May 1, 2021

Spring Style 3.2

Right now is one of those times where I feel like I have so much to write about, so much to say, but the words are struggling to leave my mind. The last couple of weeks have been a whirlwind of healing opportunities, decisions, deep reflection, and new beginnings. I love where I’m at during this stage of my life. This stage isn’t ideal and definitely doesn’t look good on paper, but that’s where the power is– in the happiness. I’m happy.

To be honest, I’ve never really cared about what my life looked like on the outside. I don’t try to be someone i’m not or portray myself in any other way than who I am. I’m learning that I don’t always make sense to other people and that’s okay. It’s been hard spending the last few years hiding parts of myself out of fear… which I know is going to be an ongoing struggle.

The poem I wrote and shared in my previous post was something I felt so deeply during that time. I can still feel the emotions as I sat on my navy couch in my old office, crying, and just letting the words flow. To each their own on style of poetry and the metaphor, but when I reread that poem a few weeks later, I couldn’t believe I had written it. I felt that proud. Then to realize the fear I had around sharing it… and honestly thought I might never share it. I don’t feel proud about a lot of things. Typically, I feel like I’m doing what I’m suppose to be doing and feel satisfaction in that. But to write something and feel proud about it, then to feel scared and fear for anyone to read my words… that’s the type of world we live in. That’s the type of world that was created for me… and that’s the type of world I’m working daily towards changing.

I was afraid of being called dramatic, emotional, and having my mental health called into question. All things that had been done many times before. The truth of the matter is my entire building filed a grievance against our school district three weeks after I wrote that poem. My former teammate and I tried to file a grievance as well, but were advised to focus on the building grievance. I wasn’t the only one that felt the way I did. We were all fighting a war to keep our students and our community safe. I, however, had already been fighting a war with the special education department in my district. For someone who hates war and hates conflict, I sure entered the arena more times than I would have liked. I burned a lot of bridges speaking my truth and I kept standing up and the district wanted me to sit my self down.

Honestly, this is what I’m trying to say: every day I was at my former school, even when in the trenches, I was happy because I was being me. The hardest year and a half of my life was when I wasn’t following my passion and being me, due to reasons I had no control over. To be inclusive, we have to let people be them. We have to work together. We have to show up as the people we are and the people we want to be. When we deny people that opportunity, we deny an opportunity at happiness and acceptance. Being me is living a life with bright colors, outfits that make me feel confident, motivational quotes, and a deep analysis of light looking in the darkest of situations.

That’s just me.

It’s also the struggle of having an invisible disability. I can get dressed and smile and no one would even know a thing. Not because I’m trying to hide anything, but because no one can simply see.

The partial story behind these outfit pictures below is another day of guest teaching, another day of winging it. oh… and I learned how to use portrait mode on my iphone… and downloaded lightroom to edit photos again. And I most likely was very tired and nervous and forgot something at home and realized it half way through the day… I cried on a few of the days, smiled much more though… and much, much more 🙂