By June 15, 2013 Read More →

I’m a Tweener

I’ve always struggled with reading and writing. It wasn’t until the 2nd grade that I actually became proficient reading, and it wasn’t until much later that I realized that I don’t see words by the letters that make them up. I see words by their shape. It was always weird why I had so much trouble with shorter words but was much better at longer words. Those of you who visit the blog often know that I struggle with grammar. I’ve never been able to see punctuation marks, its one of the reasons I left computer programming, I can’t tell the difference between a semi-colin and a colin. You’d think that insignificant but as the Royal Bank of Canada learned the hard way it can make all the difference in the world. The Royal Bank experienced a transactional disaster when a computer program with a colin instead of a semi-colin was promoted into production without the necessary testing. It took them six months to recover.

individual, including things like love, acceptance, family, friends, and a job. As a tweener it’s all up to me! I’m not getting parented; I must find parents. I’m not getting an education; I must find one. I’m not getting fed, I must find food. I want to work, so I must work hard, and I must work my best; I must be better than the best! I want to thrive in this world, so I must be tenacious. I must stand up and be counted; I will not simply inherit the world. I must stand up and ask for what I want, and if they say “no”, I must remove their excuses until they say “yes”!
Living between disabled and not-disabled is a constant balancing act acknowledging and living with all the aspects of me. Living openly, that is, as an “outted tweener”, is a new thing for me. I haven’t figured it all out yet. But thankfully I have at least figured out, more or less, how to work again. I have a new family in which things are working well. Friends are a work-in-progress. I have no contact with my old family, parts of which I miss, but others that I’m more than happy to let go.
For the first time in my life, I am living with integrity and character. The cultural razor is that used to cut me when I pretended to be sighted or downplayed my disability, is less and less prevalent. Now, I say I am blind – I can see very little but I can do amazing things. There is a difference – subtle and sublime – for the first time I can sleep at night knowing that I live acknowledging all of me. And in doing so I am happy.

Posted in: Disability & Blindness

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