I believe we, dyslexic people, are creators.
The universe intentionally made it difficult for us to learn from existing content so that we can create something new.
Traditional learning is hard for me.
A large amount of text is daunting and overwhelming for me to read and process, unless I have a personal association and resonance with the subject.
I rarely watch movies.
It takes up too much of my energy.
It’s almost impossible for me to sing along to songs.
I didn’t write the words.
I don’t like templates.
It’s annoying how I have to create pretty much everything from scratch.
I have a hard time remembering tangible details.
This painting of mine is a great example of how I associate people, places, and things with smells, textures, colors, lighting, and feelings.
I express my inner world through creative expressions.
I observe, listen, experience, and make mistakes in real life to earn lessons and knowledge.
I cross the line to know where it is.
I have my own way of seeing and learning.
I wish I could tell my 12-year-old self it’s okay to be unconventional.
In fact, it’s more than okay.
It’s awesome.
This morning, I woke up in tears. I’d already been crying in my dream.
In the dream, I was sitting across from my family at a long table, lined with crisp white linen. Me on one side, them on the other side. It felt like me against them. We were in a dining car on a train. The train was running along the coast. Outside the train was a beautiful, peaceful scene. Inside the train, my family was shouting at me. They were saying harsh, heartless things to me, just as they sometimes used to do in the waking life. They took out hefty cooking knives. One by one, they started throwing them at me. “You are crazy!” I shouted at them as I kept dodging the knives in the air. They continued to throw more knives at me. I begged them to stop, but they weren’t listening. They were too busy throwing knives at me.
When I woke up, I felt just… incredibly sad. I was coming to terms with the hurt I felt all my life. I carried their emotional burden on my shoulders. I tolerated their projected pain and anger. These are the things I kept brushing off growing up because I didn’t want to see my family as villains, and I somehow thought I deserved such treatment.
The other day, I heard someone say that most of us don’t hurt each other on purpose. I felt that. My family didn’t intend to hurt me, I’m sure, or I hope. But the damage was made in me. Words were said to me. The dream forced me to relive and feel all those difficult emotions that I didn’t get to accept and feel when I first experienced them. This time, I knew I wasn’t responsible for their emotions. This time, I wasn’t going to protect their feelings over my own.
I stayed in bed for a while to process the dream. I felt more tears in my eyes. I cried a bit more.
I am in the backseat of a Porsche, inside a large warehouse. The place feels like a corn maze, but made with concrete instead. The car is driving itself and about to make a left turn. I quickly hop in the empty driver’s seat, but the seat is pushed way back, to the point my legs can’t reach the pedals. I panic. We are going to crash. Despite my worries, the car turns perfectly, maneuvering carefully and beautifully in the tight space.
I am sitting in my comfy lounge chair on the balcony. The kind that reclines horizontally. I love that chair. I hear the birds chirping. Jacaranda flowers are blooming. The air is crisp after a brief moment of rain. The sun is high and hot. There’s no single cloud in the blue sky. I hear kids and adults playing soccer on the grass. My sheer curtains are dancing in the gentle breeze. Neighbors’ wind chimes are ringing softly. I’m wearing a white cotton tank, feeling the warm sun and the cool winds on my skin. My bee sting from Wednesday is healing okay. I’d just baked banana bread for me and a friend. She’s on her way. My door is unlocked to let her in. My room is filled with the sweet aroma. I’m just gonna sit in the sun until she arrives. I am journaling about the dream I saw last night. I’ve been having lots of vivid dreams lately. I sip on mint tea and take a deep breath. It smells like the beginning of summer, of something new and extraordinary.
I lost a piece of myself every time you left
I had no idea when I would see you next
You left me hanging and kept me in the dark
The loss, the pain, the void, the yearning
It was all too excruciating
I couldn’t bear it
Nobody had made me feel this way
We were home to each other
Then the next moment, we were strangers
We never got a chance to get close
Our story didn’t even begin
Every time we connected, we started all over again
A few years passed
I read the lyrics of the song you liked
Something clicked inside of me
The way you made me feel
The loss, the pain, the void, the yearning
It was how you felt growing up
With those who were supposed to love and care for you
You taught me it was okay to feel
You showed me what it was like to miss someone
I didn’t know I could miss another person
But you are not just another person
You are me
And I am you
I am part of a small band. I’m the singer. Others are reading music and playing their instruments. They follow the score and practice their craft. I, on the other hand, cannot find my sheet music. The sheet has the lyrics for me to sing. What am I supposed to sing if I don’t know the words?
My life comes with no script. I am the creator. I write the things I want to say. I write the scenarios I want to live. I choose the people I like. I do what feels fun and right for me.
We buy things we don’t need
We drive cars we can’t afford
We go to places social media says are cool
We invest in neighborhoods we don’t resonate with
We do drugs to feel better for the moment
We drink alcohol to forget
We consume destructive music and entertainment
We date people we don’t love
We stay friends with people who flake on us
We eat food with no nutritional value
We eat “healthy” food unfit for our designs
We overwork to avoid facing ourselves
We stay in careers we think we should be in
We escape to exotic destinations
We stay busy to feel important
We spend our time and energy on the wrong people
We blame our problems on other people
We hold on to our outdated beliefs really hard
Then we hit rock bottom
We realize we are not well
We have no idea who we are
None of these external factors makes us happy
We can’t keep escaping
We can’t keep going like this anymore
This is when we break
Everything we’ve held on to no longer works
We experience a massive amount of loss
In relationships, health, jobs, and things we own
The loss ends up working in our favor
It’s spring cleaning time
Everything that holds us back, is out
To create more space for new things to enter
We encounter people who challenge and test us
They are here to urge our growth
We encounter people who instantly feel like family
They are here to remind us we are not alone in our journeys
And that we deserve to love and be loved
We finally start facing ourselves
It’s uncomfortable
But we can’t go back
We have no other choice
So we keep going inward
The darkness of the tunnel feels like forever
Then we start seeing the light
We start remembering who we are
Who we want to be
Who we don’t want to be moving forward
What we like
What we don’t like
We realize all our problems stem from our childhoods
We revisit our painful pasts
We work through them with grace and courage
This time, we got this
Our awareness is on another level
We’ve been collecting the dots this whole time
We finally get to connect them
It’s time to feel whole
We’ve reached the state of inner peace
We accept where we are and who we are
We accept the painful pasts
We accept the wrongdoings of other people
We see ourselves in others
We surrender and love
