slfcare

♡ things about people's bodies that i admire (as someone with a physical disability who cannot relate) ⌁ the way you take your steps so easily. you want to go somewhere and you lift your foot and put it down and move without too much thought or being Overly Aware of how to do it? that's so cool

⌁ when you move not just individual fingers but bend them a certain way. how fluid your movements are. also how much control you have. you're telling me you pick up a plastic cup like no problem and you never accidentally squeeze or put too much pressure?

⌁ typing with ten fingers. again, hello???? you can move ALL of them individually like that? and so fast? huh?????

⌁ rushing down stairs is insane to me because you just keep your balance and also watch your step and also move your legs that fast

⌁ nothing is impossible. you button the world's smallest buttons. then you walk to a cafe and order something in a full cup and carry it to a table without spilling, then you write on paper with a pen for more than 3 seconds at a time and the strokes come out exactly as you intend and that’s a regular day for you!!

⌁ you speak to people and have no problems with the muscles in and around your lips. you probably don’t even think about them. they don’t pull to the side or jerk when you pronounce your vowels – they’re as fluid as your fingers (amazing) and people take your words seriously because of this

you have a lot to appreciate, just as I have a lot to admire in you ♡

after it has been new, scary and uncomfortable, it’s going to be okay. isn’t that what we’re doing it for?

When I was younger, I was in love with the idea of moving out to a lone island and never speaking to anyone again. I wasn’t good at talking, physically, nor did conversations come easy to me, so I kept quiet and I was totally fine with that. But while the people closest to me rolled their eyes at my wishes (again, lone island), nobody told me how talking to people was fun. Nobody told me how nice of a feeling it was to feel a new friendship blossom, to have inside jokes with people, to hand out compliments and get them back, to ask questions to people who are excited about having the answers, to remember something that someone mentioned last time and make them feel heard, to flatter people, to share slightly embarrassing facts and be able to laugh about them, to have people to say hi and bye to. It took me years and years and years to gather the courage to speak, but it was so worth it. It’s so much fun.

Last Friday I was at my workplace’s internship booth for a city-wide event where tons of creative agencies opened their doors to anyone interested. If you told me four years ago that I’d stand there all night, calming down nervous students and older people hoping to get into tech with my (slightly embarrassing) anecdotes and full-fledged conversations, I wouldn’t have believed you and probably gotten sick at the idea.

Speaking is physically still a challenge to me, as it always will be, but I also know that language is one of the single most important and valuable tools at our disposal. You don’t have to be the loudest person in the room, but the fact that you have the ability to carve out a little crevice for you and someone else by ‘just’ opening your mouth and offering up a sliver of your thoughts is a major privilege. I’m still learning, but the more I do, the more magical communicating truly starts to feel, and the luckier I feel for having the right and freedom to use my voice – no matter how clumsily.

the very first step of getting over your fears is to have them. just like the first step to getting better is being worse than you wish you were, and the first step to becoming who you want to be is being who you are. don’t let your shame back you into a corner. you can only grow from here.

I’ve started chanting “I’m so safe, it’s kinda strange” to myself when I’m in scary situations, like having to cross a busy intersection on my bike or walking home in the dark, because leaving it at “I’m safe” never quite worked for me (and this almost rhymes, so I don’t forget). I’m so safe that anyone who knew just how safe I am would think it’s strange. And I’m so safe that it’s a little unbelievable! And I’m so safe that filmmakers would fight over who’d get to make a documentary on just how safe I am. If you tend to get afraid of these types of things easily, maybe this little chant could help you, too. You’re so safe, it’s kinda strange.

When I was younger, I was in love with the idea of moving out to a lone island and never speaking to anyone again. I wasn’t good at talking, physically, nor did conversations come easy to me, so I kept quiet and I was totally fine with that. But while the people closest to me rolled their eyes at my wishes (again, lone island), nobody told me how talking to people was fun. Nobody told me how nice of a feeling it was to feel a new friendship blossom, to have inside jokes with people, to hand out compliments and get them back, to ask questions to people who are excited about having the answers, to remember something that someone mentioned last time and make them feel heard, to flatter people, to share slightly embarrassing facts and be able to laugh about them, to have people to say hi and bye to. It took me years and years and years to gather the courage to speak, but it was so worth it. It’s so much fun.

deep down, you know how you want to be treated. how you want to be loved, respected, listened to and considered. but since that’s all inside of you, you cannot expect others to advocate for you in that area or to read your mind. if you feel like your needs aren’t being recognized, practice communicating them. if you feel like your needs aren’t being met, practice advocating for them. and if you feel like your needs aren’t being respected, it’s not the environment or relationship for you.

seeing my 'failures' as redirections has brought me so much peace about the things I thought I 'missed out on' in life. sometimes, you just don't know what you're being protected from—or what you're being set up for—until you can look back from a new vantage point. all you can do is trust that clarity will come when the time is right. and it will.

the very first step of getting over your fears is to have them. just like the first step to getting better is being worse than you wish you were, and the first step to becoming who you want to be is being who you are. don’t let your shame back you into a corner. you can only grow from here.

look at life as less of a race and more of a stroll. you get to set the pace. you get to plan your route. you can divert from the path sometimes, maybe even abandon your previous one altogether. you don’t have to keep up with those in front of you or slow down for those behind you – where they are has nothing to do with you. when you get tired, you can rest, and when you feel energized you can speed up. in any way, it’s a walk you’re on. and it’s your walk to be on. how you get through it and how you accommodate yourself and who you link arms with is up to you.

How something feels isn’t always how something is. Sometimes what feels like the end of the world is just the end of an era, and what feels impossible is just difficult, and what feels like betrayal is just miscommunication. One of the most important things you’ll learn in life is to not limit the world to your perception of it.

reasons people might be looking at you in public (that aren’t negative)