Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Bittersweet Confessions

From Stephanie at Layered Pages:
I am going to share with you a small taste of something that is acutely hard for me to talk about and to be honest about for many reasons. When I was a young child in school, I had what the education system called, “A learning disability.” In my speech and how I processed things or lack of I should say. I struggled with comprehension and my speech affected my relationships with other children at school and often times at church. Needless to say, I had a negative experience to say the least. My mother continuously fought for me and tried her best for the schools to help. The school system failed me but once. When we lived in Clearwater Florida, the elementary school I went to had a speech class and I loved it. The only thing that was hard was that the other children in my regular class knew why I was being pulled out of class and I was bullied horribly. I did have a tutor for years that helped me learn reading comprehension and to help me in other subjects and as I still struggled, I never gave up no matter how hard it was for me. Though I did keep much of my deep fascinations for stories, art, life, history, and how things worked inside me because I couldn’t express them outwardly for much of my life-except with my family. I was completely vulnerable and I admit, that creeps up from time to time even today.

In Clearwater at a church my father was on staff, we had a library filled with so many wonderful books. I would sneak in there sometimes when it was empty and pick a Nancy Drew book off the shelf and find a corner to read in. I struggled and often times soon forgot what I read. Even though no one was in the library, I would sheepishly look up to make sure no one saw me in case they asked me what I was reading. Then I started to make up my own stories in my head because that was easier for me. I needed that escape.
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