Life Sucked for Me When I Was Ten, Just Ask My Thumb

Summary

A woman reflects on her childhood habit of thumb-sucking, its social stigma, and how an incentive to stop led to her passion for writing and music.

Abstract

The author recounts her childhood dependency on thumb-sucking as a source of comfort, which persisted until the age of ten despite her mother's efforts to curb the habit. The narrative shifts when her uncle offers a stereo as a reward for a year of abstinence, leading to mixed feelings about the effectiveness of such incentives in behavior change. However, the stereo introduced her to a love for music and writing, which became instrumental in her life's work. She ponders the transition from thumb-sucking to expressing emotions through words and music, crediting artists like Gordon Lightfoot for inspiring her to tell her own stories. Now a grandmother, she channels her emotions into storytelling rather than reverting to the childhood habit, viewing the exchange of her thumb-sucking for a stereo as a pivotal moment in her journey as a writer.

Opinions

The author initially views thumb-sucking as a natural and effective self-soothing mechanism, akin to skin-to-skin contact for a nursing infant.
She questions the societal shift that labels thumb-sucking as unacceptable at a certain age, highlighting the arbitrary nature of such social norms.
The author is ambivalent about the method used to stop her thumb-sucking, recognizing both the positive outcome of her uncle's incentive and the potential negative implications of using rewards to change behavior.
She acknowledges the lasting impact of the stereo on her life, which fostered a deep appreciation for music and the written word, shaping her career path.
The author suggests that the transition from thumb-sucking to writing as a means of self-expression has been a beneficial evolution, allowing her to connect with others through shared experiences.
Despite the occasional nostalgia for the comfort of thumb-sucking, she prefers her current form of expression through writing, particularly as a role model for her grandchildren.

But not all days were bad.

When I was an infant, I did my parents a favour by finding my thumb. I never asked them to run to me to readjust a rubber soother that fell. My pacifier was ready-made, always handy, and cheap. I suppose, in the beginning, using my thumb met with enthusiasm until the day I was supposed to give it up but refused. After that, my thumb and I attached ourselves in more ways than one. While other kids matured and moved on to alternate self-soothing ways, my thumb remained my go-to until I was ten.

One would think by then, I’d have developed a way to find my sense of calm, but I hadn’t. Instead, years of insecurity created a space for the need of my thumb. Until one day, an additional need surfaced in the form of a stereo. So, the deal was on when my uncle offered to buy me one if I stopped sucking my thumb for a year. It was a win-win situation. I’d get a new sound system for my bedroom while simultaneously getting my parents off my back.

My mother had tried everything. I still remember the taste of bandage as she tried to wrap my thumb, so I’d do without, but that didn’t deter me. So what, I had a soggy digit, and mom met with a cranky kid. She also tried painting my thumbnail with a polish manufactured for this purpose. It tasted so bitter it would turn anyone away. But not me. I was a stubborn child. Not even losing my thumbnail stopped the bad habit.

But here’s the thing. When did something so authentic and acceptable suddenly turn intolerable? And in whose eyes? One day, a thumb is good for sucking, and the next moment my mother is handing me a carrot to replace it. It didn’t work. Nothing works better to soothe than skin-to-skin contact. Just ask any nursing mother.

So, when my uncle offered the bribe, my parents jumped at the chance. But as lovely as my mother’s brother was, was this the best way to teach a child to change behaviour? Which is worse? A preteen engaging in childlike behaviour or coaxing them to perform an action through inducement rather than self-motivation? There’s no doubt my uncle acted in good faith. But have there been ramifications? For example, does this explain why I now offer myself rewards, like food, to push myself instead of finding self-fulfillment?

Perhaps it explains it, but no one should disregard the benefits the stereo brought to my life. At the ripe old age of ten, listening to music nurtured in me a love of words, rhythm, and self-expression. These are the tools I’ve used as a journalist in my early years. Also, as a novice songwriter in my teens, and my current love of writing as a personal essayist. And in 1971, there was no shortage of talented musicians. Many of them were writers in their own right — offering words of wisdom, or a peek into what it was like to share from the heart.

Take Gordon Lightfoot. He is one influencer who encouraged me to scribe stories of my life. He was and still is the perfect storyteller. Drawing on his gift, I began putting my feelings out there. It solved the need to replace my thumb. I no longer needed to bottle up my emotions and plug them with a fleshy cork. Instead, I could release them. As time went on, I made sense of my feelings while putting them out there so others could relate to them. And they still do.

Do I miss my thumb? Absolutely. When I’m sad or lonely, I think about reuniting. But I won’t, even though I’ve heard that many adults do, even high-end executives. But I am now a grandmother with young children who look up to me. So, what do I do when I feel the urge? I write a story. Today, it’s a memoir about the little girl who sold her thumb for a stereo. As I think back on my writing journey, I can honestly say it was one of the best decisions I’ve made.