It has haunted me my whole life, this deep emptiness, this longing, I know part of it came from emotional & physical neglect in my formative years, I know that I have always been “different”, “unique” “too” this or “too” that and as my mother referred to me with her normal bewildered expression and struggling to conceptualize what I was trying to articulate to her, “eccentric”. (ouch)

Fitting in was never in the cards for me, I didn’t understand my peers and no matter what I tried they didn’t seem to understand me at all. As long as I can remember people around me could sense I’m a little off, I don’t share their perceptions and most of the time, our realities look nothing alike.

I’m ambidextrous ,and teachers would get irritated at my sloppy penmanship and exclaim “pick a hand and stick to it!” I also struggle with numbers, all of them. Words and sentences I would read and write completely back wards until I was in 3rd grade, I didn’t get any sort of special education or aid, one day the words just flipped in my mind and before my eyes, That day I went from Nagrom to Morgan overnight

Amusing to look at my papers all signed with my name written backwards for the first 9 or so years of my life. I know now my struggles are called dyslexia and dyscalculia, glad that my struggles and learning disabilities had names and there were very good reasons for the so many of my idiosyncrasies. It took introspection on the deepest levels to label my many complex natures.

What did dyscalculatia look like for me? I could never do a lick of math and my step mother got the horrible assignment of my math tutor, every single weeknight I would get anxious and throw up, knowing that no matter how badly I wanted to please her the multiplication tables would never formulate in my mind, she would be so frustrated and SO mad, how hard can 8x4 be after all? My Fs in math piled up over the years and to day I felt defeated, is putting it mildly.

For me much of school seemed impossible, and my learning style was acknowledged nowhere, nobody understood, I wasn’t being lazy and I didn’t want to be stupid or dumb as I was often called, I had a disability. What I wouldn’t give to go back and explain this to every one who ever scoffed at me or tried to convince me that I was not trying hard enough.

I remember each kid got a tootsie pop (my favorite candy growing up) for each row of numbers multiplied they memorized, 9 in total were possible, no matter how hard I tried, month after month, I couldn’t get one bloody lollipop, reminds me, I am going to buy myself a whole bag, because I’m an adult and I CAN do that now. Go me.

I’m unusual, my mind does work, just differently , not like most, its more abstract you could say.

For example my visual-spatal i.e. spacial processing parts of my brain are very active and I have astute visualization skills and I can see space in my minds eye, I have always had a rich inner life and those traits came in quite handy. I’m also very intense, these traits are called over excitables I was fascinated when I begun to put names to all the ways I was different, or you could also say divergences, self awareness id key for everyone who hopes to one day reach self acceptance, a beautiful place to arrive, it’s a deep inner peace that quietly says “I am me, & I am very OK with that!”

Let anyone who is neurodivergent serve as a beautiful reminder that we all are made of different pieces, unique traits and personalities that make us individuals, we are human and humans are all capable of beauty and wonder and I choose to believe that we as a people have some beautiful things to carry out as we evolve. Together.