lord, Christiegirl!'

Despite all challenges, we are a jovial lot. Tittie loved to sing and I used to join her. Before long I was entertaining family and friends with my songs. Tittie started to realise that I was gifted. I had a singing talent and that gave me a sense of control and achievement.

So what does one do when your reality becomes what society defines as not normal?

I believe the first step is to face the world through your own eyes and not through the confirmation of others. Affirming yourself is to become a whole person. To be able to love and respect your own reality, callipers, disabilities and all, you have to love and respect yourself first.

For example, I love to laugh really loud and with joy and not take myself too seriously, but for a long, long time I allowed society to make me a lesser person than who I was supposed to be. Society did not understand my laugh. For them this was not the picture that fitted a crippled girl. I was always reminded not to laugh so loud. Today I realise that they envied my laughter and wanted to project their insecurities about themselves onto me.

Read Marlene's full story in the inspiring book Look at me. Women24 readers can buy this book directly from the publishers at a special discounted price of R290.00, simply email vera@genugtig.com to place your order.