Ah, the end of year. A time to reflect on what has passed and what is yet to come. A time for change – or at least a time for thinking about change and then deciding against it.
When I ponder about how 2018 has changed me, I can’t help but think that 2017 seems very long ago. I usually hit the end of year wondering where it all went, but this year has been a long one. Time has plodded on by.
So much is different. This time last year my play, ‘The Duck’ had not yet hit the stage. I have been blown away by the incredible feedback it has had.
It’s hard to write something that will explain autism to those who don’t know about it, as well as reflect autism to those who experience it differently to me; a delicate line to walk.
We already have multiple dates planned for next year, and between that and the ‘Neither Use Nor Ornament’ project , for which I am writing poetry, and my essay collection, ‘The Wrong Kind of Happiness’ being long-listed for The New Welsh Review’s competition, it’s been a good year for my artistic side.
It’s been a year of learning who I am, of putting myself out there, of trying things. Some I succeeded in, others I failed, but there were benefits even in failure – sometimes for me, sometimes for others.
It’s been a year of settling into new friendships and feeling more comfortable in my own skin. The older I get, the more content I am with the person I have chosen to be. Not everyone will like me for who I am, and that’s okay too. I am learning to be me more. I think that’s best. If I’m not being me, and people prefer that version, then what’s the point? I want people around me who like who I really am, so best not to confuse matters.
It’s been a year of lovely people creating new lovely people, and watching that change has been beautiful.
It’s been a year of gardening and painting and crochet and shelving and sewing and jams and soap making and hedgerow-vodka and willow-weaving and origami-duck-flyer-designing-and-making and butter-knife-carving and tin-bath-hot-tub-making and so much more.
It’s been a year of decisions. It’s been a year of really coming to terms with my autism diagnosis. I am no longer frantically trying to understand who I am after years of being unsure. I have made peace with myself a bit – she still annoys the hell out of me at times, but she’s mostly a good egg.
It’s been a year of pushing myself hard and gifting myself time to recover.
It’s been a year of marvellous strangers; of poignant comments on the blog, of people sharing their lives, of kindness and goodness. I am always awed by how much people reach back when you share your life. There is so much horror in the world that we often forget all the small kindnesses people perform every day. It is so very much appreciated.
All in all it’s been a funny old year.
A particular thank you to you, for reading, for sharing, for following my ponders. Thank you for listening. I really hope 2019 brings you what you need.
That’s enough navel-gazing for now. Roll on 2019, I’m ready for you.
I love this reflection. I can identify. coming to terms with situations….it can be hard at times, but it does get easier for me I have found. I love this world of blogging and connecting to others like yourself who write with vulernability and transparency. it helps so many feel less alone. I hope it helps you too. Your writing is inspiring.
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Thank you so much. Wishing you a peaceful and productive 2019 💐
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Thank you! You as well.
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Have a lovely New Year and thank you for all you share. Your words are gifts to many of us. Kenza.
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What a lovely thing to say, happy new year to you too, Kenza. I hope 2019 brings you good things 💐
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Thank you for your writing, your honesty and wholeheartedness. You have inspired me this year and I wish you a great 2019! 🌺🌸
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Thank you for all your kind words and thoughtful reflections. Hope your 2019 is everything you want it to be 💐
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One resolution I need to make is to try not to blame every neurotypical on planet earth for the ways of lying, cheating scumbags. Unfortunately, said-scumbags can do a lot of irreparable damage and not realise it. Resisting the urge to scream “You ruined my life by bullying me!” at them
is hard, but me screaming abuse won’t make me a better person than them. I’d feel better for about a minute
then get the guilts. I wish we could all just get along and disregard any differences between us. Because I don’t want to be that horrible person. I don’t want to be like one of the nasty neurotypicals.
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Nasty people come in all shapes and neurotypes, and so do lovely people. I think the difference is that a lot of stuff that could be perceived as nasty by another neurotype is actually just a miscommunication. When we are seen as rude or forthright, when actually we are being honest and non-judgemental, it’s a mistake to say we are nasty; and when a neurotypical keeps talking at us when we are overloaded, because they want to help and want to find out if we are okay, but haven’t understood that they’re causing more pain, it’s not nastiness in either case, but it is causing distress that no one intended.
Individuals can be bad or good, classifications will always be a mixture.
The worst thing is realising that compounded bullying and misunderstandings is making you wary of everyone. Which ends up damaging you most of all.
I wish you a peaceful and kind 2019 💐 thank you for your thoughts, they are productive and positive despite everything you’ve been through 🌱
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