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Owning my story 2: the power of authenticity

True belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world, our sense of belonging can never be greater than our level of self-acceptance.
Brene Brown

Of all the things I struggle with, self-acceptance is probably my biggest challenge. And when I look at society, I know I’m not the only one (though admittedly there are times I feel like I am). People spend a lot of money on appearance, whether it’s plastic surgery or expensive possessions, because they care how others perceive them.

We humans are wired to live together, we all have the need to belong somewhere. The question is, where do we want to fit in? Do we want to fit in in the superficial world that tv and magazines show us? The world in which being skinny, pretty, famous, successful and making a lot of money is valued?
Or do we choose to be with people who accept themselves and others the way they are and are ok with nobody being perfect (and for the record, being rude to someone under the pretense you are “just being yourself” has nothing to do with acceptance, it only shows how much you still need to learn).

It shouldn’t be a hard choice, but for many (myself included) it is. We want to feel accepted and connected to the people around us. And from a young age on, we are taught the things we need to do to fit in to earn acceptance. Boys wear blue, girls play with dolls. A boy who wants to dress up and play with dolls? Still not accepted by most people. Best case they think he’s weird, unfortunately there are still people that think it’s his own fault if he gets bullied. While really, we should be supportive, because he is being him.

Growing up, we hardly talked about feelings in my family and you certainly didn’t want to air your dirty laundry. Also, I learned that it was better to take yourself down, so that someone else couldn’t. It wasn’t until years later that I learned that no one else can take me down, unless I let them. Only you have the power to take you down, either by doing it yourself, or giving your power to someone else.
And of course, as with most things, the concept is simple, yet the realization may be a little more challenging.

Authentic me, I’m still looking for me. I was 9 when my parents divorced and I was the oldest of three. My mother was very depressed and I felt responsible for both her and my siblings. The result was that I identified so strongly with my mother that when I went to live on my own I literally had no clue who I was. Usually puberty is the time when we take distance from our parents to develop our identity. Not me, I did what I thought would help my mother, be a nice girl, not make any trouble, be there for her when she needed me, look after my brother and sister. And somewhere along the way I lost myself.

When I realized, I literally did not know who I was, I started working on myself. I read books and went into therapy. Slowly, step by step, I am finding myself. I still have some challenges ahead, but then, I believe life is a journey and that we need to keep learning.

Keeping things to myself and putting on a mask has brought me a lot of pain and sadness, I’ve lost friends over it. Because I would always say I was doing ok, even though I wasn’t. But I felt like I couldn’t keep on saying that I wasn’t doing well. And sometimes I would actually believe myself when I said I was doing ok (I’m a little hard headed, I still do that sometimes). What did I have loose? Could thing get any worse? And so, I decided to open up and get honest about myself. Yes, it was scary, it will probably always be a little bit scary, and that’s ok. That means I’m getting out of my comfort zone.
And it was the best thing I could’ve done. I was overwhelmed by all the sweet, positive, heartfelt responses. Sometimes even from people I didn’t know. It made me realize how many people really care about me and also, how much we need one another to be open and honest, because that is the only way to really connect to others. That is the power of being authentic.

The other day I was having coffee with a friend and when we were about to leave, she said let’s get together in two weeks, I want to keep an eye on you. That was so sweet and made me feel so accepted. That morning I was ok-ish, and I felt better during our coffee, but that really made me feel cared for. That was so powerful.
I guess I must be doing something right to have a wonderful husband and some awesome friends 😊 .

 

Owning my story: the beginning

You either walk inside your story and own it or you stand outside your story and hustle for your worthiness.
Brene Brown

Hustling for worthiness, that’s what I’ve done for as long as I can remember. Never good enough, only visible when I got high grades or was “a good girl”. Always trying to be perfect so others would like and accept me. Always trying to stand outside my story, because I was ashamed of it, of myself.

For years now, I’ve been working on myself, trying to learn how to deal with things differently. I’m making progress, but I realize that I still haven’t fully owned my story. I tried to leave out the most important part, love and empathy for myself. Because deep down there I still feel I’m not worthy of love and belonging.
But you can’t truly live when you’re always wondering what someone else will think. Besides, it’s not the example I want to set for my daughter. So, it’s time to own my story.

The concept is quite simple, the execution is slightly more challenging. I’m a perfectionist, because perfectionism is safe. It keeps you in your comfort zone to minimize the chance you screw up and get rejected. Because, what’s not to love when you’re perfect? Except, I’m not perfect. No one is. Imperfection is part of being human. And it’s only when we can accept that, that we can start owning our story.

But people are creatures of habit, especially if it’s safe. Of course, I know perfectionism isn’t healthy. But it’s easy, it’s safe and I’ve done it for so long that it has become my default setting. I will have to reboot my entire system.
But, where to begin? Honestly, no clue. I’ve been thinking of what might help me. The best I could come up with was going back to therapy and creating some new, healthy habits. Not too much and not too long, because I want it to be sustainable, it needs to last for the rest of my life.

Since I’m someone who needs structure, I decided to mark it on my calendar. It’s not so much that it needs to be done right that second, but this way I get a reminder. For me that increases the chances of actually doing it. I decided to start with two new habits and set a timer for a small amount of time every week day. This time is mandatory, if I decide to do more, that’s fine. I just want to create a habit by doing it daily.

The first thing on my list is to meditate to start my day. I will set the timer for 10 minutes. This forces me to take some time to relax. Sometimes it comes easy and I continue after the mandatory time. Other times, those 10 minutes seem to last forever. And that’s fine, just as long as I do it.

The second thing is to take time to write every day for at least half an hour. If it’s not on my calendar, I will only do it when I feel like I have inspiration. If I ever want to become a writer, I will have to start making it a habit and above all, practicing. It’s my first step in getting out of my comfort zone. I’m terrified that I will never be read, that I will never make it to the point that I write an actual book. But if I ever want to get there, I will need to take risks. Ironically, I’m trying to teach my daughter that failure isn’t the end, but a starting point. It’s a start from where you can begin to learn and grow. Practice what you preach.

Not a daily habit, but something I’m trying to be mindful about, is what I tell myself. When I notice that I’m having negative thoughts about myself, I will replace it with more helpful thoughts. The other day I met some people and when leaving most of them were talking to one another. I just felt so socially awkward that I just left silently. At that moment, I beat myself up for being like that. When I noticed that, I acknowledged my feeling of having wanted to do something differently, but I also let myself know I am ok. I went there to meet those people in the first place. I could have just not gone there. So, instead of focusing on the thing that I wish I had done differently, I focused on the big thing that I had done.
Like Brene Brown says: “If we own the story, then we can write the ending”.

September: National Suicide Prevention Awareness Month

Imagine, you have been walking all day and somewhere along the way, you got lost. You’ve been walking around for hours and the day is coming to an end. It’s getting darker and darker, you can hardly see where you put your feet. You need to find shelter soon. Then, suddenly your foot slides away and you tumble down. A long way down. Like Alice into the rabbit hole, except, there’s no wonderland, just darkness.
There you are on the bottom of a pit, it’s ink black and freezing cold. You try to keep calm and carefully explore the place. Panic starts to grow when you realize the only way out is to climb up and the walls are almost smooth. You have no gear, just your bare hands and feet. You scream, you yell, but no one hears you. But you don’t give up easily and so you start to climb. It’s hard, almost nowhere to hold onto and you slip and fall. You try again in another place. A little higher this time, but your foot slips again and you’re back down. Desperately you try over and over and over again. You keep on trying, days go by, weeks, maybe more. No matter how high you get, you can’t see the slightest ray of light. The walls are to high and to smooth for you to climb back up. You give it your all, but you’re tired, so tired… You’ve used all your supplies. Finally, you reach the point where you just don’t have anything left, no food, no energy, no feelings, nothing. All you want to do is just sleep and for this to be over.

September is National Suicide Prevention Awareness Month. I know there are a lot of people who consider suicide to be selfish. And I can understand that when you’ve never been in a severe depression. Someone may seem to have it all; a good job, a loving family, a lot of friends. Why do that? Why leave everything behind when you have so much to live for? The thing is, when you’re down in that pit, you can’t see that anymore. There’s nothing but darkness and no matter how hard you try to get out of there, you can’t get high enough to see some light.

Having gone through a severe depression myself, I can understand that someone may come at a point in their life that life is just darker than you ever thought darkness could be. When you feel like you are nothing but a burden for the people around you. I’m very grateful I never reached the point that taking my life seemed like my only option, but I’ve seen enough darkness not to judge someone who does.

The only way to help people overcome depression and prevent possible suicide, is to get rid of the stigma surrounding mental illness so people won’t feel ashamed to seek help.
Unfortunately, there are still a lot of people that don’t take depression seriously. Like kickboxer Andrew Tate (honestly, I had never heard of the man before, but apparently he is some kind of famous) tweeted that: “depression isn’t real” and those people are just “too lazy” to change their lives. It’s so sad when someone who is famous throws his unfounded opinion on a topic he clearly knows nothing about on social media. This reinforces the stigma surrounding mental illness and only prevents people from seeking the help they so desperately need. It’s good to see that other (really!) famous people like J.K. Rowling take time to retort.

I’m not asking anyone to understand suicide, just to think (hard) before you judge a person. You don’t know what someone has been through. It’s sad enough that someone decides to take their own life. Instead, let’s open up about mental illness and create a safe environment for people to seek help.
On this site you can learn more about mental illness and find resources if you’re interested.

 

 

 

Depression as Purpose?

Have you ever wondered what the purpose of your life is? I have. Many times. Ever since I did my first NLP training I have this feeling that I want to help people, I just don’t know how. But lately I’m starting to think that maybe it is to create awareness for mental illness. Whenever I feel insecure about my posts I keep reminding myself: if there’s just one person who gets something out of my writing, then it’s worth it. It’s not about me and my insecurities, it’s about helping people. And in this way, my depression and all my suffering hasn’t been in vain.

Depression is a part of my life like… forever, really. Not just me being depressed, but also growing up with a mother who suffered from it. For years I haven’t talked about it, but in recent years I’ve begun to realize how important it is to open up about it. Not just depression, but mental illness in general (I just often refer to depression because that is what I know best).

Living with someone who is depressed is hard. I can’t make it prettier than it is. It’s hard because the person who is depressed has so much going on that there’s no space for anything or anyone else. That’s not because they don’t want to, but because at that moment they just can’t. But that doesn’t make it any easier for the people that have to live with it, because they have needs too. And that’s why it’s so important for them as well to get rid of the stigma surrounding mental illness.

Stigma does not just prevent people who suffer from mental illness to seek help, it also prevents a lot of people who live with them from talking to people about it and seeking help for themselves. It’s hard on partners when they have to do the extra work in the household because the other person can’t do it, or to explain to others why you’re not going to that party. And, since I have a soft spot for children, especially thinking of young kids with parents who suffer from mental illness, because they depend on them. Often kids don’t know (exactly) what’s going on but they do live with the consequences of their parents illness and that can have a great impact on a child. They are so vulnerable, don’t know what is going on and often have not yet learned the resources to survive this.
Whether it’s your partner or your parent, if you live with someone who has a mental illness, you need help too. Even if it’s just a good friend who will listen to you.

Today I came across a beautiful article in which psychologist Stephen Hinshaw tells about his book: “Another Kind of Madness: A Journey through the Stigma and Hope of Mental Illness”. It is a memoir about his life growing up with a father who has psychotic episodes. It’s not in the library (yet, I hope) so I haven’t read it yet, but I definitely will. But just the article itself is a great read for everyone who is interested in mental illness. Especially if you have or know kids that grow up with a parent with a mental illness, please do read this article!

P.S. If you have questions feel free to contact me, I will do my best to answer them.

Thank you

Thanks to everyone who read my post on mental illness and for all the kind responses I got.
Honestly, after I put my post on facebook, insecurity hit big time. Why am I doing this? As if anyone wants to read this. With those 2 people I know I’m not exactly going to change the world. Ahhh, good old insecurity, always there when you don’t need it.

The nice feedback and the kind words that I received in response to my post were heartwarming and made me realize it was a good decision.
Also, it reminded me of the fact that there are a lot of people in one way or another being affected by depression (I’ll stick with depression, since that’s my field of expertise). It’s just that most people don’t talk about it.
And, not unimportant, it made me realize I need to be more open about it with the people around me. If they don’t know I’m having a rough time, they can’t help me. Well, dah…

It’s just time I actually start doing it. It doesn’t help that I’m not much of a talker and there’s also the problem (well, one of them anyway 🙂 ) that I’d like to pretend everything’s ok, and I’m pretty darn good at it, if I say so myself. The: “if you don’t say it aloud, it’s not there” strategy. Not very helpful, in case you were wondering.
And I don’t want people to think I’m whining by saying I’m not well so often (I have quite some days I’m not doing too great). And also, my good, is good considering how it usually is, that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m “normal” good .
But I have to put this aside, for myself, so people around me know what’s going on. But also for my daughter, because I want her to learn it’s not just ok speak about your feelings, but also necessary.

So, for everyone who cares; right now, I’m not doing too great. Winter is usually a hard time for me and I was actually hoping I’d do better now that the days are getting longer en sunnier. Unfortunately I’m not there yet. My challenge is to remind myself that my mind is playing tricks on me and that I have to be very careful what to believe and not. Also, I like to have contact, but feeling like this makes it hard for me to get in touch and even harder to actually go out and see people. Just know it’s not because I don’t care or don’t want, but just because I’m in a rough place at the moment.

Thank you to everyone who cares, for your kind words and being my friend. It really does mean a lot!

Sandra

Mental illness #break the stigma

Whether an illness affects your heart, your leg or your brain, it’s still an illness, and there should be no distinction.
Michelle Obama

Mental health, one of the most important things in our lives, whether young or old. It determines how we interact with people around us, how we handle stress and problems, how we make choices and act.
According to the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH) almost 18 percent of US adults suffered from a mental illness in 2015. And unfortunately it’s not just adults. One in five children (age 13-18) suffer at some point in their life from a debilitating mental disorder.
Considering those numbers and the impact of mental illness, it’s rather surprising how little attention we give it. And by keeping silent, we maintain the stigma surrounding mental illness. Getting rid of the stigma and recognizing that it’s a real illness will encourage more people to seek the help they need and do justice to their suffering.

I’ve experienced this stigma first hand. Ever since I was a teenager I have been struggling on and off with episodes of depression. First of all, it took years before I found out I suffered from depression. It’s not something they talk about in schools (though, considering the amount of children that suffer I think they should!). In fact, no one ever talks about it.
Things didn’t get much better when I knew I suffered from depression. Like before, people kept telling me to think positively, socialize and exercise more. It became painfully clear that people saw it as something I could have prevented or at least could cure by doing things differently. In their eyes I was just feeling blue, no big deal. However, depression is something totally different than having the blues. Depression is an illness with serious impact on the person who suffers from it as well as the people around him/her.

Besides the fact that depression is often not considered to be a “real” illness, there’s also the notion that you’re crazy. Once someone said to me that if one sees a psychiatrist “you’re really crazy”. I politely explained that a psychiatrist is nothing more than a doctor who’s specialized in mental illness and that most people that see a psychiatrist are absolutely not crazy. But it definitely shows a big part of the problem. Mental illness is often associated with being crazy. Dangerous maybe even. And yes, there are cases in which that is true. But, more often than not, crazy has nothing to do with it. They are just normal people with an illness of the brain.

It’s time that we start seeing mental illness for what it is. An illness.
We have to get rid of the notion that mental illness is self inflicted, not a “real” disease, and that people with a mental illness are weak of even crazy. How would you feel if your leg was broken and someone told you to “just think positively and exercise more”? You’d probably feel insulted, right? I know some people will think this is a ridiculous analogy, but this in fact is exactly what’s happening.
I’m not sure why it’s so hard for people to accept mental illness is real. I guess part of it is because if you’ve never experienced it, it is hard, if not impossible to imagine what its like and therefore is not relatable. Maybe because the behavior of someone with a mental illness can differ from “the norm”.

It can definitely be challenging to be around someone with a mental illness. Take depressed people, they’re not exactly fun to be around with (believe me, I know). Just try to keep in mind that’s pretty hard to be good company when your world is nothing more than a big black hole. And if you think it can’t be as bad as someone tells you; multiply their story by ten and you will have a glimpse at what they’re going through. The darkness and despair of a depression just can’t be described in words.
I know most people mean well, but please do NOT give someone with a mental illness “advice” about what will “cure” them. Believe me, they have tried. If you really care about someone, read about their illness and the best you can do, is simply to genuinely listen without any judgement (unfortunately that proves to very difficult for a lot of people).

The problem with the stigma of mental illness is that it makes it hard for people to admit that they suffer from it and prevents them to seek help. After all, no one likes to be seen as a hypochonder, weak or crazy. So, on top of their illness, they also have to deal with this enormous stigma, making them feel unheard and ashamed of themselves.

I’m no longer ashamed of saying I suffer from depression, but I definitely have been. That doesn’t mean I like to talk about it, especially to people I don’t know. Not because I’m ashamed. I know I didn’t bring this on myself. It’s because it takes too much energy to try to explain (more likely try to convince) that it’s really an illness and not me being lazy and feeling blue.
Though, I have to admit I still have moments that I feel guilty about being depressed. After all, I have a good life. I have a wonderful husband, a lovely daughter, live in a nice house, have friends, yet, I’m not happy. Having all this, I’m “supposed” to be happy. I feel guilty for not having a clean house and having all the laundry done, even though I’m a stay at home mom and have plenty of time. I feel guilty for not doing more with my family. I’m very grateful to have a wonderful, understanding husband, who reminds that’s not because I’m lazy or don’t care, but because I’m ill.

Please help break the stigma of mental illness by being open about it and acknowledging it’s just another illness and nothing to be ashamed about.

Worried about your quiet child?

Did you ever worry about your child being quiet? Wondering if (s)he is social enough, has enough friends, is well liked etc.? If you did, you’re not alone.
Many parents worry about their child not living up to the expectations of our extroverted society. Especially when parents are extroverts themselves, they may be wondering what’s wrong and think (s)he is shy or maybe even depressed. Well, there’s a good chance nothing is wrong. Your child may just be introverted.

Even I, an introvert myself, stepped into the same pitfall. I was worried about my daughter being shy. Wondering if she had enough friends, was well liked and enjoying herself. Because I was very shy as a child, I really wanted to prevent her from going through that same ordeal.
Even though all of her teachers the past couple of years told us she was doing great, was social and played with a lot of different kids, I kept worrying about it. Until I recently read “Quiet, the powers of introverts in a world that can’t stop talking” by Susan Cain and realized that she was just being her beautiful introverted self and I was projecting my own fears onto her.

Although from the outside introversion and shyness may appear to be the same, there is a substantial difference. Shyness is based on fear, being afraid of what others will think. An extrovert can be shy and show the same behavior as an introvert that isn’t. They’re both quiet, but for a different reason.
Introversion means that a person is more focused toward the inside. Introverted people don’t (necessarily) dislike people. But, where extroverted people gain energy from their interaction with others, introverts get drained.
For example, no matter how much my daughter likes to go to school, when she gets home, she needs quiet time. She will curl up in a corner of the couch and read. If I ask too many questions, she will get cranky. She likes school, but it also takes a lot of her energy and she needs time alone to refuel.

Introverted kids are often daydreamers and thinkers. They like to observe and think about things.
Whereas extroverted children dive into a party or playground to go play right away, introverted kids will first observe. They like to take things in before they join and usually have a preference for other quieter kids. And it’s not that they don’t talk, they just like to get to know someone first.

If you’re an extrovert and not sure how to handle your introverted child, then maybe this will help.

Accept that they are quiet. As long as they have a few good friends and they are happy, its ok. Not everybody needs loads of friends. If you’re not sure, ask your child’s teacher (at school and/or sports) how they are doing. Just make sure they are not afraid to speak their mind. It’s ok to be quiet, but they do have to be able to stand up for themselves.

Respect their need for privacy and downtime. Quiet time is essential for them to recharge, if they don’t, they’ll get overloaded and breakdown. Schedule downtime between activities.

As I said before, they are thinkers. They need to process events and like to think things through and rehearse their response, so give them some time. They don’t talk very easily. If you want to know what’s going on inside of them, try going on a walk or do something else that is relaxed enough to talk, but doesn’t put your focus on your child.

 

The Fairy Garden

The first week of my course ‘writing for children’ we had to write about a life event. That came pretty easily. This week’s assignment was to write something, mixing two genres. I couldn’t think of anything really. So, I made it a little bit easier on myself 🙂 . I asked Lisa what kind of story she would like me to write. That wasn’t too difficult for her. She wanted a story about a girl called Lizzy that got a box from her father and would meet fairies and other fantasy creatures. Great, that gave me two genres to work with, realistic and fantasy. I wrote it for children between 7 and 10 years old. If any of my Dutch friends thinks they know a child that may like the story, I’d love to translate it for them and hear their feedback.

 

The Fairy garden is a story, partly realistic, partly fantasy. The audience is children 7-10.

The Fairy Garden

Lizzy couldn’t sleep. She just heard something and was convinced there was someone. Or something. Like a dragon or a witch. She clamped her arms around her pillow. Her hand touched something. Suddenly she remembered the small wooden box her dad had once given her. He had told her it was a magical box and that she could use it whenever she needed a friend. All she had to do was open it and whisper: I’m Lizzy. She had put the box underneath her pillow and had forgotten about it until now. She grabbed the box. It fitted perfectly in the palm of her hand.

She opened it. Nothing happened. It was just an empty box and didn’t look like anything magical would happen, but she whispered “I’m Lizzy” anyway.

Within a blink of an eye she was no longer in her bed but in a big field surrounded by beautiful flowers that smelled wonderfully. Oh… and fairies! Lots of fairies! She pinched herself. Ouch, that hurt. She watched a fairy in pink as she danced through the air. So beautiful! But then… she gasped. A unicorn! Playing with the cutest little dragon ever!

“Do you like it here, Lizzy?”
Startled Lizzy looked to her side. There was the pink fairy she had seen earlier.
“Uh… yes,” she said timidly.
“My name is Rosa” said the fairy. “Let me show you around.”
“What is this place? Where am I?”
“This the Fairy Garden”.
“And how do you know my name?”
“How could we invite you if we didn’t know your name?”
“You invited me?”
“Yes, didn’t your dad give the box to you and tell you how to use it?”
“Yes, but…”

Rosa didn’t let her finish. “We invite children that, for whatever reason, need us. Your father used to come here when he was young.”
Her father used to come here? Why?

As if Rosa had read her mind, she said: “your dad came here when he was your age. He was very shy and didn’t like it. Just like you. We helped him overcome that and now we will help you.”
Lizzy couldn’t believe it. Her dad!? Shy!? She smiled, that meant the fairies could help her too. This place made her happy and knowing the fairies would be there for her whenever she needed them made her feel at ease.

She yawned. All of the sudden she felt very tired. Rosa smiled: “I know it’s a lot to take in. Why don’t you go back home, get some sleep and come back later? You can come back anytime you want to.”

“So… how do I get back home?”
“See that little cottage over there?”
Lizzy nodded.
“Just go in there and you’ll go right back to where you came from.”

She gave Rosa a big hug and entered the cottage. As sudden as she had entered the Fairy Garden she was back in her bed. Knowing she could always return to her friends, she fell into a deep and happy sleep.

 

 

You don’t have to understand someone to be respectful

You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.
Friedrich Nietzsche

The other day I was at a party. After I finished talking to a friend, I started listening in on another conversation. Since I just dropped in on the conversation, I didn’t know exactly what it was about, but it seemed being sociable was the theme. One of the women said that she couldn’t stand those engineers that would sneak along the wall (as if they are trying to hide) and not say anything. Apparently that didn’t feel comfortable to her and she told how she once walked up to one of them, stood right in front of him and said hi.

Honestly, I was shocked. That is something kids do in high school, not adults at work. Or so I thought.
That person may very well have been a shy introvert and was likely horrified when she was right in his face. I don’t know why she did it. If it was just to make her feel better or to somehow let that person know he should greet. But whatever her reason, there’s a good chance her action made this person draw even further back in his shell. If it was that important, annoying or whatever to her, she could have just politely asked him about it and/or tell him how it made her feel instead of being intrusive and disrespectful.

Since I didn’t feel like saying I’m introverted myself (they may have noticed, I don’t know, but I definitely wasn’t going to share 🙂 ), I started by telling them about a book I’m reading “Quiet” by Susan Cain. About how western society (and the US in particular) is focused on extroversion. How people are expected to show, and are appreciated for sociable, talkative and outgoing behavior. Those are good qualities and introverted people have other good qualities. Wouldn’t it be great if we could all respect and appreciate each other’s differences?

Hopefully it made them think about it. Unfortunately, in the heat of the moment, I never know what to say. I have to think about things first and then I prefer the write it down (apparently not uncommon amongst introverted people 🙂 ).

What I would really like for all of us, is to try and understand we are not all the same and that we all have our own qualities. Of course I understand that when someone is completely your opposite, it may be challenging to understand why someone is behaving the way they do. And even then, we can still be respectful of that person.

And this is not about introversion, but about autism, depression or whatever character trait or illness people may have that makes them not compliable with society’s standards. Different doesn’t mean less, it just means different. And it may be hard on people, so let’s not make it any more difficult for them. Let’s see the beauty and the qualities in others and appreciate and respect them for that.

 

Welcome to my life

Ok, this is kind of scary, so please be nice 🙂 .
I’ve discovered I like to write, hence this blog. But… I want more. And so, I’ve decided to do an online course writing for children. I’ve never written anything for kids, so it’s scary. All kinds of limiting beliefs that come to haunt me 🙂 . Every week there is an assignment and I want to share my very first one. The assignment was to write something about a life event. So, welcome to my life.

Comments on what’s good or not so good are greatly appreciated. If you have older children (I’m guessing between 10 and 16???) it would be awesome if you could get them to read it and tell what they think of it.
My apologies that the story is not divided into paragraphs, for some reason I could not make that work 🙁 .

 

Welcome to eighth grade
Oh…no, no, no!!! The only seats left are in the back of the class room! I can’t sit in the back of the room! How did I get here so late!? How could I be so careless!? I know I have to be early the first class of the year to get my perfect seat in the middle of the room. Not in the back with the talkies and the troublemakers and not too close to the teacher either.
Ok, ok, ok… don’t panic! I can’t panic here. Not in front of all these people. Take a deep breath.
Ok, so I have to sit in the back of the room, at least get a chair close to the door, that way I can get the hell out of here as soon as the bell rings. Over there, second last row, next to the girl with the too blond hair and too much make up.
Now what? Do I need to ask her if I can sit next to her or…?
“All right everyone, take a seat and get your things ready”.
Saved by the teacher. Now run and sit!
Oh man… too much perfume as well.
“Welcome to eighth grade, I’m mister Klein and I will be teaching you all about economics this year”.
Of all classes I came too late to his class! Mister Klein is really nice but he just doesn’t know how to handle a class. His classes are famous for being chaotic. Everyone knows you can do practically anything without consequences. And it’s the one class that I really, really need to pay attention to.
That disgusting perfume is making me nauseous. Why do some people wear that much perfume? And if it were a nice perfume, but it’s some kind of heavy synthetic flower-ish smell.
Ok, I really need to pay attention or I will be behind from the very first lesson on.
“Don’t you just loooooove my new perfume?”
Great, Miss Too Much of Everything is discussing her new perfume with her friends in the seats right behind us. They’re not even trying to whisper.
Mister Klein is desperately trying to make himself heard. A lost cause. How long before he will go home with a burn out this year? I feel sorry for him. Why doesn’t he apply for another job? Everyone can see he is unhappy.
Just five minutes since class started. Only 45 more minutes…. And nine more months…. But hey, who’s counting?

Welcome to eighth grade.