We all struggle, but we need to dust ourselves off

We all have mountains that we must learn to climb, we all have something we struggle with. It’s human nature, and because it’s human nature, I’m no different than anyone else who has a hill to climb and things to struggle with. What I’ve struggled with is something I think a lot of people struggle with but are afraid to admit it. I struggle with being myself and struggle with my identity.

It’s in my blood

One of the toughest things I struggle to admit is that I have Romani blood. As soon as I Google the term Romani, I read some nasty articles about how ‘all gypsies are bad’ and how Romani are scum. But after learning about my blood, joining a few Romani Facebook groups, and actually finding real articles, not ones based on fear, I feel less afraid to admit I’m Romani, but not open enough to announce my heritage to the world.

Because I’m only partly Romani, I don’t live my life like my members of my family do, but I support everything they do, as long as it’s legal and it makes them happy. I shouldn’t have to be afraid to admit I’m of Romani heritage, and I’m not as secretive about it before. I’m sure talking about it and maybe including it more on my blog may actually help.

“But you don’t look autistic”

Coming to terms with being autistic is another one of those struggles. Back when I was diagnosed, the internet was still booming, and there wasn’t a place like Facebook or places for me to search. I got my answers to what I was diagnosed with from a medical book that was one, maybe two lines max. The two lines made it sound like someone with autism was a freak. A weirdo—the book scared me a lot. If only I had the internet to help me.

Hiding my autism played a lot on my mind. I was angry at myself and at the world. I’d explode over everyone and have meltdowns upon meltdowns. Looking back at the meltdowns and the anger I had, I can really say that I was embarrassed and wished I would have come clean sooner.

I think one thing that flipped the switch for me was when my 8-year-old was diagnosed with autism. Even though he’s nonverbal he doesn’t let anything or anyone bring him down. Most of the time he’s happy and loves to do things on his terms. The things we learn from kids is amazing, we learn to bottle up emotions, we learn it’s okay to be different, and we learn life isn’t as bad as people make it out to be. The simple things are what matters the most in life.

I’m a writer

The last thing that I deal with oddly is admitting that writing is where I’m the happiest. I’ve had many people rain on my parade, and tell me that I can barely speak English. I was told that my writing was horrendous and that I don’t write properly. It’s lead me to feel uncreative, and lead me to ignore my blog. It was stupid to allow people to tell me that I couldn’t write when I had school teachers love my writing style or even some writers that I looked up to online tell me that they like what I wrote. I’m okay with criticism, but when people point out blank just tell me that everything I write sucks without explaining to me what’s wrong with how I write, it derails me.

Time to be me

Yesterday I turned 34, and when I saw Mama Kat’s writing prompt from last week, I knew it was time to think about some of the things I struggle with and work out a game plan on how I can change. Changing might be scary at first, and it may take time to admit that I’m an autistic Romani writer, but only time will tell if I’m able to move on, dust myself off and finally let myself be who I always wanted to be.