A letter to my hater
I would like to tell you a few things that my heart has been keeping for a few years, but as you are now affecting my friends, it is time for me to speak up. You see, in the last past month you have been sending two girls back from school feeling less that anything, you have made two of my favorite boys really uncomfortable with your stares, and a 4-year- old twin stand up for his Diff-abled brother.
In all of these years we have known each other, I've learned you come in different ages, races, levels of education, you can be either a man, a woman, a little boy, a girl or a friend; you have mastered the art of disguise, and that makes it even tougher to see you coming. But, when you do, you are capable of destroying in one second, years and years of self-love work, you might not know this - at least I hope you don't- and this is why you act like you do.
So, let me tell you something, since the day I was born, I was blessed with a disability and I just learned a few weeks ago that the two people that got to see me first, were my dad and my godfather, as they came in and saw me, my dad went all weak in the knees and my godfather had to grab him for him not fall down as he cried his eyes out. When my mom got to meet me, there were tears filling the room, her sister had to lay down on top of her to calm her shaking body reaction to her new baby. It wasn't an all happy tears moments. The work had to begin, so we learned that my life will have to be filled with therapy, surgeries and lots of pain. By age six I was SO used to pain, that I had BOTH my femurs broken and fully rotated and it was just another surgery, I was more worried about the fact that I wasn't going to be able to swim in the summer than about the pain I was feeling. That was how tough I was with pain related things, but nothing had prepared my family or me for what was about to come. After that surgery, I met you for the first time, you might remember me, I was 7 and new to your classroom, you, as always didn't introduce yourself, I just heard you giggling behind me and passing a drawing you made of my hands, the whole classroom got to see your masterpiece and thanks to that 10 minutes of fun for you, I spend over 5 years hiding my lovely hands from the world. I was used to pain, but the pain I felt that day wasn't comparable to anything I felt before, you, my friend crushed my soul.
Since then, we've met several times, you find me in the streets while walking, at the supper market as I'm reaching out for something I want to buy, you have also seen me a few times at University, We met again the first time your son introduced me as his girlfriend when I was 18, and now we cross paths every now and then, and even though we have a long story and you are constantly present in my life, I'll never get used to you, I have learned to see you as part of my life, but you still hurt.
I would like to make peace with you, but I understand that life hasn't blessed you as it has me. Not everyone learns to find beauty in everyone and everything, a lot of people have had a very easy life to be able to learn what a wrong look can do to others. Or maybe, you are just too hurt to heal and be nice to others. Whatever it is, there is no excuse to make someone feel more pain than knowing how much you hurt your parents when you were born, dealing with hours of painful physiotherapy and all their surgeries put together. You, my friend, are more hurtful than all of those just because there is no reason for you to act like you do, all the other pains in the end led me to better places, but you, you only lead me to the dark side of my soul.
With all that said, I feel blessed that you and my disability are in my life, you both have taught me to be caring and loving of all things, I have learned through you the beauty of compassion, acceptance, sympathy, mercy, and tolerance. You, my friend, are missing out on this wonderful feelings, but that is on you.
I just want to finish this letter, by saying those kids you meet every now and then, are powerful souls and you might be scratching them, but never breaking them, they are here to shine a very bright light that no shadow can dim, not even yours.
Until we meet again.