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Saturday, October 10, 2020

Being wrong

When I was a kid, I didn't know I was different than others.

Oh, I knew they hated me. I knew everything about me was wrong. But I didn't know I was different than them. I just thought I was hated. I just thought it was me.

When I was a kid, I didn't know I was different than others.

I knew people didn't take me seriously. I knew people didn't believe me. I knew people didn't treat me like what I was saying was true, when I was just saying basic things about myself. But I thought that was just how it was.

When I was a kid, I didn't know I was disabled.

I grew up around disability. I grew up being told about disability. I grew up writing stories about disability every time I was expected to write any sort of creative writing in school. And I didn't know I was disabled. Nobody told me.

I would be being pulled from class for speech therapy. More and more time trying to fix my speech into what others wanted. Me not understanding why I was there. But I didn't know I was disabled. Nobody told me.

I can't say I wasn't treated like I was disabled though, because I was. Adults talked to each other, around me, about not knowing my labels but knowing there was something wrong with me. I found out about this as an adult. I was forced into multiple forms of therapy. People treated me like I was wrong for being me.

But I didn't know why. And I didn't have words for any of this. And all I had was that people hated me.

I didn't know I was disabled. I didn't even know I was different. All I knew was that I was hated.

If I tell people I didn't know I was different there's assumptions that it didn't hurt me for me to not know.

The people around me knew. The treated me like they knew. I didn't know why they were doing so. Me not knowing didn't protect me from others knowing.

Often when people talk about when do you tell your child about their diagnosis people end up talking about your child already knows they just don't have the words for it. But, there's also, other people know. Not knowing isn't protection from others knowing. Not knowing doesn't keep your child out of abusive therapy. Not knowing doesn't mean your child is treated like everyone else. Not knowing doesn't keep your child safe.

I didn't know I was disabled. I wish others didn't know.

Because other's knew. And that meant I was still treated like I was disabled, even though I didn't have these words for my existance. Even though I wasn't able to find other pepole like me. Even though I didn't know there was any community. Even though I didn't know what there was that could help me.

I still was wrong in the eyes of others, and they still knew that, even if I didn't know why they thought I was wrong.