John

From the age of eight, John began visiting the hospital often. It became his second home. After a challenging diagnosis came an unpredictable duration of treatment, excruciating and wearying. Although young at heart, he experienced many hardships. Stepping into school was like a picnic for him, away from doctors, needles and hospital food. 

At the age of ten, standing at the hospital entrance for the umpteenth time, John waited for his father to bring the car. Unable to comprehend his disease, its etiology and its prognosis, John began to feel downhearted. He spent the most crucial years of development in restricting environments, either his room or the hospital bed, isolated from people his age. 

Due to regular absence, his teachers suggested homeschooling. Although beneficial, staring at the same four walls every day didn’t spark any interest in John. Lacking friends and company, he received love mostly from his parents. On taxing days, he wondered if they loved him unconditionally or out of necessity. 

On one of his rides to the hospital, John’s father bought him a diary. He considered it as his friend, caring for it each night, sharing his problems, filling it with words that sparked in his head. The diary encouraged him to express his emotions, providing him with tranquility in the midst of a never-ending storm. He hoped to one day, transform the monologues into dialogues with a close friend. 

At the age of fourteen, cured of his disease, John went back to his ordinary life. Being a needy child was just as hard for him as it was for his parents. He knew he couldn’t expect the same loving affection as before. Dealing with school and friends all over again felt foreign to him.

From being asked if it hurt to encountering abuses and repeatedly being silenced, times changed. Getting bullied for his poor performance in exams, for spending time alone in the library with his diary, he entered the phase of self-doubt. They said, “Be a man. Don’t be such a weakling, clinging to your emotions.” He wondered if there was more to life than hospitals, failures and bullies. His struggle to hold onto life suddenly seemed worthless, all in vain.

On a quiet Monday morning in Literature class, when John wasn’t feeling his best, he was handed an assignment sheet. It read: “In no less than a thousand words write an essay containing the phrase ‘every snowflake is unique and I am unique because…’ ”

Agitated, he scribbled on the sheet in large font, “Every snowflake is unique and I am unique because I’m constantly sick, either physically or mentally.” He rushed out of class, unable to hold back his tears. 

That night, he surfed the net for his disease and found a support group. Their experiences nudged him to change his perspective on life. “The battles we fight and the scars we carry don’t define us but rather display our courage,” read one of the comments. After reading several positive comments, he felt confident enough to share his story. He began typing. 

That night, before retiring to bed, he opened a fresh page in his diary. Recollecting the phrase, he wrote: “Just as every snowflake is unique, I am unique because of the battles I fought. I will continue expressing my emotions be it tears of agony, joy or sorrow. I’m treated like an outcast because I am unique. I will not change myself just to fit. I will not give up. I am proud of who I am. That’s what makes me unique. I was born to stand out.”