I am more myself than I ever have been

Since I last wrote to you, it feels like I've been gifted with a lot of good, and it also feels important to record that somewhere — so here goes. 

Let me start by paraphrasing something I said in therapy this week: 

“It feels like I've arrived. I am now the person I am meant to be. There used to be all these vines wrapped around me, confining me into the person I was expected to be. And now they're gone." 

How did I get here, you might be wondering? 

I think a big part of it comes down to Seated Perspectives, the advocacy work I'm doing there, and the community I've found there. And yes, I do realize that it's just a social media account — and how much can we really grow and evolve in the weird little world of social media — but I believe it has helped unlock something for me. 

It has helped me craft and shape a voice that's becoming an intrinsic part to who I am. It's a voice I'm not just using for advocacy, but also to articulate my needs and invite people into my world so that we can keep building community. 

 Using this new version of my voice has been so rewarding already. In my choir community, for example, I shared my needs in more depth than I ever have, and it led to a beautiful, heartwarming exchange. (I shared about this in more detail on Instagram last week.)

I'm also starting to actively see how my content is reaching and being received bt others. When I started Seated Perspectives, I set out to fill a gap. I wanted to create all the content and resources and connections I never had as a disabled teen and woman. I wanted to reach other people who might need the content and advocacy I never encountered. 

 And it's happening! 

I got this message from one of my followers yesterday: 

So, what does this all have to do with the broader disabled experience? I'd wager that a lot.

In order to live in a world that isn't fully accessible to them, disabled people are often asked (forced) to compromise so much of themselves in order to fit in. For me, this translated into downplaying my needs, keeping my voice down and my opinions to myself to not draw attention to ourselves, and gaslighting the hell out of myself whenever someone said something inappropriate or ableist to me.

I did this for years — and as I did, I chipped away at important parts of myself. I kept them hidden (from myself and from others) and crafted a version of myself that was palatable to the people around me.

This. This is what I'm done with. And there's so much freedom in acknowledging that. It's giving me a spark of energy that feels new and exciting.

I feel emboldened. I want to do what I can to help open the door for other disabled people to feel the same.

I hope that I can.

Thanks for reading, everyone!

Before I sign off, voting for the Canva Community Award is still open! If you haven't yet, I'd love if you could take a few minutes to vote.