This post was seriously challenging to get into words. I have written and re-written it so many times that I thank heaven for the save without publishing button. For some reason I started doubting myself during this post. Are people even interested in what I’m saying, is the topic so sad that no one will want to continue reading, have I spent to much time talking about my earlier years…. AHHHHHH. After days of debating with myself I’m back and not leaving this computer until this post is finished!
If you are just joining me here I’d suggest the reading of parts 1-4 of this series of posts.
Micky made it easier to get through middle school but I still felt myself changing. I was teased constantly about not just my disability but also my out of date clothes, hair and religion. By getting a job and buying name brand I stopped the clothing teases but I wouldn’t change religions or my hair so the clothes didn’t fix much.
The next thing to creep into my one armed world was a realization that perhaps I couldn’t do everything I wanted. My mother played flute in school and I wanted to follow in her footsteps and play that incredibly beautiful instrument. Playing flute with one hand couldn’t be figured out in school but I was given some other options and I settled on playing the french horn… yeah I see the irony here… a small dainty flute turned into a huge french horn. Even though it wasn’t what I wanted to play the most I still worked hard and became a good french horn player. I also wasn’t allowed to join archery class either (makes sense..who would have been responsible for me shooting a person in the butt?). Perhaps that is why I play archers in online games…. living vicariously through digital things ftw!
So that’s a little bit of the story of me. I’ve decided to make this the last post in the “Once upon a prosthetic” series. I’m itching to get started writing on other things. Cheers to you for now!