I will not apologize for being me…

Pain is a powerful deterrent. The emotional pain of seeing every adult look over at me with patronizing expressions and knowing nods because, once again, I was doing something that was normal to me and odd to everyone else. The physical pain after school when my classmates ran after me or chased me down on bikes because I was an easy target since I stood out. The humiliation of being ostracized repeatedly because no one else wanted to be tarnished by my presence.

So I shrunk myself small and hid myself close in an attempt to fit… and was still seen as odd.

I married the first person to date me. Years of thinking no one would ever want to date someone as weird asΒ me turned into worries that this would be my only chance at marriage and children. Which is so not a good base for a relationship. Then I had kids and worried that my weirdness would hold them back from making friends. If the parents thought I was too weird, would their children be allowed to come over? And I shrunk even more.

Then came work. I needed a job to raise the kids and needed not to stand out, so I put on the most normal mask I could make and tried to be quiet but productive. I tried my hardest and hid until I could no longer find myself. And I never really noticed. It took a year before I noticed I’d lost interest in reading. Me, who read a book a day for years. I spent a year and a half without writing. I’ve been known to write for 12 hours at a time and carried a notebook and pen with me.

I never noticed when my shrinking turned into apologizing for everything that I did oddly, until I was apologizing for my mere existence. For using the air the more normal people needed to breathe.

I never really noticed until I found myself standing on the ledge to my balcony pondering how long it would take to fall and how quickly the pain would stop. My mask broke then and it’s never going back on again.

I will not apologize for loving bright colours and glitter
I will not apologize for loving stuffed animals and butterflies and rainbows
I will not apologize for hand flapping
I will not apologize for squeeing when I’m happy
I will not apologize for singing (yes, even in the grocery store)
I will not apologize for caring
I will not apologize for my thoughts being a step off from expectations

If I continue to apologize for being born autistic in a neurotypical world what am I teaching my autistic offspring? I’ve told my kids for years that, as long as I pay my bills, it doesn’t matter how weird I act. It’s time for me to believe that. My life depends on me believing that.

hand drawn daisy

I drew this at the hospital. The perspective’s not the best but I also haven’t drawn anything in twenty-five years.

So I’m reconnecting with myself. Writing poetry, reading, scrapbooking, sketching, and editing my novel. I’m singing again. To Jeremy, to the cats, and most of all to me.

Tomorrow I have errands to run, appointments to attend, and a cake to decorate. Then Jeremy and I are joining my parents for a family camping trip. I’m going to be 100% myself, even in front of the rest of the family. It will be fabulous!

don't shrink yourself

 

Advertisements

14 thoughts on “I will not apologize for being me…

  1. Michelle, you inspire people all over the globe (and particularly me, over here in Australia). Don’t forget that – and please, keep on being you and keep on writing about Jeremy. It’s more wonderful than you’ll probably ever know.

  2. Amen! I’m not autistic myself, but this is very inspirational. No one should ever be told that they can’t be themselves, even if other people don’t approve of it. Since when is there really a ‘normal’, anyway? Everyone is unique and special and shouldn’t have to conform to any mode of normalcy.

  3. It can be very empowering to learn to celebrate our eccentricities and uniqueness! Good for you! And keep writing. You are very good at it!

  4. I want you to fall – fall in love with yourself, tumble into your scrapbooking and glitter and butterflies, dive into your art, plunge into your singing and flapping and squeeing and caring.

    And I pledge to go with you, for if we all stand on the sidelines and say, yes! bravo!, but do not go with you, we are still conveying a quiet judgment. So let us all show our love for Michelle with a little more squeeing, flapping, glitter, stuffies, and laughter. 🐚

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s