I write a lot of stories. I write stories about just about everything, and I rarely write them all down. But I want to take a minute to talk about reality, and why telling people that things upset you matters.

There are a lot of people in this world. Not all of them are 100% sure how the rest of everyone around them thinks or should think at any given moment. For some of us “how to think” has become a very broad, whimsical concept, because the reality is, we all think differently. Some people like to be with others, and wonder how they see the world. There are people who study it. There are people who just notice things.

But not all of us come in to this world knowing how others think. Some of us have disabilities. Some of us are gifted and seriously skeptical of most things. Some of us just don’t put all that much worth in it. But honestly, most of us try, and some of us try harder than others for reasons we can’t control.

I don’t have a disability. But my personal history has given me lots of opportunities to see lots of miserable communication failures. I have only had true self confidence as of lately. And yet, so many people think that because I can read others in a way that kind of scares me and ace tests, it should be simple for me. I must be performing social graces wrong on purpose, and I must be seriously cruel for doing so.

I’m not cruel. It hurts my feelings when you attack my character because I do not have the same experiences as you do when it comes to seeing communication not explode. If you continue to try to fight me for your right to be right, I will stop talking to you for as long as it takes for me to find people that ask questions and give legitimate answers. I am not broken, I promise. But I am learning as fast as I can, and I have a lot of catch up to do, and I don’t know how to ask for you to stop trying to classify me.

I am not a category, and I am not out to get you, I promise. I don’t have it figured it, but you don’t either, I guarantee you. I am trying my best, and that doesn’t change. But please, if you see something that upsets you, say something for the love of God, don’t just insinuate things that I don’t understand based on the “common knowledge” I didn’t receive. Don’t talk about me within earshot, because I can hear you. Don’t pretend you won’t sit with me until I leave your social events. Don’t lie to my face and pretend your fine. If you have a problem, please say something. Because guess what? I already know there is a problem. I don’t know how to solve it alone except through time and trial and error, and for me, that is enough. But if you want to help me, you have to let me be human. And all I really needed was your advice in the first place, which you took back as soon as I started proving myself “unworthy” of care and concern due to my misplaced actions, which I have been alone in evaluating. You tell me that I should be more or less of this or that, but I legitimately don’t know what you are talking about. Kindness isn’t something I’ve read all that much about, and lately, it isn’t something I’ve seen all that much of, to be honest.

But I believe in you. And if you want me to be kind in the way that you are asking me, I have to have an example. And I can ask for things now, so I can be more specific. But I’m not in the habit of needing this kind of thing, because I am not in the habit of being this confused and straight up different than I was before. Big things happen sometimes, and not all of them are bad. But some of them a like a ball of yarn; complicated and increasingly more complicated the more people try to help unravel it. I promise I will let you help me. But for now, I need patience, and kindness, and not that much else. It’s nearly unraveled anyways, and I was never alone in doing that. Please just let it come apart naturally. It has already started to roll. The ends will come together soon. It will be easier. But for now, I just need to finish this semester. It’s okay to not know how to help me; I am mostly making it up as I go because it comes naturally. But please be kind. I would like to be able to seek your help.


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I am a second-grade teacher and pastor-to-be who loves people. I spend my weekends with friends or wandering the museums of DC alone and with a journal, trying to put words on the places of the soul that still feel wordless. I spent most of my days at school trying to learn patience through my students and running on sheer nerdy passion. I follow Jesus Christ, and savor that as my most important identity--that I am a child of God, as are infinite others, regardless of their other identities. Christ is my one thing.

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