Growing up, my mom was a fantastic cook. She learned from her mom, and our family has a lot of delicious recipes that have been passed down many generations. My mom would have my sister and I help some in the kitchen when we were younger, and we would watch her cook. I learned a lot just by watching her.
I got more interested in cooking when my husband and I moved away to Memphis, Tenn. I liked cooking because it was something I was able to do, and it satisfied my creative desires. I felt confident in the kitchen, and I enjoyed trying new recipes.
Because of my disability there are certain things that are challenging in the kitchen, but adaptable. Lifting heavy pots, standing for long periods, chopping, lifting things on and off shelves that are higher up, getting things out of lower cabinets and trying to stand back up are some things that are challenging for me in the kitchen.
Many years ago, my mom flew home with me to Memphis after I had come back to Indiana for major ankle surgery a year or so after I moved there. She was coming back with me to help me around the house, and just be there to help, as I was in a wheelchair with my leg propped up at all times. That made things tricky in many ways. I’m the kind of person who does not like to just lay around for long periods of time. I am energized by checking things off a to do list. After being in the hospital for a week, and then at my parents’ house another week recovering before heading back to Memphis, I was itching for some independence and alone time doing something I enjoyed.
I really wanted to make my baked ziti recipe for my mom and my husband, as a thank you for all they were doing to help me. It was quite an undertaking given the state I was in. I assured them if they got me ingredients I would make them dinner. I shooed them out the door and told them to return in a couple of hours. I was determined. They were very hesitant to leave me alone, but I insisted. I successfully cooked that meal, and while it certainly wasn’t easy (and maybe not the smartest with the boiling water and all) I figured it out and was able to gain some of my confidence back. My mom was amazed I pulled it off, and still talks about it to this day, some 23 years later.
We all need to do things that make us confident and happy. Living with a disability, the confidence tank can often run on empty. There are many reasons for this, but a lot of it is beliefs of others that we take on that just aren’t true. I’ve learned that other’s perception of my disability isn’t my reality. I’ve grown to accept that many are just not ever going to fully grasp what it’s like for me living in a disabled body. They will continue to measure me up based on their abilities. Some don’t respect my differences, and that can make things difficult. While it will always be painful to not be accepted as I am, I’m learning to move on and not waste valuable energy on those who will likely never be able to get to that place.
I have also learned that confidence must come from within ourselves, and there is no one to blame for our lack of confidence. It’s our belief of ourselves and how we view ourselves where confidence grows. It’s practice. It’s trial and error. It’s taking risks and sometimes getting to the other side of those risks, when you succeed, that cultivates confidence.
It’s like when I started my blog “Humbly Courageous” a few years ago. I just went off an idea that came to mind. I wasn’t a “writer,” but I loved to write. I set a personal deadline for myself to adhere to. Each week, when I hit publish on my blog post, my confidence grew. Even when no one was really reading it (for months!) I kept writing and sharing my story from my standpoint of a person with a lifelong disability and how that has shaped me. As I kept writing and looking back on my life, what I had been through and got to the other side of, my confidence continued to grow.
Confidence fluctuates from time to time, but if you are doing what you set your mind to, and you don’t give up based on the opinions of others, then I think you will feel free to just be confidently you.
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.