It’s a quirky fact I used to preface with a nervous chuckle: “When I was six years old, I sang the theme song for the kids’ TV show, ‘Wonder Pets!'”
Yes, that squeaky voice belting out, “Wonder Pets, Wonder Pets, we’re here to help!”? That was me. And no, I wasn’t making it up.
For a kid, voicing a theme song for a popular children’s show should be the ultimate bragging right. But for me, it became a source of unexpected embarrassment and insecurity, especially during the treacherous years of middle school. Imagine the irony – the voice meant to bring joy to countless children became a target for playground taunts and disbelief. Even now, the thought of my college English professor, who confessed to singing along to the “Wonder Pets Theme Song” with her own kids, asking me to perform it in front of the entire class makes me cringe.
The disbelief started in middle school. Sharing my “wonder pets theme song” story, my go-to icebreaker, turned into a nightmare. Classmates scoffed, called me a liar, and accused me of desperately seeking attention. The more I insisted, the more relentless the mockery became. Driven to desperation, I even brought in a royalty check – tangible proof of my claim. Instead of validation, I was met with accusations of forgery. That’s when the vibrant bubble of pride surrounding my childhood achievement burst. My unique, fun fact transformed into a painful secret, something to be buried deep.
Teachers, perhaps bewildered by my insistence and the dramatic reactions it provoked, labeled me as having an “overly active imagination.” Classmates simply branded me an attention-seeking liar. Why couldn’t they believe me? I was the voice behind the “wonder pets theme song.” Why would I invent something so specific, so…me?
The shift came in high school, a surprising turnaround. Suddenly, people started to believe me. Perhaps it was the change in social dynamics, or maybe I projected a different kind of confidence. In middle school, I was undeniably awkward, a bit chubby, and struggled to find my place. I wasn’t part of the “popular” crowd. Maybe my classmates’ disbelief stemmed not from a judgment of my truthfulness, but from a preconceived notion: “Kate? The Wonder Pet singer? No way, she’s too… ordinary.” Or worse, “too weird.”
Determined to rewrite my middle school narrative, I entered high school with a new goal: to be liked. And to my astonishment, it worked. I found my tribe, started dating, and even became part of the coveted “couple goals” in school. In middle school, I was known as the girl to ridicule. In high school, I became someone people wanted to know. So, I cautiously reintroduced my “wonder pets theme song” past. My boyfriend believed me. My new friends believed me. Word spread, and the questions, this time laced with genuine curiosity and sometimes even admiration, resurfaced.
My responses evolved too. “Yes, that was me.” But now, “No, I will not sing it in the middle of class!” A playful, firm boundary. “Please don’t play the song… oh, you found it on YouTube? That’s… great. Please stop that now.” Humor and self-deprecation replaced defensiveness. And yes, the phone was metaphorically ringing – with opportunities for connection and acceptance.
I no longer felt the need to prove myself. I was the girl who sang the “wonder pets theme song,” and it was okay. More than okay – it was cool. The shame that middle school bullies had tried to impose dissolved. My fun fact, once buried, was now celebrated. I was proud to have been a Wonder Pet, proud to have contributed to the joyful childhoods of so many. For a while, I had allowed the negativity to eclipse the joy of this experience. But in high school, and now in college, I reclaimed it. It became my go-to icebreaker once again, a conversation starter, a unique piece of my identity. I even jokingly lip-sync the song for friends, embracing the silliness and the nostalgia. The fear of judgment, of being labeled a liar or an attention seeker, vanished. My “wonder pets theme song” past is not something to hide; it’s an integral part of who I am. The bullies almost succeeded in stealing it from me, but never again.
The core lesson from this journey? If you have something you love about yourself, something that makes you you, don’t let anyone dim your light. Don’t hide the things that spark joy within you, even if others try to belittle them. Are you a girl who’s passionate about coding? Own it! Do your friends gravitate towards sports while your heart belongs to the show choir? Belt out those tunes! Don’t dilute your essence to fit someone else’s narrow expectations. Don’t let anyone steal what makes you uniquely amazing. I did, for a while. But take it from someone who knows a thing or two about answering calls for help – a former Wonder Pet – the phone is ringing. Pick it up. Answer the call to be yourself, unapologetically. Tell whoever’s on the other line – be it your inner critic or external naysayers – that your worth is not defined by their opinions. Pursue what you love. Be extraordinary, regardless of what anyone else thinks. Don’t conceal the incredible parts of yourself. Let them shine.
