Reality blocked

My freshman year of college began at Purdue University. I felt honored to be accepted into Purdue and was excited to attend. A few of my friends were going to be joining me. Many times, concern about the size of the school was discussed with me. I was asked over and over, “do you think it is too big of a school for you?” I was adamant that I would be fine.

I started out at Purdue with some accommodations that were put into place to promote my success there. I had a room on the first floor with a semi-private bathroom, which were few and far between at the time. That was very nice to have, and very helpful to me. I also was allowed to bring my car and park it outside of my dorm, just steps away. That was also great. Those were the “special” accommodations that I “allowed.” Desperate just to blend in, I ignored my glaring reality.

Although I had my car on campus, starting out, I didn’t have permission to drive to classes and park near my classes. Again, I assured those asking me that I didn’t need that provision. I will be fine, was always my response to the pesky adults asking me. I wanted to walk to class like everyone else.

About a week into the school year, walking back to my dorm from class, I quickly discovered just how big the campus was. I had underestimated how tough that would be for me. It took me a very long time to walk to my classes and was exhausting on a different level. From out of nowhere, came a torrential downpour. Everyone around me became frantic and started running. Passing me on each side, nearly knocking me down. My pace did not change because it couldn’t. Head down, I continued on, suddenly acutely aware that blocking my reality was not serving me well. Pretending my limitations did not exist was not helpful, and the person it was hurting was me.

That was one of the longest walks of my life back to my dorm where I arrived about 30 minutes later, battered by the rain, my confidence beaten to a bloody pulp. I was defeated and my attempts to hide my realities were exposed for all to see. I felt foolish, and I was most certainly not blending in.

After a long cry and a hot shower, I reached out for help. I was able to get further accommodations, which allowed me to drive to class and park near the buildings that my classes were in. That was extremely helpful, and there was no shortage of willing participants to be my passengers.

That is just one example of how I tried to block my reality as a person with a physical disability. My life up to that point was a slew of similar instances. I suffered to try and blend in. It is that simple.

Looking back, that seems silly, but also, I still understand the young girl who so wanted to just blend in. I still feel that way at times, wishing I could just go somewhere, and no one would notice me. No one awkwardly staring or kids loudly saying, “what’s wrong with her?”

I recently had a conversation with one of my sons about a part of him that he has always tried to suppress because it makes him stand out from others. As his mother, I see it as one of his greatest strengths. He is learning as he gets older, just like I did, that blocking our realities does not end well. Eventually, they force their way out and we are still faced with the same thing. Our reality.

We need to embrace our realities in order to serve our purpose well.

Embracing our realities can be an incredibly beautiful and powerful thing. It really allows us to align with our path and purpose in life, enabling us to live abundantly. When we are able to do that, it feels so freeing. We truly are holding ourselves back when we try to dim what makes us ourselves. I speak from experience.

It is a battle of the mind, but I am determined to continue to try my best to embrace mine. I hope you do, too.

Until next time …

Amy Shinneman is a former National Ambassador for the Muscular Dystrophy Association, disability blogger, wife, and mom of two boys. You can find her blog at humblycourageous.com and reach her on Instagram @ashinneman.