As a child and young adult, I was exhausted from having to hide. I carried something I didn’t understand, I didn't know I had – an invisible weight I had no name for, not knowing it was a disability. For years, I bore the burden in silence – which slowly eroded my mental health and spirit. I suffered quietly, not knowing that what I was battling, was more than just a personal struggle. It's been a lifetime's burden, one which I've had to carry alone.

Living a Double-Life

I found myself living a double life, a lie, maintaining a facade while struggling to keep up, whilst personally failing. That effort came at a cost. The more I tried to mask my reality, the heavier the strain became. I wasn’t free to be myself – and the internal conflict grew more painful each day.

Finding My Way to the Other Side

But now, I’ve emerged on the other side. Learning the truth about myself, understanding that what I had physically, mentally and emotionally was a disability – was the first step towards healing. Writing about my disability and learning about it, became my way of reclaiming my story, owning my life and accepting who I am, fully and without apology. It was a necessary step, one I believe anyone in my shoes would also choose to take.

A Difficult Road

This journey hasn’t been easy. At times, it’s felt suffocating, especially because I have been continually judged and misunderstood. But I refuse to hide. Instead, I’ve embraced the truth of who I am. In a world where truth often feels buried under ‘fake news’ or dismissed, learning about me and my story has become my anchor, my lifeline. It’s brought me clarity and better mental health, and I make no apologies for that.