My nana (CN ableist language)
It was quite a big day for me yesterday (relative's wedding reception) and even though there was a lot of dancing I didn't fall over, knock anyone over, break anything, or anyone... the Gremlins must have been too drunk at the bar to mess up my evening, and for that I'm very grateful!
Something my nan said to me last night really touched me.
But first, we need to backtrack 10-20 years, when I was a kid, both my mum and my nana were constantly telling me off, to sit down, be quiet, stop tapping, be more organised, for-god's-sake-stop-talking-when-people-don't-understand-you-it's-embarrassing... the list goes on. The prefix to any sort of telling off is what I dreaded... “Why Can’t You Just”. They couldn’t understand why I had trouble doing these things. They thought that because I was “so clever at school” that I was choosing to misbehave. The impression I got is that they thought I was selfish, and for a long time I believed them. I would agonise over it.
Why can’t I just be normal, I would cry, my foot flapping all over the place because in my room no one was telling me to stop doing it, and the pressure had been building up all day from suppressing it.
Why can’t I be normal, I would cry, every time someone asked me to tell them about my hobbies and ended up with a screwed up face because I was talking too fast and backwards.
Why can’t I be normal, I would cry with a complete understanding of my work in my head, and only scribbled nonsense and a messy desk to show for it.
I haven’t lived with them for a few years now. I’m 23, I’ve had time to rebuild confidence, to accept and embrace how my dyspraxia shapes my personality, to defiantly ignore the echoes of their voices in my head, to do and say what my instincts tell me.
I was nervous, before the wedding reception, but I finally felt ready to show my family my personality for what it actually is, not the trimmed, tidy, demure little thing they’d tried to preserve from my toddlerhood. And you know what? I f*cking did it and I enjoyed every second. I found common ground with cousins I hadn’t seen in years, I danced like the Tasmanian devil in a hurricane, and was brutally honest about no longer giving a monkeys about being the scholar of the family. They supported me; they were just thankful that I was happy at last.
In the car on the way home my mum had her old Soul and Motown tapes on. I’d had far too much to drink and I was laying across the back seats singing, doing impressions of musical instruments, telling mum and nana what a great night I’d had...
Then my nan turned around in her seat and said in her stop-that-nonsense voice “Anyone ever tell you, you’re a nutcase?”
And I looked her straight in the eye, fully expecting a slap, and said “You two did nana but like you always said I never listen.”
To which she burst out laughing and said...