While growing up with my cleft lip and palate, I was supported by loving friends and family. Yet sometimes this just wasn’t enough. I had some days filled with many negative thoughts about my appearance and my cleft, where I'd isolate myself from any positivity and (quite frankly) rational truth.
As I grew up, I learned more about myself and the way I handled living with a cleft. I learned that I could have rational and irrational thoughts about my differences. However, being able to distinguish these ideas didn’t necessarily mean I could stop irrational thoughts from upsetting me. This just meant I could cope with them better since I was able to see them as irrational rather than true.
Why are they looking at me?
One of my biggest irrational thoughts was the slight paranoia that when someone took a double glance in my direction it was because of my cleft. Now this was a constant problem that I learned to overcome through rationalising and accepting the other person’s behaviour. If I felt they were looking because of my cleft, I told myself not to be ashamed. In this instance, they were curious as to why I looked different and weren’t intentionally making me self-conscious. I might stare back at the person if at the time I had the confidence to do so. This would help make them aware that staring at someone isn’t the best way of dealing with difference. However, these thoughts could become irrational when I applied them to every case of someone doing a double take. It's very unlikely that every stranger had even noticed my cleft, although it was hard for me to see it that way. Therefore, as I started to realise the irrationality of this belief, I would correct the negative thoughts with positivity. I'd consider the idea that person liked my shoes/dress/hair, or wanted to see how many books I’d checked out of the library for example. They were looking for reasons that had nothing to do with my appearance. This helped me turn my irrationally negative assumption into a positive unspoken compliment.
The dance
Year 10, an out-of-school dance, fit boys and a group of giggling friends. This should have been a thrilling and exciting night… and it was. What I wasn’t ready for was what happened the next day. I had left half an hour before my friends because my dad was picking me up. However, in that half an hour I wasn’t there, the rest of my friends were asked to dance by the group of boys that we’d been giggling about all night. Obviously I didn’t get a look in… because I wasn’t there. Yet the next day I got it into my head that if I had been there I wouldn’t have been asked to dance anyway because of my cleft.
Now this was a totally irrational thought, but I still cried about it, to the extent that my teacher rang home because she was so worried about me. Sometimes it’s hard to see it’s not personal (or what we’re thinking has no foundations in reality). That doesn’t mean though that something can’t hurt and that you don’t deserve support in realising sometimes things happen just because they do.
Why be my friend?
This is probably one of the worst psychological effects that I experienced. This is one that I've only recently been able to appreciate the full extent of.
I can still remember that (on my darker days) I thought new people wouldn’t want to talk to me because of the way I looked. I remember feeling so trapped and frustrated that I wanted people to see ‘me’ without my complicated exterior. I was terrified my looks would hold me back.
When someone did decide to get to know me, I somehow saw it as some sort of extra kindness. Now, looking back, I can see how ludicrous and irrational this was. As friends, the way you look/medical difficulties shouldn’t be (and of course isn’t) what binds you together.
A question can just be a question
Being increasingly aware of irrational thoughts really helped as I got older and started new chapters in my life. I can remember being nine years old and being asked about my cleft in the middle of the playground. I had no idea what to say and worried everyone was suddenly staring at me. I felt incredibly self-conscious. However, I realised that this started a very irrational thought process. After only being asked a question once, I learned to assume everyone would single me out because of my difference and were wondering the same thing. Realising this is quite irrational and that other won't be thinking the same thing really helped me when years later I was asked a similar question. This time, I'd just started university. I was at a party and a new friend of mine asked me why my nose looked different. At first I was a bit taken aback and I put up my guard slightly, since I’d barely thought about my cleft since starting uni. The girl who asked had done so very politely and had made it clear that if I didn’t want to talk about it, there was no pressure to.
On one hand, I considered the idea that all of my new friends had noticed my difference and were probably wondering what was ‘wrong’ with me. On the other, I could see that that would be irrational and that this girl was merely curious. We had already got to know each other a little and I knew (in my right mind) that she was just curious. I told her there and then about my cleft. She listened attentively and we soon moved on to bigger topics of conversation.
Although she’d highlighted my difference, I could see it would be irrational to suddenly feel isolated. This was especially important since it was a new social situation where I'd already been accepted for myself and made lots of new friends. It would have been a shame to let an irrational thought ruin that.
Ultimately, learning when you might be vulnerable to having irrational thoughts is a great way to overcoming them. In the moment, a belief is far easier to fight if you know it doesn’t make rational sense. Trying to keep a clear head can be tough, but learning to see things rationally can help you see the world as it really is.