Owning My Disabilities and Flaws: A Liberating Confession

^{Photo source}

Mainstream media has taught the world to hide their imperfections and flaws. We take selfies and only post those that will surely get a number of likes from our followers, not to mention the layers of filters we apply in our pictures. Confidence has been faked and is measured by the number of likes we get. Truthfully, we have boxed ourselves as to what the world dictates to be “acceptable” and “beautiful.”

In fact, if you visit my Facebook account, you will never see the real me because I chose to succumbed to the world’s definition of me and what I should be. I have posted my pictures but never talked about the story behind them. I have never allowed the world to see how much time I spent in cropping my pictures or retaking them to get the perfect shot. I was afraid how people would judge me if they know my deficiency.

^{Shamesless selfies, I know!}

I hope you will understand why. I was born with a disability in my right arm, it was medically referred as Right Arm Deformity. When I was still a baby, my mother brought me to a German Doctor whom she thought could help my case. However, my father then realized that we should just accept what the Creator has given and be grateful that I was alive with no other major “defects.” I grew up with little confidence fearing that if I act normal in front of my friends, they will only tease me and make fun of my hand. We all know how painfully honest children are and as much as we can, we try to divert their attention to something that interests them instead of explaining to them why things are the way they are.

^{Finally my imperfections}

I wanted to be accepted even just for once. When I was in grade school, I was refused to join camping or dance presentations. My teacher said, I will only be a distraction to the audience. These rejections are a lot more painful than being dreaded by my high school crushes who does not want anything to do with me. When I graduated college, I applied for a writing job but was refused because I can only type in one hand. I was devastated that time as I have passed the initial examinations and even the typing exam. Still, I was refused.

I can still remember the exact words I wanted to tell that HR Officer with curly blonde hair when she told me to convince her more with her uninterested tone.

I could no longer convince someone who has already decided not to hire me basing only from my physical flaws.

I really wanted to say that to her face. But I didn’t. I was too coward to confront her and tell her that she was only rejecting me because I couldn’t type in both hands and not because I wasn’t qualified. I didn’t and I have regretted it a million times. I know I should have because that very moment still haunts me up until the present day.

For all the times that I couldn’t join dancing and camping activities, I resorted to writing. It has become my escape to a world free from judgement and “what shoulds.” And she is taking it away from me.

I never told anyone about this, not even my parents as I felt so helpless at that time. I couldn’t blame anyone. I couldn’t find someone that will truly understand my pain and my anger. Also, I don’t want the world to actually pity me because I know I can do great things without restrictions. All I want is for the world to give me a chance.

How I wished I could share all these to my mother. However, we all know that a child’s pain is a hundred fold more painful to a mother and I couldn’t do that to her.

For the past 27 years of existence, I am already used to judging looks and pity looks of strangers. Looks of relief that they weren’t in my position. Degrading stares thinking that they are better than me because of my personal circumstance.

You can’t...

You can’t join the dance troupe.

You can’t carry that.

You can’t be like that.

All my life, I have been forced to do what the world has set for me that I can only do. I have been imprisoned to the world which they want me to be in. That’s why I have stayed in the dark, hiding in my pictures with fake smiles and unrecognized potential.

Then, Steemit Came…

I was too busy writing things about me wanting to make people see the best in me. I tried to write everything that I am without writing the things that I wasn’t. I am not perfect. I don’t have the perfect two hands and I am typing this article using only one.

Then it hit me. Steemit is for everyone. @surpassinggoogle’s words became my motivation in coming clean to all of you guys and show you the real me.

Flaws are allowed.

Flaws are allowed.

Flaws are allowed.

These three words are very powerful as it has encouraged a lot of individuals to embrace their incapabilities, their physical circumstances and their shortcomings. I have read these words few days ago and they still keep me awake every night.

I was so ashamed when I read about posts of people who managed to share their whole life story in Steemit without any lies. These people gave me a glimpse of their lives without any conditions and I wasn’t giving them the same thing. HONESTY.

So, I am putting this for all the members of Steemit to know who I really am. I know this should have been included in my introduction post but forgive me for finding my courage at a later time.

I am doing this for myself too. Finally, I can be liberated from the world’s hold of my true identity and worth.

What Steemit did to me was life-turning. It allowed me to own my imperfections and make use of it. It gave me a hope that somewhere out there, someone still wants to know me more than my physical appearance. It has given me the chance that I have been asking this world my whole life.

So, Steemit, thank you for making me realize my self-worth and for letting me feel that I am truly a part of a warm, understanding and encouraging community. I will be forever grateful to what you have brought my entire life.

Sincerely yours,

Valerie, the Reborn Version

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