Their Story Their Voice
Their Story Their Voice
To the First to Love Me
This episode centres around a letter written to my mum, including reflections on neurodiversity, acts of kindness, and personal growth.
Music by:
(Neffex - A year ago)
(Neffex - dont want to let myself go)
Hi, hi, hi. Welcome to another episode of Their Story, Their Voice. Mini episode. I wrote this letter to my mum, who, if you're a regular listener or you've listened to previous episodes about diabetes, which I believe was the episode I did for my mum and for people who have diabetes, so I will start. So I write this letter to her because today is her anniversary, and it's just mainly a reminder of how important it is to understand ourselves, to understand ourselves and the ones that we love. I also just wanted to add, if anyone listening is exploring neurodiversity, I mention that because it is relevant. Well, it's relevant to me. Because I am, and I know that I'd like people to know that it's never too late to learn and to grow. Moving on to the actual letter slash episode. This episode is an act of kindness, really to myself, Acts of kindness are not always external. Sometimes, It's beneficial to turn that kindness inwards because that can be just as powerful because we're still growing. It doesn't matter how old you are, you are still growing, still trying to be whatever version of you that you want to put out there. And maybe accepting that whatever version you're putting out there, actually it's okay. You don't have to be perfect. You don't have to be what everyone else says you are. You can just be you. So, I will not go off on any more tangents. So I'm going to just read this as I would as I wrote it because I wrote it for her so I'm just going to read it as I wrote it. I am beyond grateful that you made sure I had food, a roof over my head and your love. When you left I thought, and sometimes I still do, that no one will ever love me in the way that you did. You honoured and celebrated who I was, and I'm forever grateful for that. You taught me to be fearless, and you always saw the kindness in everything that I did. Now that I'm a couple of years older than you were when you had me, I honour that you did your best with what you had. And yet, as I grow, I navigate a world that I can't. That can be so unkind. I sometimes wonder about the choices you made. Like when the teacher told you I needed extra help at school because I was struggling to pay attention. What made you dismiss that? I understand now that you didn't have the resources or the awareness that we have today and I know you did your best. One of my friends asked if I'd ever considered getting tested for ADHD. At first I dismissed the idea, but it kept coming up. I spoke to my brother, your son, and when I said to him, I think you might have ADHD, he responded with, I know, yes I do, and so do you. I've always been an advocate for those who struggle. When someone tells me they're neurodiverse, I celebrate them and the way their brain works differently. But when it came to me, I didn't celebrate it. I saw it as an, oh, moment. And then I started spiralling. Why didn't I know? Is it true? And then I started asking people close to me, and it turned out this wasn't actually a surprise to anyone. And when I went to see the doctor, and I said to her, she asked, she said, well, what do people around you say? And I said, it's almost as if there was a party, which everyone was invited to a party for me, that everyone was invited to. But no one, no one invited me. So I didn't get the memo. just didn't get the memo. I spoke to a guest on this podcast named Adva and for the first time I listened back to that episode and then I cried and I asked her at the time, is this just a label used for children that parents and teachers struggle with? Reflecting on that now, I realised that's the message I grew up with and that wasn't right. I was told I talked too much. I was lazy. Blah blah blah blah. But it never occurred to me, or you, that wasn't the case. I reflected on every version of myself through the years and grieved for them, wondering if their lives might have been easier had they have known. Please don't think I see neurodivergent people as less. I love and celebrate the incredible people I know who are, but I wonder. Do they ever think about what life might have been like if every day wasn't such a struggle in their head? I believe the correct terminology is neurotypical. As your anniversary and the holiday season approaches, I'll reflect on all the things you did bring me. My brother. Your son put it in the best way. He lived your life as if it were one big party, and while people had their opinions on that, It was your life, and it was meant to be lived, and I agreed with him. You did, you literally lived like everything was a big party, and I love that. I wish you were here to guide me through these moments of discovery, to remind me of the fearless child you love so much. But as I continue to learn about myself, I honour you. I honour you by doing what you always did for me, celebrating who I am and learning to see the kindness in everything, even myself. So as I'm finishing, this is a message to people listening. As the holiday season draws near, I just want to remind everyone that you never know what's around the corner. So ask those questions, ask the people you love and care for those questions. Get to know them a bit more whilst you still can. Honour and love them because nothing lasts forever. And then here we go. be kind to others. and most importantly, Be kind to yourself
