My name is Zhou Mingjie Gregory. I borned on the 16th of March 1987 at around 0817hrs at NUH Hospital. It was an forecasted caesarian delivery. Nothing really went wrong except the fact that I decided that at that very young age of a minutes old to decide to stop breathing. How I know that I stop breathing for a moment? No .. it’s because I remember it. But rather, it was etched into my mum memories that I nearly died when I stopped breathing for a moment.
The doctors told her that I had short legs and that it would be great if I come to be of an average height. But after 22 year olds of hoping, praying and trying to grow taller. I’m barely 162cm tall on a good day. Honestly, how often I prayed to be a little taller. Everyone has a cross to carry, I guess this is mine.
Today, i was asked this question, Do you believe in Jesus? The answer is yes…. But probed further do you believe it in Jesus? I find it hard to justify. Day in Day out I ask God to make me a little taller. I’ll do my part to exercise each day. I’ll sprint & jump even if it’s a fool hope to make me a taller. I mean come on… you call girls who are short cute and petite. And guys like this kind of girls. But when a guy is cute and petite. So many times over he is passed over because he doesn’t fit your description of mr right. He doesn’t give me a sense of security and he’s someone who I cannot “literally” look up to. Each time I type a piece like this. I remember the people who ridiculed me and laughed at my shortcomings. But what can I do. I can only suck it up and at the most comment that life’s sucks.
My confirmation name is Raphael. I picked it at first because I want to be like an angel. But I didn’t want to choose Michael which was such a common name. It was only after I was confirmed that I realised that Raphael is not an easy name to live up to. Raphael means “God who Heals” but how can I beliieve in the healing power of god when I consistently feel hurt.
At the beginning of the school year, I went for a retreat. I prayed something that I have prayed for for many years. I prayed for the gift of love. I prayed that someday in the not so distant future, I could find my other hand. Someone who would realise that height is not the measure of a man and behind all the retarded remarks and “cheerful” façade is a person who yearns for love and faith. I really tried to be an open minded person and god told me to trust him.But how can I still trust him after so many years.
I hate drinking alcohol for this reason: that I do like get myself high enough and at the end of day. I feel these moments of clarity mixed with misery that reminds me that I not unhappy with the way things have unfolded in my life. I wished that I had more backbone to stand up for myself. But I simply can’t. I feel like I’m a worthless good for nothing. How can I match someone who is more eloquent, smarter and taller than me. I can’t even be her equal yet alone someone whom she can look up to.
It is an esteem issue. But I guess that despite my nonchalance to the subject. I’m ultimately still affected by the judgement casted.