tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90322274033083205472024-03-05T03:25:02.847-08:00Life Being LittleForever a small fish in a big pondLife Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.comBlogger44125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-70639418048309882162023-02-27T03:18:00.000-08:002023-02-27T03:18:47.199-08:00To the Teachers of the Next<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgafO4g-FTTWAWB0SBubC_dkRxNZPyon9k4re-yA7QiNtgHpCaNRmzN0yvNmet0sYqQUCjvO9F3evbIfP6B4fYh7QdUN3DuiLBpMu5XTS74ZrSIABaBzH0xYhFW5j5UZsfTFOmr9nff6Iq_jpx2ntsauVg3Wwe0DZI8fAgpCzRyQPEnVhjRW7fbN4Ssow/s794/36ED8C3C-5F4D-47E0-A97B-EA54353CF814.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="528" data-original-width="794" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgafO4g-FTTWAWB0SBubC_dkRxNZPyon9k4re-yA7QiNtgHpCaNRmzN0yvNmet0sYqQUCjvO9F3evbIfP6B4fYh7QdUN3DuiLBpMu5XTS74ZrSIABaBzH0xYhFW5j5UZsfTFOmr9nff6Iq_jpx2ntsauVg3Wwe0DZI8fAgpCzRyQPEnVhjRW7fbN4Ssow/s16000/36ED8C3C-5F4D-47E0-A97B-EA54353CF814.webp" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">To the teachers of the next- a spoken word written for the teachers of the next generation of young people with Dwarfism.</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">To the Teachers of the next,</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">You need to hear me out. Now, my anger is not with you so I’ll try not to shout. </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">But hear me when I say, I’ve longed for this day- the day someone listens to what I have to say. Because I’ve been there and I know, more than most do- but I’m not the one with the power- that lies with you. </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I get that it’s scary- and you have targets to meet. But imagine how scary it is when you can’t reach your seat. Your peg. Your bag. The dinner hall chair- believe me it sucks because I’ve been there. </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I was too young back then, I couldn’t speak my mind. But I see it now because I’ve served my time: </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I learned the hard way. I hurt and I bled. </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">But there can be purpose to the tears that I shed.</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Learn from the past. Take what I say. Give them a path that shows them the way. </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">The way to a world where they can be who they are.</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Where the only limit they see is the sky and the stars.</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">It’s in what you do. Not just what you say. Because if you’re</span><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"> not committed to learn- trust that I’m not leading your way. </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">This isn’t a tick box. The responsibility won’t stop. After an Ofsted inspection or when your marks meet the top. </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Don’t do it because it’s a ‘given’. Do it with care- because without that- believe that we won’t get anywhere. </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">This journey ahead- is one I’ve walked for miles, it’ll continue for us but only be yours for a while. Make the impact you have, make you the one they remember.</span><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Do it with love. Not as a favour. To your representation- or the marks on a sheet. Because at the end of the day- you can still reach your seat. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">So with the kindest regards I’ll leave the rest up to you- if you call for my service trust that I’ll follow through. </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">But understand that I’ve already picked up my own heart- so don’t let history repeat. See harm has been done but you can set the next standards to meet. </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Be the adult </span><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">that I needed. Because we won’t have to fix what ain’t broke. Be the light that I needed. Lead the next- onto hope. </span></p>Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-11448816810234808172023-02-11T10:53:00.002-08:002023-02-11T10:54:55.592-08:00It’s not me. <p></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmAwFZJJaHH_LeSLGzBlgnDCP6O84G8UFlHJUVYg0-ZShMvqQBUXnaMqMBA3M92gw3J_obV7HKaXXmQKAXaVRXXg_-5mah4ADfKn4ftPP282NMlGhaHDa6B6yrYIzv4fkRwQf0RqSDtV5SYlg5wAo92ZI0s4geuvpZ6qz3rnIkrELFc420Gxp7WLThWA/s1170/A0D0ECEB-8118-41E6-9DA8-DE92125C80E6.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1138" data-original-width="1170" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmAwFZJJaHH_LeSLGzBlgnDCP6O84G8UFlHJUVYg0-ZShMvqQBUXnaMqMBA3M92gw3J_obV7HKaXXmQKAXaVRXXg_-5mah4ADfKn4ftPP282NMlGhaHDa6B6yrYIzv4fkRwQf0RqSDtV5SYlg5wAo92ZI0s4geuvpZ6qz3rnIkrELFc420Gxp7WLThWA/s320/A0D0ECEB-8118-41E6-9DA8-DE92125C80E6.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">They say you’re only dealt what you can handle, but what happens when what you’re trying to handle is you. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Trying to understand a body that doesn’t know what to do. </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">In a body of 5. A soul two decades older. </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">A tiny rock, in a world full of boulders. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">To you I’m the problem. The one that doesn’t fit in. But let it be known I’ve lived my whole life in this skin. I knew my body before I knew yours. If this isn’t normal- than what is I can’t be sure. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Is it measured in numbers, if so then 60 made me lose. Because that’s the only thing that separates me from you. 60 c m that’s all it took. If it was roles reverse would you let me off the hook? </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">See I know I was given the wrong body. Because my soul speaks fire- wanting things beyond even the 6ft desires. I wasn’t meant to be given a body so despaired- not when the soul it houses wouldn’t harm so much as a hair. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">If you met me blindfolded I think we’d be friends- but your sight is what blinds you, and causes harm in the end. You see it before me. I hear laughs before my own name- yet in this world we live in, discrimination is just a game. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Now it’s my responsibility, to grow thick skin, hang on- I couldn’t even grow full stop. Now let that sink in. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Think how it feels to at the age of 7 just stop. And watch all of your friends come out on top. 17 years I’ve had to learn to be small. In a body that wishes it could do it all. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">That’s how I know I was dealt the wrong card. Because when you give this much. It shouldn’t be this hard. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It’s not me that was meant to put up this guard. I was the one that was supposed to go far. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I was supposed to climb to the top. And by that I don’t mean the shelves in the shop. The hurdles weren’t supposed to be in the form of the simple. Some days I can’t understand it- not even a little. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Why it was me out of the 7 billion that ended up being a fluke. For decades this world believed I belonged in a zoo.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Those that came before me, fought through the circus and shows: but some days the streets still tell me that’s where to go. Understand I’m more qualified now before age 25- than some may see all the days their alive. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">No this body was not meant to be mine. But being different here isn’t the crime. So I’ll cry, scream and curse till no voice is left to hear- but no anger or frustration will make this disappear. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">So we’ll go about it. You do you. I’ll do me. </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Probably not meeting again in any of the places we see. And I’ll fight each day to overcome this trouble whilst the world around me still lives in a bubble. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">A bubble where normal means we look the same. Where the person is known more by their hair colour than even their name. </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">See it’s not me, that’s adding gas to the flames, because discrimination to me, ain’t no game. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">It wasn’t meant to be mine but this body you see- is not the problem, and the problem is not me. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s2" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleEmphasizedBody; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p>Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-89036432551190965782022-01-16T17:55:00.004-08:002022-01-16T17:55:54.890-08:00Just a word. Until it’s not. <p> ‘When a word becomes a label….’</p><p><br /></p><p>I’m usually one to stay quiet but I also know what I stand for, and abusive, hurtful comments ain’t it. </p><p><br /></p><p>Please take time to listen. And understand. It’s been one hell of a week. But I will never lose hope that education will win.</p><p><br /></p><p>❤️</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/BXIbx9QMiuM" width="320" youtube-src-id="BXIbx9QMiuM"></iframe></div><br /><p></p>Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-91341291195025354172021-10-30T18:57:00.005-07:002022-10-14T09:55:34.805-07:00We can’t act like it’s over. <p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEixcYQzwzchK7gG-MQsrCJaqYvDNQIcsWZ3wZR8enncGkEIeqhcxcXzwKqvKbAB2oalMcPPx70dq6oFoG-HJB5VU5n6uhnrdw2ebaRS-Ru2mtQ86aMmnxazKwPXQ2sZBA0zsmmyfMMsDlpmbP_tx8q1bnb3YUxpPOd_hqkXsFd4YXzN_BFco0o-bI_UhQ=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEixcYQzwzchK7gG-MQsrCJaqYvDNQIcsWZ3wZR8enncGkEIeqhcxcXzwKqvKbAB2oalMcPPx70dq6oFoG-HJB5VU5n6uhnrdw2ebaRS-Ru2mtQ86aMmnxazKwPXQ2sZBA0zsmmyfMMsDlpmbP_tx8q1bnb3YUxpPOd_hqkXsFd4YXzN_BFco0o-bI_UhQ=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif; font-size: 13pt;">Dwarfism Awareness Month falls on one month. 31 days we get trending. But then like most things, it falls under the surface again… but how many of you, who have shared our photos, retweeted our hashtags… or even brought my book. How many of you have a plan. A plan on what to do next. What to do when tomorrow comes, and everyone else has forgotten what we spent October fighting for. How many of you, have used this awareness month to really become aware?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif; font-size: 13pt;">Aware of how you could help to reach something off a shelf next time you see us in a shop. Aware how the language you use can help reform the opinions others form on us…. how you could help educate someone else… by sharing what you know… that’s if you really listened. Aware of how by starting a conversation you could have a ripple effect. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif; font-size: 13pt;">Are you aware of how much you’re needed. Needed, to make any of what we did this month really matter at all. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif; font-size: 13pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjefiwhlyHg224jHhV6-IRyY1oMtKoPj4XqazEepIB2SWCyMCzYtdIpi41ygc_5-1wN1QRoM6cEsOwkUIygSeT3mE0pXWK90xSe6aXNXxrfB7i-0LnRoAp7oG1zcqj13Kwk0BlFJ0mmT8RM5nYRcY-1Wzi0RY8csAYCTSjWSrPcTpvaszi-i3sel1wO3g=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjefiwhlyHg224jHhV6-IRyY1oMtKoPj4XqazEepIB2SWCyMCzYtdIpi41ygc_5-1wN1QRoM6cEsOwkUIygSeT3mE0pXWK90xSe6aXNXxrfB7i-0LnRoAp7oG1zcqj13Kwk0BlFJ0mmT8RM5nYRcY-1Wzi0RY8csAYCTSjWSrPcTpvaszi-i3sel1wO3g=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 20.3px;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif; font-size: 13pt;">Dwarfism Awareness Month is over. But for 7,000 of us in the UK, it’s October every day in our world- everyday that we come across someone who’s never seen one of us before. Every day we enter a building we know is out of our reach. Every day that we live in a world where science hasn’t figured us out yet- and society still loves to laugh and joke.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm; min-height: 20.3px;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif; font-size: 13pt;">Until there’s a day, where October isn’t needed- that’s how long we need you. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm; min-height: 20.3px;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif; font-size: 13pt;">So…. What’s your plan. <o:p></o:p></span></p>Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-23555369713551060292021-01-10T07:47:00.002-08:002022-10-14T09:57:03.518-07:00Dwarfism- a whatever fits style; Collab with Chamiah Dewey Fashion<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6dl7PLdSfP1Qp7BoA__e_TgLQjXRWuxPOeRXQMdFFSMTvVHZkqPO5mgjAmrl_o1F6KCA_e82p8QLJg6pc2feK3G8Con-WkEJiL-YS3pUdGsioIrqbBbU1IUm7hes-JdlBqTCfhfP4grRL/s541/69306640_10156538835972006_106950320667492352_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="541" data-original-width="540" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6dl7PLdSfP1Qp7BoA__e_TgLQjXRWuxPOeRXQMdFFSMTvVHZkqPO5mgjAmrl_o1F6KCA_e82p8QLJg6pc2feK3G8Con-WkEJiL-YS3pUdGsioIrqbBbU1IUm7hes-JdlBqTCfhfP4grRL/s320/69306640_10156538835972006_106950320667492352_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">Since I can remember, clothing has always been one of the hardest things I associate with my condition, and something which in my teen years especially, was a pinpoint to my insecurities. Being 22 years old, in a body built for a 6-year-old, it's fair to say I am past the days of flashing trainers and pink tights. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">But to find something out of that range without going down the root of tailor-made items, which I think my student bank account would be mortified at- is well.... hard. As is the feeling that you're missing out. Girlie shopping days don't have the same feeling when you know you can't just pick something off a shelf. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;">My condition is Achondroplasia- the most common form of Dwarfism. Achondroplasia affects bone growth- particularly in limbs. Meaning we have short arms and legs (particularly short upper arms and thighs), that being said, my torso is as near to average, so t-shirts, hoodies etc... whilst often looking very oversized, can sometimes be gotten away with... that is if they don't have sleeves. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif;"> </span></p><b><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Sleeves are a no go. </span></b></div><div><span></span><b><br /></b></div><div><span><a name='more'></a></span><b><br /></b></div><div>It's for this reason that my wardrobe has probably looked the same since my late teens, when I do find something that fits, like.... properly fits. I wear where the death out of it before even considering replacing, because frankly those moments are too limited to see pass by without getting full use. I have definitely adopted a 'whatever fits' style, meaning most of the clothes I wear because I can, not solely because I want to. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgivLBX8Reazt24Zbu0mEsout795Cmo57We33-5U-K6VqJQq3SnKgZQUnu0qb3UtVpz8_zHfjb96KWbeS9R7uYB3oUG4fqhTo1GbV_dsT9s7FUWEqajprsBolFja5dpJQTTn0Cvaq9XzWrZ/s2048/375A5107-n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1463" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgivLBX8Reazt24Zbu0mEsout795Cmo57We33-5U-K6VqJQq3SnKgZQUnu0qb3UtVpz8_zHfjb96KWbeS9R7uYB3oUG4fqhTo1GbV_dsT9s7FUWEqajprsBolFja5dpJQTTn0Cvaq9XzWrZ/w286-h400/375A5107-n.jpg" width="286" /></a></div><br /><div>It is this exact reason why I was so excited to hear about a new project- delivered by Chamiah Dewey, which is looking to bring a new brand to the markets- sustainable, inclusive, and adaptive to cater to those with restricted growth. </div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>INTRODUCING CHAMIAH; </b></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwcRdOqTE4kOvFZJoxjRfJPv2JaIsnQxYeVKFV-dFfeVdAp8p6w2IsrA7WmUFTMq3h7OdOsYnHv0Dqo_ezH-x3-uouvcGPI1oNUbVLqu59-YPabIZo69hu0NdKOYz7CqNCip_gfT8MJzVb/s1080/131022210_219761879674599_2245478506608483533_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwcRdOqTE4kOvFZJoxjRfJPv2JaIsnQxYeVKFV-dFfeVdAp8p6w2IsrA7WmUFTMq3h7OdOsYnHv0Dqo_ezH-x3-uouvcGPI1oNUbVLqu59-YPabIZo69hu0NdKOYz7CqNCip_gfT8MJzVb/w400-h400/131022210_219761879674599_2245478506608483533_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>"Hello! My name is Chamiah Dewey, I am a 22-year-old student and entrepreneur living in London. I</div><div><div>study Fashion Design and Development at London College of Fashion; currently studying on the</div><div>Enterprise Diploma in Professional Studies as my placement year. The aim of the placement is to</div><div>facilitate the acceleration of an idea into a resilient proposition, culminating an MVP (minimum</div><div>viable product) to take to the market in the summer of 2021.</div><div><br /></div><div>Chamiah Dewey, the brand, will be a sustainable, inclusive, and adaptive womenswear brand that</div><div>aims to make dressing more enjoyable for women with disability and dwarfism/restricted growth:</div><div>These will be specialist collections, developed with an extensive background of research, designed</div><div>specifically for the different bodies and abilities, with their wants and needs in mind. The collections</div><div>will be seasonal: Autumn/winter and spring/summer, they will consist of fashion staples and classics,</div><div>loosely influenced by British trends and the community themselves. We are also curating a</div><div>community of women on social media to uplift, empower and talk openly about fashion, its</div><div>challenges, and triumphs." </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAZaNkc9YrLaEHInLXmPcjKJrscWAgrxFou2iYdWVvXkkNsTwaIJosc6BwBrjV-3l6TnqF1XdCLAecxtEsLoApEg7DlIdEUcM0KYv3KtgvIav0Jha4K347t9wrXbcURfDoBlMWx_4uV0em/s1000/127483207_208388670811920_6916508232869732422_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAZaNkc9YrLaEHInLXmPcjKJrscWAgrxFou2iYdWVvXkkNsTwaIJosc6BwBrjV-3l6TnqF1XdCLAecxtEsLoApEg7DlIdEUcM0KYv3KtgvIav0Jha4K347t9wrXbcURfDoBlMWx_4uV0em/w400-h400/127483207_208388670811920_6916508232869732422_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><h2 style="text-align: left;"><b>BUT WE NEED YOU!</b></h2><div><br /></div><div>Currently, Chamiah Dewey is asking women with achondroplasia to complete our measurement</div><div>audit: a series of 23 measurements that will aid us in developing an inclusive LP-size chart to ensure</div><div>our garments fit like a glove, not just in length but to the contours of the body.</div><div><br /></div><div> The measurements will also be used in the creation of the world's 1st bespoke little female, tailor’s mannequin, used for creating beautiful garments that can be cherished forever; it will be based on an average ‘size’ and adorned with padding for larger figures. Without these measurements, the development of garments and an accurate size chart will take much longer and many alterations – it will also mean that a bespoke mannequin isn’t possible, again, meaning that the development of accurate clothing will take much longer. </div><div><br /></div><h4 style="text-align: left;">We are aiming to gather at least 100 measurements to base this off, so far, we have 7. </h4><div><br /></div><div>As an incentive, Chamiah DEWEY is offering everyone who sends in their measurements will be added to a giveaway raffle to win a piece of the collection in their size (Summer 2021). </div></div><div><br /></div><div>SO WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR? </div><div><br /></div><div>All measurements required and details go get involved can be found on the link below; </div><div><a href="goog_240822349"><br /></a></div><div><a href="https://onedrive.live.com/view.aspx?resid=9C00A14FA2880044!1785&ithint=file%2Cxlsx&authkey=!AJpNSgg0VJEHujw&fbclid=IwAR0YmkUKNaM8d7yxJjFp8cuCh2IjNVBWyJZduEe82lDFL16QotbhTRDVZ40">https://onedrive.live.com/view.aspx?resid=9C00A14FA2880044!1785&ithint=file%2Cxlsx&authkey=!AJpNSgg0VJEHujw&fbclid=IwAR0YmkUKNaM8d7yxJjFp8cuCh2IjNVBWyJZduEe82lDFL16QotbhTRDVZ40</a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipFmcv34-q9213yUP6yZhPeXLSt8mEYLNeru4ARHWoLOSWJKfN3Eog04dtv9v_ox4Up5ryVaorPnrFC4Rt5bf4oWVzv1cJBS-pEo1OHtnjAPdXDXKnegLtBEg_GF1OK6_REZrN8GEEqV_u/s750/137321599_755858278621402_3949293465332884271_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="747" data-original-width="750" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipFmcv34-q9213yUP6yZhPeXLSt8mEYLNeru4ARHWoLOSWJKfN3Eog04dtv9v_ox4Up5ryVaorPnrFC4Rt5bf4oWVzv1cJBS-pEo1OHtnjAPdXDXKnegLtBEg_GF1OK6_REZrN8GEEqV_u/w400-h398/137321599_755858278621402_3949293465332884271_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As a little person, the thought of fashion being made accessible and no different for me than my average high friends and family is something that used to be something only imaginable, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">we now have the opportunity to bring it to life. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">For more information contact: <span face=""Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #65676b; font-size: 17px; text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/chamiahdeweyfashion" target="_blank">@chamiahdeweyfashion</a> on Facebook.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div>Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-64107451633157484972020-12-16T09:24:00.005-08:002022-10-14T09:57:49.718-07:0016.12.18<p> 15.12.18- 1pm- "My headache isn't shifting, I'm going to go lie down."</p><p>15.12.18- 10pm- "Did I really sleep that long? I feel awful. Mum, I can't see properly."</p><p>16.12.18- 1am- **First round of blood tests at the Emergency department**</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7igZ7kC3vmDzKemTJA9GwoxYGyEdvzZfO8CeZx5VtsWBo472XLg6aMicA0bK3Se37-pmU5RrKyWGRdJ4T87ulfNXU7jeecpKc5HVCNGfGrza_Y_wZpH70dBrXk98g5L2WiSPMi-n7K8Gu/s960/48363949_2628942337123413_4016209173866872832_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="461" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7igZ7kC3vmDzKemTJA9GwoxYGyEdvzZfO8CeZx5VtsWBo472XLg6aMicA0bK3Se37-pmU5RrKyWGRdJ4T87ulfNXU7jeecpKc5HVCNGfGrza_Y_wZpH70dBrXk98g5L2WiSPMi-n7K8Gu/w345-h461/48363949_2628942337123413_4016209173866872832_n.jpg" width="345" /></a></div><br /><p>It was that fast. And in many ways it feels like a blur- I don't remember what was said. I don't really remember what happened. But I remember exactly how I felt. </p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p><p>Scared. </p><p>16th December 2018- after a period of pain episodes, headaches, tiredness, nausea, sickness- and generally feeling like my body had been dragged through WW3... at 1am I was admitted to the hospital.</p><p> I kept telling myself it was nothing. I'm being dramatic- my anxiety is making it feel worse than it is. I'm tired. I'm stressed. I stayed up too late- No mum I don't need pjamas- I'll be home by 3am. </p><p>3am- "Danielle- We're taking you down for an emergency brain scan, it's ok you're going to be ok"</p><p>Those are about the only words I remember from the whole process. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWXhiUT5nj4W6rULDHDJvQ7UjClvDik2KWrGABj7IoH9zUD0j98b15_4uRZlUiJ_KN5KBNKPOykAoAMW6_sLbroduPpfhAj30WVzWIl_vW50cJmyqoMlk5D22XdHf0Qv2DlS7MogKjANmy/s1440/48357811_10155998010962006_1734082535975026688_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWXhiUT5nj4W6rULDHDJvQ7UjClvDik2KWrGABj7IoH9zUD0j98b15_4uRZlUiJ_KN5KBNKPOykAoAMW6_sLbroduPpfhAj30WVzWIl_vW50cJmyqoMlk5D22XdHf0Qv2DlS7MogKjANmy/w452-h452/48357811_10155998010962006_1734082535975026688_o.jpg" width="452" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>--That and screaming at the poor doctor who had the job of trying to take my bloods- and failed 6 times, from veins so small they were near enough invisible- I cried. Big time. Partly due to my fear of needles- but partly down to the fact that despite being told otherwise. I very much didn't feel ok. In fact, at that moment. I didn't think I would feel ok again. </p><p>Now there's not much I'm scared of... I mean I would probably also cry should I be put on the top of a cliff 1000ft up or if you put a spider anywhere in 100km of me... but that aside, I'm pretty thick-skinned- or at least I thought I was. But at 3am- In a CT machine, with the sounds of hospital corridors and sirens surrounding me- I felt anything but tough. </p><p>My body felt so tired. My mind was fogged yet so alert. Everything hurt yet was also so numb. My breathing felt so heavy yet there were moments I couldn't seem to catch a breath. I silently cried as doctors spoke through the microphones trying to make small talk as this machine scanned and searched my body for whatever it was they were looking for. 20 minutes. and each of those minutes could've lasted an hour for what it felt like.</p><p>The hospital was busy.... it was loud. Chaotic. Surrounded by people. Yet I remember the whole process as if I was alone- only with the occasional voice popping and offering meaningless words of reassurance, or painkillers which by the 4th round didn't really do much other than leave an after-taste which I do my best to try not to remember!....</p><p>They all meant well. But the tired, emotional, 4ft me, wasn't very welcoming of the advice of a 6ft doctor. I didn't want to hear it. I almost hoped they didn't find the answer- I didn't want to know. Because surely what I don't know can't hurt me right? Either way- at least if I didn't know I could at least pretend it was that way. </p><p>5am. </p><p><b>Hydrocephalus </b></p><p>I'm sorry Hydo-who the, what now? </p><p>Hydrocephalus. Fluid on the brain. We need to run some tests, you're going to stay here tonight.</p><p>No no, you've got it wrong. I have dwarfism. I am small. Achondroplasia. Short limbs. That's it. My condition means I'm small. My legs. Arms. They hurt, they're wrong but nothing else. I don't have anything else. I can't have anything else. </p><p>What did I do wrong? </p><p>Was it my fault? Had I not had been careful- maybe if I had paid more attention in Science class? Eaten healthier.... Went running... all these thoughts... they were just jumbled words strung together. Trying to find some reasonable excuse for all of this. I wanted something to blame. I wanted it to be the fault of someone, or something.... something that could be fixed. Apologised for. Undone. Made up for. Taken away. Give me the problem and tell me how it can be fixed.</p><p>I mean it can be fixed right? </p><p>11 hours. 6 medication doses. 5 needles. 4 doctors and an emergency CT scan later.</p><p> I got discharged.</p><p>And so began an 10-month journey of referrals, infections, injections, tissue tear, and a fracture to the spine thrown in for good measure...things weren't fixed- but they started to..... in time... It was a push. Like cycling up a mountain sort of push.</p><p>But I was still scared. </p><p>My body was moving on, but my mind not so much... What if it happened again? Every headache. Every sick day. Every feeling of pain sparked the thought that what if it was beginning all over again. My journey of recovery didn't end at the physical elements.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaFeclBys22IWHvV2oesuWFZREPMaDbwhBrcGB10P9USK08emEDgisPr9MYBwy_HNML7mKSd8yJOwMmyBeCDsUvnWnGAFiE3P0yn8xBN39mP2BDU21xx43Ab6Xwo650khS0G8snAXMVFi-/s960/48310030_10155998102812006_1797332174291075072_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaFeclBys22IWHvV2oesuWFZREPMaDbwhBrcGB10P9USK08emEDgisPr9MYBwy_HNML7mKSd8yJOwMmyBeCDsUvnWnGAFiE3P0yn8xBN39mP2BDU21xx43Ab6Xwo650khS0G8snAXMVFi-/w334-h444/48310030_10155998102812006_1797332174291075072_n.jpg" width="334" /></a></div><p>Often we expect ourselves to bounce back, assume that we should get over something quicker than the universe has in mind. But a journey of this sort, is a marathon, not a sprint;... it requires training, commitment, and a few set backs to know where you're at. I see now how guilty I was for exactly that. I expected too much. Too much of my body.... as if the word discharge has caused remaculous healing. </p><p>That because, I didn't have medical terms or labels hanging over my every move that suddenly I would slip back into normality- getting by every day as everyone else did. I had no reason to find it hard anymore. There was nothing wrong. </p><p>Which was true. There wasn't anything WRONG. </p><p>I hadn't done anything wrong. and no part of my life or my body was WRONG. </p><p>But it was different to some. </p><p>Different that's all. </p><p>And as a result of this difference... there were things that brought hurdles. There were things that caused struggles. There were things that gave me every reason to not always be 100% all of the time. 1 of these things was the concept that in a short time, my body had been expected to react and respond to numerous events, that even medical professionals didn't have all the answers for- and when I think of it like that, surely I have to cut myself some slack for sometimes feeling c***?</p><p>But The other thing..... </p><p>Was that I'm human. And as much as I may want to convince myself that I'm unstoppable, unbeatable.... ultra- resilient... I bleed. I cry. I hurt. The same as even those who were treating and caring for me. </p><p>We're all human. And we don't have all the answers... not me... not you.... not the medical professionals who stayed with me that night- and I mean.... they're smart!... but not even they had it all.</p><p>So if they don't. Surely we can allow ourselves not to either?</p><p>Allows ourselves to be Scared. Helpless. Anxious. Fed up. Angry. I mean if there's anything that the endless amounts of social development theory books I've read during 4 years of University is that, if those feelings weren't meant to be felt. They wouldn't exist. </p><p>If support wasn't needed. Many jobs wouldn't exist either- including mine. </p><p>If everyone knew everything at once...In fact, many aspects of this world wouldn't be needed.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZdokB6QMMVsf-AY30J9oAGlT-p2xGDrLTSswY5e49rG1IH2Mx4WSBgmiZ9NZHEhOzaCc2ByF5vtYQlTufZxdL24yEFRR1grEqYwfjW5_UL3kUmm5qjh1f_q4DOmzvTokBCnLXLiI7rauB/s960/80492539_3611790315505272_2828054244349706240_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZdokB6QMMVsf-AY30J9oAGlT-p2xGDrLTSswY5e49rG1IH2Mx4WSBgmiZ9NZHEhOzaCc2ByF5vtYQlTufZxdL24yEFRR1grEqYwfjW5_UL3kUmm5qjh1f_q4DOmzvTokBCnLXLiI7rauB/w474-h474/80492539_3611790315505272_2828054244349706240_n.jpg" width="474" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><b>Someone told me not so long ago... that one of the biggest mistakes we make is expecting ourselves to have it all at once. </b></p><p>Whether it's when learning something new or building a new career.... we want to be good straight away. We want all of the glory now. We want to be better. </p><p>I wanted to be better. </p><p>Right there. </p><p>I see now the expectation I held on myself, the unrealistic expectation at that. Because how could I know it all, when I was still discovering everyday things I needed to know. I was still learning how my body reacted. How my body required me to function. The strength that was required to do all that I wanted to do.... just in a body that sometimes refused... </p><p>I'm still learning now. Two years on. </p><p>I don't have the answers, and more often than not.... just when I think I do, something else comes along to prove me otherwise. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiga2q83wqTuWbXo34xbUKVrTsYOzh-MYBOh_XZU_KsVkpCpnWXJZb7175ITNs2wsVuk-eGwLpBhjIcYO5vXPxAlFIiRNroKZnVZdDaxZNN2oxb0YmAnNbNyBlJ4MVla9cSLqaM4bddo7yX/s960/82715560_3690723640945272_2911606699880087552_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="411" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiga2q83wqTuWbXo34xbUKVrTsYOzh-MYBOh_XZU_KsVkpCpnWXJZb7175ITNs2wsVuk-eGwLpBhjIcYO5vXPxAlFIiRNroKZnVZdDaxZNN2oxb0YmAnNbNyBlJ4MVla9cSLqaM4bddo7yX/w550-h411/82715560_3690723640945272_2911606699880087552_n.jpg" width="550" /></a></div><br /><p>So the truth is... yes... </p><p>It's still pretty scary. The thought- that my body will go down that path again as quickly as it did before. The thought that if I let my guard down, acknowledge the good.... that someone is going to take it away.</p><p>The fact that... I have a body built for a 6-year-old, trying to keep up with the demands of being 22. </p><p>But do you want to know the other truth that I've learned? </p><p><b>Is that it's ok. </b></p><p>Those fears aren't a sign of weakness, more so of knowledge. Experience. Reality. My mind has acknowledged what's happened and has created its own guard- it's way or preparation almost... SHOULD it ever be in a position again. </p><p><b>But that's ok.</b></p><p><b>And only when I acknowledged that- did recovery begin.</b></p><p>It's now 16/12/2020. </p><p>And I haven't stepped foot into even a waiting room of a hospital for 11 whole months- the longest duration in my life.</p><p>Graduate. Comms Officer. Dancer. MA student... it's these terms that are starting to define me more now- than any terminology once did. </p><p>It didn't happen overnight. Bouncing back didn't happen as fast as the process itself- whilst I wish it did.</p><p>And some days, there was no bounce at all. But that's ok.</p><p>Because what I've learned through all of this is that;</p><p>Things don't need to be sunshine and rainbows for things to be ok. </p><p>You don't need to have it all together all of the time for thing to be ok.</p><p>You don't have to have all the answers to be ok either. </p><p>All we need to be is exactly where we are now...... wherever that may be.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4k03kUv-h8oPP30Wf1xGXE49vAmn-ABi-IlsDNZYgRu8D-Wr5_PWUqyh4ohG5rnpBxqZvvtksEY-tUJLdwwr5QUu3_JywGCiEyanR7e4I9jdz6W0alY9x_lHUXV2xp22_v4dYPinUvwZ/s960/69306640_10156538835972006_106950320667492352_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4k03kUv-h8oPP30Wf1xGXE49vAmn-ABi-IlsDNZYgRu8D-Wr5_PWUqyh4ohG5rnpBxqZvvtksEY-tUJLdwwr5QUu3_JywGCiEyanR7e4I9jdz6W0alY9x_lHUXV2xp22_v4dYPinUvwZ/w420-h560/69306640_10156538835972006_106950320667492352_n.jpg" width="420" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-5197054429530080482020-07-21T08:00:00.001-07:002020-09-29T16:25:59.099-07:00Not what I had in mind<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">And just like that.... 3 years done. </span><br />
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A journey that felt like it was over in a blink… but also
one I feel I have traveled for a lifetime. My BAhons degree in Youth and
Community Work, complete.<br />
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It’s fair to say the finishing of this journey, represents
how the whole road has been…. “Not what I had in mind. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I never thought for one moment I would be graduating in the
mist of a pandemic with the only moments of celebration with friends, shared
through a phone screen. <o:p></o:p></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div>
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I never imagined my last semester would take place with my
kitchen as my classroom.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I never thought when I left for a lunch break, I'd return to find my university closed. </div>
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I never thought the things I'd dreamed of, the perfect ending every student pictures... the moments of glory... the gown.... the tassel... I never thought in one moment, all of that could be taken away. (Momentarily at least)</div>
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17 weeks ago... I wondered if I was strong enough, Strong enough to do, what graduating in the midst of a pandemic would require me to do. This wasn't what I had in mind. I was scared and anxious as to how I was going to get through. This wasn't what was supposed to happen... This wasn't the outcome I had prepared for... and I wasn't sure if it was one I was strong enough for. The journey was far from easy, and I say that because sometimes we are given the impression that it will be... sometimes when all we see is those moments of glory and celebrations, we are hidden from the reality of the sacrifice and determination that took place- we are misled to think that others find it so easy, only because we are in fact protected from their struggles. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">If graduating in a pandemic taught me anything, it's that. Nothing is easy. Not if it's really worth having anyway!... but also, if you want it that much, that you don't need it to be. All you need is hard work, and the feeling of knowing that even when something isn't what you had in mind, still you are going to finish what you started. What you deserve. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">So I may not have got the university experience that the teenager me once fantasised, but I did however gain an experience that taught me- that if I can finish a degree that seen me through 25 hospital visits,
12 infections, 10 needles, 9 medical scans,
8 injuries, 6 new medical diagnosis’s, 5 job roles,
3 work placements, 2 homes, finishing with
1 dissertation in the midst of a world pandemic... then I can just about do anything. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br /></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>Even the things- I never had in mind.</b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-14275842786705945112020-06-23T16:20:00.002-07:002020-06-23T16:21:19.027-07:00MY FIRST BLOG POST- 2014 Flashback<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My very first blog post; written 2nd May 2014.<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Growing up without being able to grow.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Teenage life is never easy but living in a world built for people twice my size brings extra challenges. My form of dwarfism Achondroplasia means that at just 3ft 11, I am much shorter than my friends, family and classmates. It wasn't till I was reaching the end of my second year in primary school that I started to notice the extent of the size difference between myself and my classmates. As they grew it was becoming apparent that I wasn't. I remember going home asking my mum why. As you can imagine it was a hard question to answer for my mum and like any six year old, I wasn't quite sure what I was being told. No matter how many times I got told, no matter how many times it was explained, it never quite sunk in. Why was I different? And why was no one else different? By the time I reached the age of 9, I was well aware of my size and my condition however it was something that never got mentioned, even in my family it wasn't something that got talked about, In a way, I saw that as a positive. My family saw me as me and so did my friends but as my time at primary school was coming to an end, I started to wonder what people like me were going through. Did people like me even exist? </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">In my world it was only me, with no contact with any other families like ours and any people like me, it felt isolating. Like I was alone. Ever heard the story of the ugly duckling? Well, I was feeling very much like that duckling. As time went on, my fear grew, how was I supposed to grow up if I couldn’t grow and more to the point, how could I do it alone? When I joined secondary school in 2010 my world was upturned, no longer was I in the comfort in my 300 pupil primary school but I was now in a 2000 pupil secondary. For the first time in my life, I found myself going home in tears, waking up in fear and wishing that I could change, wishing that things would change. I was surrounded by people but I had never felt so alone. It not only affected my confidence but it also affected my health. Gone was the happy full of life girl, who my family and friends once knew, I don’t think they really knew me at that point. And if I’m honest, I didn’t even know myself. The phrase “what they don’t know, won’t hurt them” is well known and in my case well used. For years I had experienced laughs, points, and comments both in school and on the street but as a child how was I supposed to know what it meant. Well at the age of 11 I was learning quite well what it meant and once I knew, I was hurt. With the knowledge of being seen as a weirdo, a freak, a laughing stock constantly in my mind I lost the power to smile and walk on. I lost confidence in myself and what was worse... I believed them; I believed what they were saying. Every word. If everyone is telling you you’re a freak surely they can’t all be wrong, everything my family and friends have told me about being unique and special were they lying? Was I really the freak that so many claim I was? Was this really how my life was going to be...? Something had to change but the thing was I knew I couldn't. I couldn't change who I was, but was there a way I could change how I felt.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">In February 2012 I looked for comfort in an organisation that was just starting up... Little People UK aimed to support people with dwarfism their friends and their families... Could this be what I had been looking for? Could this be the change that needed to happen? Well, there was only one way to find out...It’s now 2014, and after just celebrating our 2nd birthday, Little People UK has over 500 members and is now a registered charity. Since their first get together both me and my family have worked closely with the charity and as fund-raisers and committee members we are very much involved. LPUK turned out to be exactly what I needed but it wasn’t the change I was looking for. LPUK didn’t change things, but they changed me and I changed things. That was the change I needed so badly, it wasn’t the people around me, it was the person within me. With the knowledge of knowing I wasn’t alone and that I wasn’t a freak or a weirdo, my confidence began to grow. I never got my old self back but I found my new self... My real self.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> If you look around at where I am today, to an extent nothing has changed. I still get laughed at, pointed at, treated like a freak but one thing for sure has changed. I no longer believe them, I believe myself. I may have had to learn the hard way and my childhood was not the easiest of rides but looking back I wouldn’t change anything. Before I had always seen myself as my disability now I’m starting to discover the person within. I will never be able to change what I am but maybe it’s not me that has to. My disability doesn’t stop me from doing anything, as I go into my last year in school and start planning to move onto college and thinking about possible careers I know that I have a future however the people who put me down maybe won’t be so lucky. People see me as disabled but maybe I’m not the disabled one. I have a condition which means I have a physical difference... that’s it! But if you look at it from another perspective the real disability isn’t what’s on the outside it’s what lays within and in that case maybe it isn’t me that’s disabled! My condition isn’t going to influence my future as far as succeeding goes however being a bully might. For years I felt sorry for myself, felt like I was the victim and that I was the one that had it hard but really I should’ve felt sorry for them, I should have felt sorry at the fact that they would grow up being immature and judgemental and that they wouldn’t ever realise.. well until it’s too late. I still have bad days, I still have wobbles, I cry and at times I wish things were different. But I know that deep down I don’t want things to be different, I wouldn’t be who I am if things were different. I am who I am because I am different... Maybe I’m growing up without being able to grow, but I’m growing up with the confidence, the maturity and determination to succeed. The bullies, however... well I’ll let you imagine how that story ends.</span></div>
Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-53556050871887940402020-06-18T17:14:00.003-07:002020-06-18T18:48:32.328-07:0021 life lessons in my 21 years<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU3JT59dLHcPGBclVXXNGSqfvEvc9ilHm4ivwAdY_fO8fhm3ICnkUNLlNGeQYgJlEgvBw8luLMwHTvld-h0XB9wZED7lFa6DqAdbC0v-PnkfaHOIw56FN0bAVZ4gvkXpquUBJUqNornkvr/s1600/74477102_3535665839784387_1372337343511396352_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU3JT59dLHcPGBclVXXNGSqfvEvc9ilHm4ivwAdY_fO8fhm3ICnkUNLlNGeQYgJlEgvBw8luLMwHTvld-h0XB9wZED7lFa6DqAdbC0v-PnkfaHOIw56FN0bAVZ4gvkXpquUBJUqNornkvr/s640/74477102_3535665839784387_1372337343511396352_n.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1. Not everyone you meet is going to treat you nicely. But that should never stop you from being nice. You never know, it might rub off on them, and if not, it says more about them than it does you. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">2. Life will always throw spanners in the works; usually, just at the moment you feel your masterpiece is coming together. But just like you have done a thousand times before; you'll work this out too. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">3. Sometimes rejection is life's way of saying; you're capable of more than you're aiming for.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">4. There's not much that can't be solved with good friends by your side.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCIm-Exr2Gpu0N7TR1iehe4ZA6Q8bt94N_qQiBK0NuM64aRuZZ9lz8O-kAa_VrtK12oXHOBSTaTZlIV874IyP4yq9fdKfEN2GPUnAda0RDnNttRncl_m9o3laV1Edae1q7N1g5H_Odc-CB/s1600/66290976_3132577850093190_1352988391288864768_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" data-original-height="733" data-original-width="750" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCIm-Exr2Gpu0N7TR1iehe4ZA6Q8bt94N_qQiBK0NuM64aRuZZ9lz8O-kAa_VrtK12oXHOBSTaTZlIV874IyP4yq9fdKfEN2GPUnAda0RDnNttRncl_m9o3laV1Edae1q7N1g5H_Odc-CB/s320/66290976_3132577850093190_1352988391288864768_n.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">5. Not everyone you see has it together. Even if social media paints it that way. Everyone is fighting a battle we know nothing about; all the more reason to be kind. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">6. Nothing worth having.... ever comes at an ease. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">7. The best memories are often the ones that happen most unexpectedly.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVQhh8u34yzZ57ZollrSeQ1ecE0exX8hLFnezf686FjAt-I9v3JtwqsWDEX_whoq0X6pv3p3BKJpho8m5vga6qVrCNe3agIPntZ6Ob4j_bH2pgbwBYm-I6UGD_7YZbYkpczRX5TuXYGLGy/s1600/IMG_0228.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVQhh8u34yzZ57ZollrSeQ1ecE0exX8hLFnezf686FjAt-I9v3JtwqsWDEX_whoq0X6pv3p3BKJpho8m5vga6qVrCNe3agIPntZ6Ob4j_bH2pgbwBYm-I6UGD_7YZbYkpczRX5TuXYGLGy/s400/IMG_0228.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">8. Many people will tell you, you can't. Often they're the ones secretly wishing they could. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">9. You only get one go at this thing called 'life', so the things you're putting off... when will it ever be the 'right time'? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">10. You don't have to always do, what everyone else is doing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">11. There's a lot of bad things happening in the world right now, a lot of which we can't control, yet we must never underestimate our ability to make a difference. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7S4IXA-Xygmrb9pg94Yunav3LCbTKNa7fbZ325719RZnGCRtfDjWTSr0nQr6wQYLZtsYbBKywcTAzpRhgiRlfPEOQGmG6cptB9KKu8QVPjuAX7mmxgo1K4khqDHKQ5azY0hg3gMTUUHpT/s1600/17309237_1605887912762199_6486441896119351343_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="540" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7S4IXA-Xygmrb9pg94Yunav3LCbTKNa7fbZ325719RZnGCRtfDjWTSr0nQr6wQYLZtsYbBKywcTAzpRhgiRlfPEOQGmG6cptB9KKu8QVPjuAX7mmxgo1K4khqDHKQ5azY0hg3gMTUUHpT/s400/17309237_1605887912762199_6486441896119351343_n.jpg" width="225" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">12. We must treat others how we would wish to be treated; not always how we ourselves are treated. Two wrongs never make a right. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">13. No dream is ever too big; for those who are crazy enough to dream it in the first place. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">14. Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, we must learn to DANCE in the rain,</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin_QDWyYVQIaxtPVuN3I_DQhSv7UwZ5yloHhQFZeT7EMw2rMgu_OsE0w0sHLcRiA8WWCtWXfPAudsasZU8_7dGDkTaiKgp-jrhVPKwAdScYSs-pgVG4Z_nvAgM9ilNyrtHGBDrFiWbTMsu/s1600/44929416_247570815925939_2086726937551568896_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin_QDWyYVQIaxtPVuN3I_DQhSv7UwZ5yloHhQFZeT7EMw2rMgu_OsE0w0sHLcRiA8WWCtWXfPAudsasZU8_7dGDkTaiKgp-jrhVPKwAdScYSs-pgVG4Z_nvAgM9ilNyrtHGBDrFiWbTMsu/s400/44929416_247570815925939_2086726937551568896_n.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">15. Speaking of DANCE. Do it like nobody's watching; half the time they aren't anyway.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">16. At the times you most feel like giving up, is usually when you're closest to achieving your goal. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">17. Life is scary. And it's ok to admit it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">18. You're not always ready for what life throws at you, or for the journeys you may choose to embark on, but that doesn't mean you're not capable. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">19. MIND OVER MATTER; Those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter.... you will never please everyone. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">20. It's okay to not always be okay. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv7cP-ALPKC2f87TCcd1FMy8ZTrE4rXCLxH04VDscesZadnJ41CDFd4c-_s2wQStkduOhlHmgKZmEfneqVrJODaraTQ11MCsyakO41fSOy0P3-wXUfOs7hVnnyKAOPXvHu6s80DztWrjPh/s1600/83408012_3761527373864898_6682723912893071360_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="685" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv7cP-ALPKC2f87TCcd1FMy8ZTrE4rXCLxH04VDscesZadnJ41CDFd4c-_s2wQStkduOhlHmgKZmEfneqVrJODaraTQ11MCsyakO41fSOy0P3-wXUfOs7hVnnyKAOPXvHu6s80DztWrjPh/s400/83408012_3761527373864898_6682723912893071360_o.jpg" width="285" /></span></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">21. To be yourself in a world that tries to make you into someone else is the most powerful quality any of us can show.</span></b></div>
Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-13090858814236566672020-06-13T18:58:00.000-07:002020-06-18T18:49:03.652-07:00Bitter VS Better <div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">From a young age, I
have clear memories of being shamed for my body image and size. From the
innocence of my reception classmates saying I “looked funny”..... to the
15-year-olds shouting “freak” down the secondary school corridors. Be it right
or not, I guess you can say “I’m used to it”, so more times than not I brush it
off... cold shoulder, because frankly there are not enough hours in the day to
give attention to every person who stares at you as you walk down the street,
I’ve mastered the brave face. But that doesn’t mean I always want to use it. I
don't always want to say I'm used to it...</span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #454545; line-height: 107%;">When I was 15,
whilst walking home one evening, I had abuse hurled at me, with various items
thrown in my direction. That was my wake up call to the bitter world we live in. My realisation that the
pettiness and immaturity wasn’t going to end when I left the school corridors,
this was reality now. And it was only just beginning. </span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7f2JGr9nzYiSKB52n4cFzT7ZPm0KB4pUraYuCNQYQBBpxWTKuy7CO7Q9T07nFekr27DOv_7kEgVwpV8P-vEmpf8R0AtM3dFmTXZEK9OYMl3JZkXAi6ChIoerCP0ARVFehfIetvNwz2pYK/s1600/thumb_IMG_9493_1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="724" data-original-width="1086" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7f2JGr9nzYiSKB52n4cFzT7ZPm0KB4pUraYuCNQYQBBpxWTKuy7CO7Q9T07nFekr27DOv_7kEgVwpV8P-vEmpf8R0AtM3dFmTXZEK9OYMl3JZkXAi6ChIoerCP0ARVFehfIetvNwz2pYK/s640/thumb_IMG_9493_1024.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<h3>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">[Antibullying shoot:2017, Photo Credit: Miss A.Wait]</span></div>
</span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">I’ve had my face
photoshopped on memes. I’ve been followed and filmed in the streets. Had my
social media’s leaked onto “just for fun pages”. I’ve been called every name
under the sun...... Fat. Ugly. Freak. Monster. Been told that I should’ve been
given up as a child. Some even going as far as telling me my existence on this
planet isn’t worthy. And for what?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">Because I happen to
be 1 metre shorter than the average adult my life doesn’t hold as much value as
if I happened to be 100cm taller?.... I’m not going to bore you with the
jargon and statistics behind my physique, but the simplest way to explain how
my condition became a thing, can be done in two words.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="line-height: 107%;">Genetic
fluke.</span></b><span style="line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">Neither of my
parents have the condition, nor have traces of the gene in their families.
Therefore it was a fluke. A chance. A coincidence. An accident if you
will?..... whatever you wish to describe it as, no one held any responsibility
for it. No one has any control over it. I certainly didn’t choose it. Yet
society continues to punish me for it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">I started my blog in
2016, off the back of years of writing diaries and notes on my phone. I found
it very hard to speak openly to people as a teenager, for all the reasons above.... so I always wrote
instead.... be it to a counsellour, a support worker, a teacher... a
friend... if it was something that I knew would make my words shake, I put it
on paper.... then in 2016 after leaving secondary school and going onto
college, my life experiences were changing; the way I felt towards things were altering.. and I found myself looking to a lot
more social influencers for comfort... looking for the reassurance that
others were feeling my feelings too..... I craved to be inspired; and with that
sparked the thought of maybe... just maybe... I had the power too to inspire too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">But there are
hardships that come with having an open social platform; you hold yourself open
to hurt, to hate.... so much so that you can almost expect someone to pick something out of a post. I remember one time, a post of mine grabbed the
attention of online trolls, to which I was told by someone I knew <b>“well what do you expect...if you put yourself out there...... it’s bound to happen”</b>. Hang on?
It’s bound to happen? Is that really what we’ve let our society come to. That
bullying isn’t even seen as a surprise, but instead something that’s bound to
happen? Almost as if, me writing my blog, deserved me of such targeting. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #454545;">There have been many
times I’ve felt just pressing </span><span style="color: red;">delete.</span><span style="color: #454545;"> In my life there’s not many things I can
control, so sometimes deleting a platform that opens me up to vulnerability and
targeting seems like an easy option, a power I’m hungry for. But whilst it would
take away some of the hurt and pain our society causes, it would too take away the
blessings being a blog writer has brought.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">The thank you
messages. The signs of gratitude; the “you really helped me”. All of that. It
was all I ever could’ve wished for when this all started.... and it’s something
I feel lucky enough to be able to have achieved. I know from experience that
sometimes all the comfort we need lies within knowing that someone else is
feeling it too, someone else is carrying your load.... and even more than that
someone else has come through the other side. And not to mention the friends.
The people that have come together; the families I’ve met who all found me
here. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU3bde_2DlenxCVWZjc5U0OyyJsHlSNWOafz51MEbXCg7W1iHht1r3cS6PZ5lXQd0_BVHHTRnuGYZO_q6SvAzU9pz9nsd-Q0P0Fc2t7al4pF-b9ot231IQSUzR2qyuQC3SwG-lt_rbxBQB/s1600/48275475_747784972244272_5133527602908102656_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU3bde_2DlenxCVWZjc5U0OyyJsHlSNWOafz51MEbXCg7W1iHht1r3cS6PZ5lXQd0_BVHHTRnuGYZO_q6SvAzU9pz9nsd-Q0P0Fc2t7al4pF-b9ot231IQSUzR2qyuQC3SwG-lt_rbxBQB/s640/48275475_747784972244272_5133527602908102656_n.jpg" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">All of that and so
much more. It would all be gone, and for what? The satisfaction of an online
troll.... who probably couldn’t even tell you my name. Which is why. We get
back up. We dust ourselves down. We cry. Scream. Shout. Feel sorry for
ourselves maybe..... and then we wipe our eyes, tie our hair up, and come back even harder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">It would be easy to
be bitter. As bitter as the world that surrounds us... And believe me, those feelings don’t go unseen. I’ve cried for days.
Prayed for days. I’ve begged doctors to “take it away”, but all the time
knowing nothing is going too. This is my card. Albeit not one I asked to be
dealt, but still one I have to deal.... and how I do that could easily be
influenced by the hatred and torment of others. And believe me, some days it
is. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">But whilst I have
power over very little else, one thing I keep power of is how I choose to play
my card..... And whilst I still continue to pray... for a day society feels no need to bring others
down simply for.... a fluke. I’m not going to allow my actions now to be influenced by those
who see nothing better to do with their lives than bring down
others. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">I for one do have
better. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="color: #454545; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: inherit; line-height: 107%;">And for that. Regardless of how they try to make me feel... </span></div>
<br />
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<span style="color: #454545;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: inherit;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<b style="font-family: inherit;">I’ll
always be better.</b></div>
</span></div>
<div style="color: #454545; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-32250221204097425612020-05-21T21:00:00.002-07:002020-06-18T18:49:39.241-07:00Mastering the basics- The reality of being a little person in lockdown.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjURaHiyYeYCa4g4PJMfT8gfWEoG0OTOrgFqBzQILmDDRsVMw4qnOnSdsqWmHoQ05RRG25OeGnIG5u-HUvLLlWNjEUfMRMTNyZIDa6T4TIOvpZmQ_yCz6BYROVvuaIGwVZ9HFwrj_MOnkgP/s1600/13F72F6B-F0E8-424E-864D-2C0EC7FA16E9.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjURaHiyYeYCa4g4PJMfT8gfWEoG0OTOrgFqBzQILmDDRsVMw4qnOnSdsqWmHoQ05RRG25OeGnIG5u-HUvLLlWNjEUfMRMTNyZIDa6T4TIOvpZmQ_yCz6BYROVvuaIGwVZ9HFwrj_MOnkgP/s400/13F72F6B-F0E8-424E-864D-2C0EC7FA16E9.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When lockdown began, I knew many challenges laid ahead.
There I was with a degree to finish, a dissertation to write, a job which now
needed to take place from home.... and all whilst being in a different country
(technically) from my family. The first few days felt like a whirlwind as I’m
sure it did for many, this was all new, what was I supposed to do? And more
than that.... how the hell was I supposed to feel? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I tried to build myself a routine, started to find my feet but
often a few days into feeling organised I’d lose my mojo and be back to the
beginning again, I guess that’s how lockdown emotions work, somedays you feel
like you have it all together, and others.... well..... you’re lost. Lost in
this whirlwind of uncertainly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">For all the reasons mentioned above, I knew lockdown was
going to be tough. But before I could even comprehend facing my degree. Before
I even thought about opening a textbook. Before I could even think about trying
to thrive in this newfound environment we had found ourselves in... I had to
learn the basics.</span></div>
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<a name='more'></a><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Moving away from home was a huge transition for me, and a
hurdle that made me jump higher than I ever thought possible. I learned the full extent of what it was truly like to be small in today’s society.... or so
I thought! Because lockdown- was about to reinforce that even further. For the
last 7 months of living away from home, I’ve been blessed to live with the most
supportive flatmates, surrounded by incredible support networks in the form of
friends, colleagues, and tutors, who I knew should I ever need it, they’d be
there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Apart from this time they weren’t. It was just me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So....... how do I go about reaching the top shelves now?
The jars which my hands are too small to open...... the washing basket that’s
too big to lift...... for the last 7 months my coping mechanisms for all these
things have been in the form of another person, a person who wasn’t there
anymore. For 7 months we’d built ourselves a routine, I’d built a routine, and
it felt like overnight all of that had been taken away. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It didn’t feel fair. I was already under immense pressure,
and so much was changing.... every day...... no one knew what the next day
would bring. The whole world was worried, so you really think I wanted to spend
even a semi-fraction of a second contemplating how I was going to open a
jar?....... But this was the reality I was facing. This was the full extent of
what it was like to be small in today’s somewhat slightly weird society. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Somedays..... were easier than others..... as days passed I
started to find my feet, I found new places to put things, places I could reach
with ease even if some did mean my kitchen looked a little messy. I found new
routines which meant the washing basket never got too heavy. I learned how to
do a one-woman cooking act... in place of the 4 people I usually have beside
me. I learned how to master the basics all whilst trying to also master a
degree.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And some days I kicked ass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Other days. It kicked me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And that’s ok. Because with every hurdle sometimes you fall
at the first one...... sometimes you fall at the 1000th one! But you get up and
you try again, why? Because we don’t have any other choice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We have no say in the cards we are dealt, only on how we
play them.... and whilst I never imagined, opening jars, reaching shelves and
cooking with step stools to be part of my game, I embrace each level- have I
mastered all the basics? Most likely not. But for now at least. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I think I stepped up a level ❤️<span style="font-size: 17px;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-38944842653367648072020-04-28T10:00:00.000-07:002020-06-22T15:16:08.188-07:00It’s so important to talk! Bullying awareness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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If you are struggling in any way, here are some organisations who can help;
~The mix: 08088084994
~Samaritans: 0116123
~Child-line: 08001111
~Young Minds Crisis Messenger: Text YM to 85258
~On my mind: </span><a class="yt-simple-endpoint style-scope yt-formatted-string" dir="auto" href="https://www.youtube.com/redirect?q=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.annafreud.org%2Fon-my-mind%2F&redir_token=QzndRHnXwt9vZMm60r4s8apqJ_18MTU5MjYxNDY2MkAxNTkyNTI4MjYy&v=xze5Gn8C-Vs&event=video_description" rel="nofollow" spellcheck="false" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-decoration: var(--yt-endpoint-text-regular-decoration, none); white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank">https://www.annafreud.org/on-my-mind/</a><span class="style-scope yt-formatted-string" dir="auto" style="background: rgb(249 , 249 , 249); border: 0px; color: #030303; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
And above everything.... reach out to those closest to you. They want to help. But they can’t do that unless they know.
Bullying affects 1 in 4 of us across our lifetime. It feels like we’re the only ones fighting it but we’re not. People do understand. And people can help. We can all help.... by being kinder, more considerate and more civil to those we meet. If we all did that, who knows the positive difference we could make💕💕</span>Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-31048879496372375342020-03-30T09:16:00.000-07:002020-06-12T12:07:03.081-07:00COVID-19; A change in plan.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii2_f0AV7mnGiE03vlHBfLCYSGcOBjTCloXyjAxF8YYbXCZzJSR66pBkmNzXqx0ZaHWpQS1EqLAPfM7pcPORYAEPB6d3RXuy7PzeDR0rKXI8DABPMsE_1i_S1FnO1f8zSIO5N9TiPlhTci/s1600/2283391_0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="630" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii2_f0AV7mnGiE03vlHBfLCYSGcOBjTCloXyjAxF8YYbXCZzJSR66pBkmNzXqx0ZaHWpQS1EqLAPfM7pcPORYAEPB6d3RXuy7PzeDR0rKXI8DABPMsE_1i_S1FnO1f8zSIO5N9TiPlhTci/s400/2283391_0.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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March started off so exciting and positively overwhelming for me, I handed in my last academic essay of my degree; finally, after three years the end was in sight. I was finding my feet within my first contracted job role, loving getting stuck in and exploring how I could contribute to the growth of our organisation; and then of course, the big one.... masters... I made the decision to apply for my master's degree, something which a year ago was never on my radar. I decided that my life in Wales was not something I wanted to pack up and leave just yet, and my journey at USW wasn’t ready to be over. So I applied.... and I got in.</div>
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I was starting to have a plan. For the first time in a long time, I was starting to look beyond the next 3 months. I had aborted the idea of rushing back to my home comforts at the end of my degree, and I was beginning to shape life as I wanted.</div>
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<b>Thursday 12th March</b>; I got my official offer to study my MA degree in Working for children and families.</div>
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<b>A week later: The UK confirms lockdown.</b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Wait. What?</span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Back it up a minute. This wasn’t part of the plan.</span></h3>
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In a 7 day period, my life went from signing up for an extra year at university, to my time at university (for this year at least) ending without me even knowing. Where I was starting to plan the next few years, suddenly I don’t know what’s going on in the next few hours.</div>
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Anyone who's known me for a while... knows... I thrive off a plan. My life has always involved the need to plan. Since a young age myself and my family have had to plan... if there was something I couldn’t reach? Plan how to reach it? If there was something that didn’t fit. Plan how to make it. If I knew my parents were going out for the day; I knew I had to plan everything I needed from the moment they left, to the moment they came back so that they could reach it for me before they left. If I go-out, I need to know that I could reach public facilities and get wherever I’m going safely. The height of public toilets. The height of ticket machines. How big the curbs are on the road; are they manageable?</div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129;">Everything has always needed a </span><b>PLAN.</b></div>
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Well, let me tell you one thing... <u>COVID-19; doesn’t care about your plans.</u></div>
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One week on from accepting to be a MA student, I was now left accepting the fact that my final semester of university; is going to take place in my home. Something which I don’t think anyone could’ve envisioned. The first few days; admittedly consisted more wallowing than working; I didn’t even know where to start. I made a semi-timetable to try and stick to the same working schedule as I would be having, had I still been at university, but by day 4 I had already missed half of my to-dos.</div>
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I was beating myself up. Big time. Caught up in how I had gone from feeling so positive about my studies; to not even being able to get my head down to write a sentence. The concept of everything was overwhelming... and not for the reasons March had started off as! And with each day in my schedule that I didn't stick to; only came an even smaller motive to attempt the day after. I wasn't getting anywhere, I wasn't any closer to achieving anything; but you know what was getting closer- <b>DEADLINE DAY.</b></div>
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But after realising that wallowing in my self-pity wasn't going to get me anywhere, nor was beating myself up about the situation, I took a deep breath and decided each day, I only had one plan: and that was to <b>try. That's it. </b></div>
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<b>Try</b> to stick to my home learning plan</div>
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<b>Try </b>and make sure I get out for a walk</div>
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<b>Try</b> and make sure I scheduled a work post</div>
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<b>Try</b> and get a little bit closer to the end goal, than I was yesterday. </div>
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but more importantly; <b>TRY </b>and not beat myself up if I don't.</div>
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and you know what? It worked. Eliminated, was the pressure. Gone, was the fear of not meeting deadlines. Removed, was the fear of not having a plan. And instead, I took it one day at a time..... (I mean I'm still human, this isn't the case every day... but you get my jist)</div>
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Somedays work a dream, essays get written, books get read, dinners get cooked, targets get met.... other days... I eat... that's about it. And I count that as an equal achievement. </div>
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In a time period of 2 weeks, life for everyone has been turned upsidedown, for me; my whole way of learning has had to change. I no longer have the comfort of my classroom to help me achieve my degree, or the ability to jump on a train home whenever I want. Everything changed, for everyone. </div>
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So who cares if all you've done is eat today. Or if you've written 1 sentence instead of 2. If the washing up didn't get done or homeschooling lasted 20 minutes.. We're doing good. Doing good working under pressures that even the most detailed and well thought out plan, wasn't prepared for. We've been faced with the impossible.<br />
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Yet we're all still trying.<br />
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That's an achievement in my books. </div>
Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-15725532946621087212020-03-11T16:00:00.002-07:002020-06-18T18:50:55.763-07:00To the girl who’s moving away.... the things I wish I heard someone say.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh12i5Qjc5OFOv4vqAzfUYo-BkE_kYEK1JuqYStRyzz2dH-9OcXmO4gPoF3-eI3vtn8-ptffFW8eDs5Te5UfrKlGO1gMo6eRW7HlPI87mewQAJnCJCUOp3YWEeYR4_F_3ToapWpYVzbsFLo/s1600/F5C36408-05B9-4164-A224-DA91D49ECF9B.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="498" data-original-width="600" height="331" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh12i5Qjc5OFOv4vqAzfUYo-BkE_kYEK1JuqYStRyzz2dH-9OcXmO4gPoF3-eI3vtn8-ptffFW8eDs5Te5UfrKlGO1gMo6eRW7HlPI87mewQAJnCJCUOp3YWEeYR4_F_3ToapWpYVzbsFLo/s400/F5C36408-05B9-4164-A224-DA91D49ECF9B.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">To the girl who’s moving away......
(The things I wish I heard someone say.)<span style="color: #454545;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This is your story now. Every day will
be new to anything you’ve known before. And for sure every day will be
different alright! Some days you’re gonna feel independent, strong and loved
and other days you’ll feel forgotten and confused!<span style="color: #454545;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Nobody’s told you how emotionally and
physically hard this process is, even though nobody is telling you it’s easy
either. Everyone is so excited for you. You’re being reminded constantly how
this is such a big decision, and you made it. But that doesn’t make the pain
any less. You choosing to walk away doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to cry when
you leave. <span style="color: #454545;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The phone calls, texts, Facebook posts,
and FaceTime calls... they can only do so much on the days you’ll need advice,
the days you crave a hug, or you just need someone to vent to. You’ll miss
their smell. Their voice. Some days you’ll worry that you’re forgetting all of
that.... and on the days they don’t call, you’ll wonder if perhaps they’re
living happily without you. Perhaps that they’re forgetting too.<span style="color: #454545;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">All the birthdays, and holidays you
miss, and the photos you follow that you aren’t in... you may click, but inside
you’ll resent them. You’ll look at it over and over. Imagining how different
the picture could be if you were in it too. Imagining how different the bigger
picture would be too.... if only you were there... Some days you’ll wish you could
drop everything and go back. And others you’ll wish they’d come to you. You’ll
wish you could just run home, you’ll wish you could hug your best friend, your
family... even your dog, but that this time you’ll have no time limit to how
long it can last. You wish your mum would lecture you time after time again
about the things you once moaned about.... and that your friends would have a
sleepover with you... or even just sit in silence over a coffee... because it
wouldn’t matter what you did..... Just that you were just present.<span style="color: #454545;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">That you were back.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But the hard thing about all of this is there is no going back. You’re there now... There to grow, there to provide
for yourself and your future. It’s your job now.... to remember all those
moments and cherish them as much as you can, and never take any moment for
granted when you get to do any of those things again. It’s a rollercoaster but
one that will turn your life upside down for the better.... first you just have
to cling on for the ride.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Some days you’ll be in your bathroom
breaking down, and other days you’ll miss the phone calls from home as you’re
so busy embracing life. One day can feel so different from the next. One hour
even. It can be anything... the smell of a sweatshirt, a song on the radio...
the photos you find as you’re clearing out your bottom drawer. It’s ok. Ok to
feel the feelings. And ok for them to change. There’s no deadline. No point
where they’re no longer allowed. No one expects you to switch off and forget.
You may be fine for months- and then a tear will fall when you least expect it.
Allow it. With no explanation. No one thinks less of you for missing the
comfort of your own bed even if you haven’t been back to visit for weeks. It
comes in waves. And the painful thing is that you can’t stop them. But you can
ride them. And you will.<span style="color: #454545;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But as you do remember why. Remember
why you packed your bag in the first place. And all those who were excited for
you.... and still are! Remember that they didn’t leave you, they didn’t forget
you. They’ll always be there. As happy when you’re back as you are. They have
to get on with their lives as much as you do yours but it’s ok. Ok for you all
to be happy in different places. But ok that sometimes you feel sad about that
too.<span style="color: #454545;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">It’s okay to miss home,</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><b>Home misses you <span style="margin: 0px;">❤</span>️</b></span></span></div>
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Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-2459025578744602922020-03-02T08:57:00.003-08:002020-06-18T18:53:31.491-07:00Being the dancer with a difference <div class="post_featured" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 17px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin-bottom: 4.2em; margin-left: -100px; margin-right: -100px; outline: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; overflow: hidden; position: relative; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dance was always something I loved. For as long as I could remember I always recall dance being part of my life. I was a quirky, fun-loving child, and I loved being part of my after-school dance club, taking part in multiple showcases and competitions. I wasn’t really aware of my difference back then, I was just having fun, doing something that I loved to do.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But when secondary school hit, my love for dance was pushed aside and replaced by insecurities. Due to my dwarfism, the size difference between me and my peers was far more apparent than what it had been before, and as I became older, the dance moves I was being taught got more and more complex. I was falling behind, I didn’t feel very good at it anymore. Suddenly the thing I loved to do, was becoming something that instead was making me feel rather lame about myself. The world isn’t always kind when you’re different. Society has expectations of how we should look, and when you don’t reach those expectations sometimes the reaction of others is a bitter one. It was this, that took dance away from me, the words hurt too much to outweigh the passion, and the thought of all eyes on me on the stage, gave me a feeling of fear, not fun.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So at age 11, I gave in, hung up my dance shoes, and tried to live life, drawing as little attention to myself as possible. I didn’t want the limelight anymore, not when I was attracting the negative opinions and comments of others just by walking down the street. It’s fair to say that any quirk I had, had now gone, and instead, I was starting to believe the things the bullies would say. I went from standing in front of a studio mirror all day, to not even wanting to look in one at all.</span></div>
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But this wasn’t to be forever….</span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Fast forward to 2016, my self-confidence was slowly starting to improve after moving on from secondary school and finding my feet in the real world. However, my spark was still dim. But that was soon about to change, when I was invited to the Dance Sway Nationals in 2016 as makeup assistant for a dance crew called ‘Audacity’. As I watched their performance from the side-lines, I saw in them, the same enjoyment and fulfillment as the 10-year-old me had once had. I saw people doing what they loved, for fun, and feeling rather good about themselves for it… something which I didn’t think I’d find in dance again… that is until my boss looked at me and said ‘Come on, Why don’t you give it a go’…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A year on, I returned to the same competition, with the same crew, but this time they didn’t rely on me to do their make-up…. but instead to dance alongside them. Until then I don’t think I ever thought I had the courage to perform again, but there I was, back doing something that I loved…. something that was becoming fun again. Was it easy? Nope? There were many tears, many times I wanted to quit, times I would compare myself to those dancing beside me, and be jealous of the moves that they picked up so quick… times I wish I could just do it as easy and as well as they could… and many times I thought to myself was I really good enough for all this after all? It had been almost six years since I had last performed, I had gotten much older, and therefore the moves which I was expected to be<span style="font-family: inherit;"> able to deliver, were far more intense than the Disney songs 8-year-old me used to jump around to. The physical challenge this had on my body, presented me with a huge mountain to climb.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I still had the same body as 8 year old me. It wasn’t any bigger or stronger than it was back then… But if I was going to peruse my passion and keep up with the almost grown adults I was competing alongside, then I had to find a way to be stronger than the challenges that were in front of me. And the only thing I had stronger than the challenges, was my passion. That and a little bit of stubbornness too!!</span></div>
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Some days were hard...</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Somedays I would fail to keep up, and other days I would watch from the side-lines whilst my body dealt with injury and pain. But every time, I got back up. Every time, I tried again. And every time, I pushed through the barrier of doubt tormenting me. Okay, I’ve never been the best…. I’m not the quickest or most skilled dancer, and to this day there are things which I can’t do, and probably won’t ever do. But that’s ok…. why? Because I may not be the best, but I am doing my best, and above all of that, I am doing something that I love, and something that I want to do, and no one, is going to take that away from me again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">For so long I used to be afraid to step back out there… to have all eyes looking at me because in the past, never once has that been a positive experience. I let the words and opinions of others hold me back. But I’ve come to learn that those who stare, those who laugh…. they’ll have two minutes of my life… but the confidence, motive, and purpose that comes from when I dance…. that will stay with me for a lifetime. I will never be able to change how some people may see me, but I can change how I see myself, and you know what, some days, I don’t even notice my difference anymore.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">If I could say anything, to anyone who may be being held back, at the fear of feeling different, or the fear that perhaps you may not be good enough. It would be, to be brave. Take the leap of faith. Be bold enough to step out there. And be the version of yourself that you want to be, not who anyone else expects you to be. We are only held back by the limits we set ourselves, and when I let go of those limits back in 2016, my life was opened to a whole new world of opportunity. I found my spark again.</span></div>
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Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-7454859042035220072020-01-24T11:56:00.000-08:002020-06-12T12:16:15.322-07:00I travelled to London ON MY OWN.... AND DID WHAT? <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Being 3ft 11, public transport has never been my best friend- from not being able to reach the ticket machines to jumping 5.5 miles to reach the train platform, the strain it puts on my body means it's not something I love doing, even more so as it often forces me to do my least favorite thing in the world..... <b>ASK FOR HELP. </b>So public transport where possible has always been a no-no!</div>
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However, since moving away from home, public transport has become more of a necessity, it's how I get home. But necessity or not, it's not my favorite thing, far from it, especially when I have no one else to rely on.... so..... this may come as a bit of a surprise when I say..... I TRAVELLED TO LONDON. ON MY OWN.</div>
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Surprised? Yeah....me too...</div>
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It started when I got a message on my blog, explaining about a project taking place at the London College of Fashion- promoting an adjustable clothing range, which they needed a little person to model for. OK SO LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT. Firstly YOU WANT ME TO MODEL. Secondly... IN LONDON, YOU WANT ME TO MODEL IN LONDON. ON MY OWN? ME? A MODEL? NOPE.</div>
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Wasn't happening, I mean really, me? Surely not...</div>
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<b>"Yes, of course, I would love to"-</b>Ummmm, ok abort mission. What did I just sign up for?</div>
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As the day crept closer, I didn't tell many people. In fact, the only people that knew I was going away were my parents, my best friend, and one of my colleagues. That's it. This was something I had to deal with and process with myself before sharing it with anyone else, this was huge. Like proper huge. If there's anything that scares me the most it's..... Crowds. Big cities. Traveling and putting myself out there. And today I was about to face all four of these things.</div>
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The morning came, and I felt like a naughty school girl; I had taken the day off work- giving no valid reason, and I had turned off my snap maps with no possible trace. I didn't tell any lies, I just also wasn't very forward in telling the truth. Part of me I suppose was still in disbelief, another part of me didn't want anyone to worry; I mean I knew telling my family that I was jumping on a coach to the city centre of London on my own, wasn't something that was going to go down without hesitation. Another part of me, also knew I had to do this for myself; if I was going to take the step to push myself this far out of my comfort zone, it had to be because I was choosing too, not because I had anything to prove to anyone else.</div>
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When I arrived at the station, London seemed even busier than I remember, I felt even smaller than usual, surrounded by rucksacks and briefcases, all in a rush of different directions. I had half an hour to get to what I believed to be the other side of the city; in rush hour. Brilliant. So far, I had felt calm, almost no different from when I was traveling to and from a visit home. But this definitely wasn't home. Newport felt like a village in comparison to the mayhem around me.</div>
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The whole sensation felt surreal.</div>
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Walking through the crowds, crossing the business roads, jumping in taxis; from one side of London to the other, how did I ever get to this point? How did the girl who struggled to get on a train, ever end up traveling through London? ON. HER.OWN.</div>
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Fast forward to the journey home, I sat and thought if this whole process actually happened. To some, this journey would've been part of their daily occurrence, but for me, it was never something I ever would've considered. Would I love to be a girl who travels, who books holidays and goes on road trips? Of course. But when you stand at the average height of a five-year-old; the big wide world isn't somewhere you always feel brave to venture.</div>
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On this day alone, I had conquered more fears than I could count; not to mention the fact of standing in front of a camera. No filters. No hiding behind anyone else. Standing there. As myself. And you know what, it was so much fun. Was it scary? Of course, did I feel insecure; obviously. But the laughter drowned out the worries and the excitement for the opportunity I had been given, outweighed the anxieties it was causing. Not to mention the difference I felt I was making, there I was in front of the camera, no filters, no alterations, no hiding, why? Because people who are different don't need to hide. And that's the message I hope, my photos would spread. As someone who grew up, surrounded by unrealistic media, with body and self-image expectations set by the tease of photoshop; I knew how important it was. I knew how much I wished, I had seen someone in the media; who just looked ordinary. Regardless of disability, difference, or race, I longed to see someone without an airbrush cheek, or without a size 8 figure; and that's exactly what I was. Did that suddenly make me a model that people will aspire to? No, not in any stretch, but someone might. And even if they didn't, they'd still see me, they'd still see me condition, and perhaps it may become more of their norm. A norm to see people who are different, a norm to see someone with dwarfism; and perhaps that was going to take us one step closer to the society I dream of that sees someone's height difference as no more extreme than someone's hair colour difference.</div>
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And for that, it was worth it. Worth the fear and anxiety, to think I may have made a difference; even to one person. Not to mention the fact that our project as a whole promoted diverse and adjustable fashion. Something which in 2020; should not be something as a society we still fight for.</div>
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So there we go! Who'd have thought it, me, venturing out through the capital city, doing modeling shoots, and conquering public transport; I for sure never imagined it was possible! But if I've learned anything through this experience, it's that sometimes we never know what we're capable of, not until we're in the midst of it, doing it because we have no other choice! For so long I waited, held back from opportunities; 'UNTIL I FELT READY', well I'll tell you now, I did not feel ready. Sometimes we never feel ready; not until it's done and you're left wondering how you did it!</div>
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What's holding you back? What dream are you putting off? And for what reason? I didn't think I had it in me to do any of these things..... turns out that was only because I had never given myself the chance.</div>
<br />Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-7339651260857505852020-01-09T02:36:00.003-08:002020-06-12T12:18:17.194-07:00It isn't built for me..<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Ever wondered what it's like down here? Ever thought about how the way I see the world may be different from you? Ever considered that how I see the room may look completely different to you... even if what we're looking at is the same? </div>
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I took these photos for a university presentation- A micro-teach I had to present about my life. Something which despite being a blogger, and having done many public presentations before... it's something which still is hard to summarise in words. So I used pictures instead.</div>
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The top rows of all of these, are what my average heigh friend sees.... which means... you've guessed it... the bottom row is what I see. The same objects. The same day. At the same time. The same place.</div>
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Yet the views are completely different.</div>
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All these things are featured in my University, and all these things are ones I use on a daily basis, their essential to my lifestyle and study as a student.... yet... they're not built for me. None of them are. They're built for my friends. The average... the majority.</div>
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I'm lucky enough to have very supportive friends, who carry my load and make the fact all these things are out of reach almost forgettable..... but the truth of the matter is... they are. Initially anyway.</div>
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Being here 3 years now, I've got myself into a routine, I know my limits, I've learned ways around things and I've learned when I need someone else on hand when I can't achieve my outcome independently, but this thought process..... on top of a full-time work placement, and a BA Hons degree... can sometimes feel overwhelming.</div>
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I used to be jealous, jealous of the things that all my friends could do with ease. Jealous that whilst they're fretting over their dissertations I'm left fretting over how I'm gonna reach my lunch. Some days it doesn't feel fair. But then other days, honestly... I don't even notice and I don't think others do too.</div>
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The fact is..... I could be angry. Easily. I could be frustrated, and believe me somedays I am.... but more often than not, it doesn't cross my mind. Because after 21 years experience I've accepted that there will never be a day I don't need someone to reach something off a shelf or a day I can see over every counter and desk I greet. And in the mix of all of life's pressures... You can guarantee I am not adding an additional one in the form of my thoughts and frets.</div>
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We all need a little help sometimes... and although it took me a long time to accept it, my help just comes in the form of the little things. But in turn, my degree is allowing me to help others with big things. Big things that I can do, that others may not have mastered yet. So if it turns out that reaching a book off a top shelf is my biggest weakness...... I'm happy with that.</div>
Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-6530092948125621402019-12-31T18:12:00.000-08:002020-06-18T18:13:11.319-07:002019 in a nutshell....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have been blessed with so many incredible memories and experiences this year... From dancing alongside World Champions, multiple London adventures, seven incredible stage shows, endless spontaneous adventures<span class="_5mfr" style="margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/t52/1/16/1f923.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; height: 16px; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">🤣</span></span> an insane celebrity dance workshop! Memorable dance performances and then in September competing twice at Sway Nationals. All before takin<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">g on the biggest milestone for me to date, moving to Newport, leaving behind some incredible workplaces and friends but then being blessed with some incredible new ones. 2019 was the year I took a massive risk, I walked away from everything I knew, and took a leap of faith in the hope of finding something just as good.... well I definitely did that!<span class="_5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/t15/1/16/1f49b.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; height: 16px; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">💛</span></span> There are way too many people to thank for their part in this year, especially at the times where my body presented me with hurdles... but I’m so grateful for 2019 and all the lessons it’s taught me and the people I’ve shared it with... Here’s to 2020 and all the exciting things it’ll bring!<span class="_5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/t2/1/16/1f60d.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; height: 16px; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">😍</span></span> I’m so ready!<span class="_5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/t25/1/16/1f393.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; height: 16px; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">🎓</span></span></span></div>
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<br />Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-57479133871609428412019-12-12T13:26:00.001-08:002020-06-12T12:20:42.222-07:00G-Expressions...... A whole new adventure!<br />
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Hey! I'm Danielle and I'm Creative Arts Assistant for G-Expressions. My role means I support both the dance and drama elements of G-Expressions. Despite only being in the role for a couple of months, my journey with G-Expressions began way before then.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So let me take you way back to the beginning..... </span><br />
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My story starts here, on this stage, where I was performing with my organisation 'Portishead Youth Centre' back in October 2018. I produced the showcase as part of my BAhons degree, and as a result, had invited members and partners of the University South Wales along to watch. We sold out, filling a room with 250 audience members...... within these, were the G-Expressions team. This is where I first come to know of exactly who these people were, and what they strived for, and I think it's fair to say I was inspired from day one.</div>
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Fast forward a couple more months, and the link between my organisation and G-Expressions grew stronger, as my dance crew were invited to perform as part of the opening of 'Hard Knock Life' a recent production by G-Expressions. Watching the show, and also seeing an incline of the backstage action only rose this organisation even higher in my admiration, as a dancer and youth worker myself, the show I saw in front of me was basically everything I was striving for in my own development. I wanted my own work to be of this standard, with this response.... having this impact! I remember one of my colleagues dropping into conversation on the way home, 'Dan this could be you one day'. And I quote my exact words were.....</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">"</span><b><span style="font-size: large;">What a dream they'd be to work with'</span>'. </b><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Fast forward eight months.... and I can in fact confirm that they are a dream!</span></div>
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After deciding to move over the bridge to Newport in September 2019 in order to complete my third and final year at Uni without the pressures of 6am trains and long winter commutes... I found myself on placement, with the organisation who for the last year had inspired and shaped the professional I had strived to become. I felt like I had hit the ultimate jackpot, after pursuing a passion in dance for the last 4 years, how lucky was I that in the mayhem of the move, this was the one thing I didn't need to leave behind. But with this came some nerves... Did I have what it took? I may have been a confident spark on stage, but that spark dimmed when it came to my own self-belief. But here I was amongst a team of professionals who were trusting me.... trusting me to make a lasting impact on their organisation... trusting me to deliver, represent and promote what they had been building for the last 10 years.....Me? ....Really?</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Well if that's not a confidence boost in itself I don't know what is!</span></b></div>
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Moving away from home was never on my agenda, Not yet anyway. I never saw myself as the person who would fly the nest at 21, and if I'm honest I don't think part of me even thought I'd be the person who would be graduating with a BAhons degree, but yet here we are.... 2 months into my time living in Newport, 6 months away from Graduation day.... and a massive part of that is down to the team who inspired me. The team I now get to be a part of. </div>
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Looking over the past 9 weeks, I every now and then in moments of quiet amongst the busyness,I still question how I really ended up here.... getting to pursue my two passions... Youth work and performing arts... and more than that, getting to support young people in bringing their own passions to life. But the development doesn't end in the studio. G-Expressions have grown my confidence and skills, in many aspects of my life, my academics, my professionalism... but most importantly in myself., and the person I have the potential to become.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So now it's my turn to do the same!</span><br />
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The support I have received from the organisation, and the spark they have put back in me, is what now drives me in my new role, to promote and find that same confidence in the young people we work with. I'd like to believe that I can create the same opportunities for them as I have had created for me and support them in their own journey of self-discovery and following their own dreams. <br />
G-Expressions has opened so many doors for me, doors I didn't even know existed... Doors I definitely didn't believe I had the potential to open and if I can give even a percentage of that back for future generations... then I'll call my career a success! </div>
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I am so grateful to G-Expressions, for the example they set me from early on, which inspired development in my career in the first place.... but more so, for the support, opportunities, and experiences I now am living and working every day. From supporting dance leaders courses, writing funding applications, leading classes, planning events, organising fundraising events, creating and running my own sessions... Most students can only dream of that in a 9 month period! Which only gets me thinking.....If this is month 2...... where will we be on month 9???<br />
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If you had asked me three months ago my plan for life after graduation, I don't think I could answer, and part of me, still hasn't quite worked it out yet... but one thing I do know, is that my journey with G-Expressions, is a journey I hope is only just beginning.</div>
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Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-19219472431074879222019-12-01T18:17:00.000-08:002020-06-18T18:20:10.728-07:00"We need to get you to the hospital"...... <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As my first Christmas in Newport approached, I imagined it being full of many views..... however, this was never supposed to be one of them. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b>'We need to get you to the hospital' </b>A sentence I've heard many times before, but never like this, never here. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;">The machines, the jargon, the scans... I'd done it all before. But this time, I had to do it 50 miles away from home, in a city I'm still learning to know.</span></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Since I've been studying at University, my medical life has certainly enhanced... <span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;">countless </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;">hospital visits, 13 infections, 5 injections, and 4 new medical diagnoses, yet not many of those things scared me, not really. All of those things. They were just part of the package. Something which despite bringing many challenges, didn't phase me nor bother me to an extent; as I had yet to know life without them, I had always been on this path, always juggled everyday life with the medical jargon in-between. It was my norm, something I did most of the time with ease..... but this time didn't come with ease.... this time wasn't something I was used to having to do...... because this time ....</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;">. I had to do it 50 miles away from home, in a city I’m still learning to know. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;">This time I was scared. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">And I was even more scared, as I knew. I knew something was wrong. On previous events, I would usually cover it up, play it off... I'm fine, it's nothing... building myself a wall of self-belief that this isn't really the card I've been dealt and in fact, my body is as resilient or as tough as any other. But no not this time. I knew something was wrong. Before anyone else even noticed. I knew instantly, that life was about to throw a cannonball. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;">Tears streamed down my face. There was no hiding it this time. I was overwhelmed with pain, but also with fear, fear of the uncertainty, and not having any idea what was going to come next. </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I had planned to do many things this Christmas, but falling from the top of 12 concrete steps, landing at the bottom, was never on my agenda. I was just recovering! Just getting over an already difficult year, shaking off the effects of previous medical encounters; This was not what I needed. But at least last time, I was in home territory, I had the comforts of my home grounds around me. On this day, I had none of the sort. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><b><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;">On this day</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;"> I had to learn to stand on my own.</span></span></b></b><br />
<b><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;"><br /></span></span></b></b><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">but this day also taught me so much more than that.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;">Today taught me to appreciate the people aroun</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; display: inline;">d you, it’s taught me to always be kind because there’s a lot of people around us who are fighting a battle of some sort.... and it’s taught me that sometimes life throws you hurdles, no warning, no reason... no preparation... so appreciate what you have, and even more than that, appreciate who you have!</span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; display: inline; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After a very long day, I’m home with nothing more than some cuts, bruises, and a small fracture to the spine. Some may say that’s bad, but..... I know full well... it could’ve been so much worse. So I could be mad, I could be upset, I could be frustrated, but instead... I’m grateful. Grateful to be home. Grateful for the doctors who looked after me and grateful to my colleagues and tutors who stayed by my side... Newport, you were strong for me today... now time to get my own strength back.</span></div>
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</span>Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-15256027469715559292019-11-07T03:55:00.000-08:002020-06-12T12:21:54.261-07:00No one tells you about the little things.....<div style="text-align: center;">
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When people talk about the challenges of being small, there are things that are obvious- the not being able to reach the top shelf, or not being able to walk into a shop and try on any pair of jeans. Everyone knows about that. I always knew about that. From an early age, my size was spoken about, even though the years I chose not to speak about it, I still knew, I knew things weren't going to be as straight forward as some of the people around me... I knew there were big things I needed to overcome.... but no one ever told me about the little things.<br />
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No one told me about the bottles my hands would be too small to open, or the folders my arms were too small to hold. No one said about the rucksacks that would be too strong for me... or the chairs I'd struggle to climb. </div>
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No one told me that my energy would be mainly used, not in the bigger of tasks, but instead in the small things. The things no one talks about. The things I see so many others do with ease. When you google dwarfism, no finding is going to tell you "Struggles to open drinks bottle". No finding is going to admit the struggles that no one seems to talk about. So how is anyone supposed to know? How was I supposed to know? </div>
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A few months ago, a close friend of mine Rebecca, tweeted a tweet that has stuck with me, about a similar situation she was in, with a bottle of orange juice.... and one sentence that stuck with me.... <b><span style="font-size: large;">"It's taken me an hour to open a bottle of orange juice. That's not what everyone else does!</span>"</b></div>
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That got me thinking. And she's right. It's not what everyone else does... similarly to how I just had to ask my classmate to open my drink for me... I don't see anyone else doing that either? </div>
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So when we say... <b><span style="font-size: large;">"We can do anything anyone else can do?"</span> </b></div>
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The thing is we can't... not really. We can find alternatives and ultimately the outcome we reach can be the same... but we can't do everything that others can. That's not negativity... That's just fact.</div>
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But let's turn this around a minute... I may not be able to open a drinks bottle like all my friends can... but hey.. I don't see many of my friends competing in dance nationals. Or even studying a BA in university. So I can't do things they can, but some may say I can do things they can't... or perhaps haven't even considered yet. </div>
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Does that make these little things any easier? No, because in the mix of preparing for a dance national or in the whirlwind of university life... you think I really want to spend more than a semi fraction of a second of my day contemplating how I'm gonna open a drinks bottle?<b> <span style="font-size: large;">No.</span></b> Because they're just little things... but sometimes the little things are the big things. The things that no one talks about, the things that no one teaches you how to overcome... </div>
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Sometimes the smallest hurdles take the biggest jump and whilst I may have mastered the trains.. I've taught my body to dance and learned how to juggle a BA degree in the mix of life's medical hurdles... I'm in fact still learning... to do all the things that my body presents me with every day, all the things that I discover as I go.. about the things that we need to start talking about. </div>
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Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-35974301619321575842019-10-10T16:27:00.001-07:002021-02-02T12:59:49.702-08:00Some days it sucks.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCmvFDju1Ldl19hn7ewnhb_zLAd-fp0yfmGQK6tSb9q2NaaNqStkIGho8w4B0sS-BP9ADxl16x0Dt-RJI4B_DfRuZSQnEYvHE0uZhKisc6AHdbYqXnxdd285aO240PR83KOYTrUq8MIHkq/s583/316459_6260a35cedc346398f53457f78a22b05%257Emv2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="583" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCmvFDju1Ldl19hn7ewnhb_zLAd-fp0yfmGQK6tSb9q2NaaNqStkIGho8w4B0sS-BP9ADxl16x0Dt-RJI4B_DfRuZSQnEYvHE0uZhKisc6AHdbYqXnxdd285aO240PR83KOYTrUq8MIHkq/w543-h290/316459_6260a35cedc346398f53457f78a22b05%257Emv2.jpg" width="543" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
I'm a true believer in everything happening for a reason and that people are only dealt with what they have the strength and ability to overcome. Therefore, I try really hard to not moan, or complain about my hurdles, because I don't believe they are any harder or harsher than those faced, by anyone else... they are just different. </div>
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That being said. Some days?</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">It sucks.</span></b></div>
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And no motivational saying or uplifting statement, can take away that feeling.</div>
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<b>Some days it just frickin sucks. </b></div>
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Being starred at on the street by strangers- sucks.</div>
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Not finding clothes to fit- sucks.</div>
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The aches and pains- Suck.</div>
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The hours sat in a doctors surgery. Suck.</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">BEING SMALL SUCKS. </span></b></div>
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For a while, I beat myself up for these feelings... and some days I still do.... after getting through such a dark time in my life as a teenager, when I hit 18/19 I thought right that's it now, adulthood... Life will be on the up form now. No more weaknesses, no more struggles. Only positivity. I thought I'd be the person who embraced life and saw the good in every situation, the one who had their sh*** together. Because as an adult isn't that what you do?</div>
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Yeah.... this lasted for all of a week maybe? Turns out being an adult, doesn't magically make any of your troubles go away, nor does it give you the ability to suddenly know how to deal with any of them? Just like no one told me how to feel as a child, no one told me how to as an adult either, and despite being "grown-up" I still was none the wiser.</div>
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Because as an adult, still, no one tells you how to feel when you're walking to work and someone who you don't know calls you a freak.</div>
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No one tells you how to explain to a child you work with, why they're taller than you and yet you are still the adult.</div>
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No one tells you how to cook when you can't reach the cooker, or how to go to the shops when half of the contents are above your head height.</div>
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or how to be an adult, in a body smaller than most children.</div>
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No one tells you any of this. You learn as you go, and with learning.... comes failing.... messing up.... breaking down.... with good days, come bad days.... and days where things just suck. When I first started this blog, I thought the only way to inspire people, was to show them a source of strength and positivity, something I needed when I was younger, but then I thought, actually what I really needed growing up, was real-life... to see that other people felt the way I did, that not everyone I saw on social media really had their life together in the way it was displayed- and in fact, everyone was just doing a good job of winging it as much as I was.</div>
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This isn't to say that next time you see a post on social media of someone who looks happy, you think "Nah they're faking it". Storm clouds come and go, some days can still be sunshine and rainbows even if other days you feel like you don't know how to swim.<br />
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I've yet to learn most of the lessons I had hoped to when I became an adult.<br />
I still don't know how to feel when people call me names.<br />
I still don't know the best way to answer a child when they ask "why"<br />
I don't know the best way to do a lot of the things my tall friends do without a second thought.<br />
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Some days, I don't know how to be small. But you know what, that's ok. Because what I do know is that I'm not supposed to know. I'm not supposed to have the answers. That's ok. and if things suck some days... that's ok too! Storms pass, and with the bad days....good ones come along too.<br />
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So next time you see someone on social media, who is "doing better than you" or someone who "has it easier"... Just remember we're all in the same boat here. None of us were given life jackets... and no one got handed a manual either. We are all writing our own stories and like most authors I imagine, most of us are making it up as we go along. So you're allowed to scream. And cry. You're allowed the breakdown... Just don't unpack there. Stop for a while, allow the storm to fall, and then after... go dance in the rain... Because when we step back and look around, we may realise there's a lot, that perhaps doesn't suck after all.Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-46442385516270511122019-09-25T16:00:00.000-07:002020-06-12T12:25:26.560-07:00They don't like you..... But they'll be checking your page religiously.<br />
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Building my blog has been a blessing in many ways, it has amazed me how far some of my posts have stretched and how many people have taken the time to read my stories, in that sense, it has made me feel proud, proud that my stories, my writing, has played a part in spreading awareness, even if only in a small way. It's also been responsible for giving me the opportunity to meet some wonderful people. In December 2018 I held my first Bristol Dwarfism Social, I met some amazing individuals who had all learned about me through my blog. My blog brought that group of people together. My blog was responsible for the friendships made. It was responsible for people realising they weren't on their own.. as crazy as it seems.. my blog, changed lives.</div>
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It most certainly changed mine. Sometimes things are easier to put in writing. Sometimes when my voice shakes, my keyboard does the talking for me. It's been something that has developed my confidence massively, the response I have received, the love, support, messages of encouragement. The messages saying "Thank you", the messages saying I had made a "Difference" to someone's life. That's something I never imagined was possible when I first started writing.</div>
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I never imaged the happiness my blog would bring, but likewise, I never could've dreamt of the sadness that came with it.</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">5</span></b></div>
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That's the record. The most I've ever received in a day. <b>5.</b> That's how many people. How many messages. How many comments. How many times my heart has sunk in one day.</div>
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-Ugly</div>
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Ok, they're just words. But they're words that hurt. Especially when sprung on you without warning, in a supermarket, in a dance rehearsal... In the middle of a university lecture. They are words that are hard to ignore when they are right there in front of you in the notification tab.</div>
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For a while I thought about giving it all in, packing up the blog and every comment that went with it. The grief I get on the streets, that's enough.. More than enough, but that has an escape. That stops when I walk in my door, however where one stops, another starts, only this time, I have the power to end it.</div>
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I can't begin to even try and tally, the times my hand has been shaking over that button, It would be so easy. So easy to wipe it all, in one click of a button it can be gone, the comments, the words, the hurt... just like that.... but with it, goes the work, the heart, the passion, the achievements.... the three years spent connecting with people, all because they clicked on the blog, the three years of positive messages saying thank you, saying that I had helped them, saying that I had reassured them.... three years of making a difference.</div>
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I don't have to open the messages, most of the time I don't. Sometimes social media gives me no choice and the message appears there, loud and clear on my screen. That's the time I fight the urge to delete. But why reject my hard work, when I can reject one stupid sentence sent to me by someone who probably couldn't even tell you my name, in one click of a button the message can be gone... and sometimes, it sticks, and it lingers, and sometimes the pain stays a while, sometimes it takes me a while to forget.... but it takes me even longer to forget the messages of love, gratitude, appreciation and support I receive. They are the ones that stick most, the ones that matter. The ones that remind me every day why I don't press delete, why I don't give in.... and don't give up.</div>
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So if you have a passion follow it, have a dream chase it.... will everyone like it? No? Will everyone appreciate it... definitely not... but whether it was a blog, a career, a song, a book.... someone would find something, somewhere to not be happy about- but surely all that matters is that we're happy. Because if we're happy, those who are true to us will be happy for us. And you know what they say... those who matter don't mind..... and those who mind... certainly do not matter.</div>
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<br />Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-22948557999552932402019-04-06T15:37:00.001-07:002020-06-12T12:27:13.972-07:00Moving out<b><br /></b>
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<b><b>"Moving out"</b></b></div>
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Well, that's certainly two words I didn't think I would say... Not yet anyway, not now... and most certainly not as a university student. Growing up, the world was a scary place. And as a schoolgirl, home was the only place I felt safe. The streets were full of bitterness, the school corridors filled with bullies... I never wanted to leave home on the weekend, not even for 10 minutes. So how is it possible for me to leave for 10 months?</div>
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<b>This was never part of my plan!</b> </div>
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When I applied for University 18 months ago, I insisted the halls weren't for me. The commute was enough, enough to almost make me not want to go, so you're kidding yourself if you think I was gonna add any more worry to my plate. And then when year 2's application came through, again I ticked the same box.</div>
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In the craziness of uni life, home was the only normality, the only place that wasn't challenging me, I was already out of my depth... Working full time whilst studying a BA degree at a campus 2 hours away... I was exhausted, and of course, my body wasn't making this any easier. Six weeks before my final portfolio was due for year 1. When all my classmates sat frantically typing away in the library, I sat frantically in two hospital rooms, Injections, MRI scans, Physiotherapy... all these words fried my head more than any textbook could... Suddenly I was given so much more to learn about, all on top of the heavy modules I was already studying. I thought I was going to fail. In fact, I had convinced myself I had. There was no way I was capable, to add a professional degree into my mix. I cried. So much. My body had disappointed me. My body was stopping me. Stopping me achieving what I thought I could...... Well, at least that's what it felt like.</div>
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But to my surprise I scraped through- Then year 2 came, and again I spent another 3 months in and out of hospital rooms. It didn't feel fair. And it most certainly did not feel possible. My confidence was starting to fall, I told myself I didn't have the strength to go through the same battles again. But again, I did. And I started to realise... perhaps I was more capable than I had first thought.</div>
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So year 3 begun to creep up, and the third and final application came through... This was the final time I had to tick these boxes. This time was different to previous, the feelings were different. I was calmer. More in control. I had faced and overcome so much in the last few months, more than I ever thought I could, and because of that... the whole process felt like a breeze in comparison to what I had become used to. I didn't feel so out of my depth this time. And I also didn't tick the same boxes either... </div>
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[<span style="font-size: large;">X] LIVING AWAY FROM HOME</span></div>
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<b>Why? </b>This question is one that I have asked myself about 100 times a day! <b>Why? Why now?</b> Why, just when I was in control. Just when I had overcome what I had, just when I was managing to spin all my plates... I was learning to live the life I was given, and suddenly my decision had meant it was all going to change... More learning, more juggling... More fighting all over again.</div>
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Why? Well... Because I didn't fail. Because I wasn't out of my depth. Because I was managing. Because I was capable...</div>
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In the last 18 months, I was thrown hurdles I never thought I'd jump, But I did. And it was that, which taught me that anything is possible, even if you've told yourself for 12 years that it isn't. It is. If you really want it to be. I thought it was my body stopping me... From achieving what it was I wanted, but in reality, it was my mindset of believing it did. Yes, it still hurts. A lot. Everyday. But I can still do things. Things I've feared over the last year that I wouldn't be able to do. And sure things would be a hell of a lot easier if I stayed home, Safe. But if there's anything this last year has taught me is that you don't grow when you're safe. You grow when you're challenged. When you're tested. When you're doubted...When you're sat in A&E at 4am in the morning surrounded by the beeping of machines. That's when you grow.</div>
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You grow in the situations you never thought possible. You grow when you don't stick to your plan. You grow when you learn. When you spin plates.... and for me, I'll grow when I <b>move out.</b></div>
Life Being Littlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09115584344344823433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9032227403308320547.post-76627431679349653912019-02-16T14:51:00.001-08:002020-06-12T12:30:41.855-07:00Easy, doesn't always mean happy <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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University is something that many people dream of, but for me, it never really felt like a path I was ever going to walk. Since transitioning to secondary school in 2015 and having my whole world turned upside down... I guess part of me has just eliminated the thought of ever experiencing another big change. But life has funny ways of working out, and after falling in love with an industry I never pictured myself in- I realised that maybe university was the way forward.</div>
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I'd like to think that since leaving secondary school and moving away from the challenges and difficulties that it faced me with, that I'd grown to be stronger, mature and even a little more resilient, but that still didn't take away the daunting feeling I was filled with during my application process. I remember my first open day- all my friends were the first to check out the bars, the clubs, the halls.... my attention, however, was on the simpler things, libraries, classrooms, canteens... now don't be fooled, I'm not that much of a geek! I mean I was interested in all that of course, but I wasn't really paying attention to any of the academic stuff, instead, my mind focused on door handles, light switches.... how many stairs each block had... how far each classroom was from the next... I wanted to enjoy the process. I wanted to enjoy becoming a fresher and experiencing all things uni life would have in store for me, but I knew what uni life had in store would be a much bigger test than any exam I could ever sit. </div>
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Fast forward to open day for university number four.. now this one was probably the best so far, I liked it a lot. The campus was beautiful. The course was incredible. The people seemed lovely. And all in all, everything seemed in my reach. Perfect! Well.... almost..... yes everything was in touching distance but the same could not be said for the uni itself, it was quite a long way from home.... a two-hour train journey in fact. It was bittersweet. I had found the most perfect university. Somewhere I could see myself going. But I'd never been on a train before... I certainly had never traveled on my own. The transition to uni I had just about come to terms with.. but taking on the challenge of commuting just didn't seem thinkable!</div>
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University number five had everything that number four had.. the course, the campus.. and what was even better it was right on my doorstep. No trains. No commutes. I was so excited. This university experience actually seemed possible, nothing seemed as if it could be or cause a problem. Well, except for one thing... I didn't love this one quite as much.. in fact, I didn't love it at all, yeah the course seemed interesting, yeah the campus was kinda nice... but I couldn't see myself there, not really. Not like I had done before. I tried for three weeks to love it. I wanted to love it. I wanted to choose it. Because choosing it meant not having to open myself up to the world of challenges that commuting would give me. But I couldn't. </div>
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So maybe I just wasn't cut out for university. Maybe I was right from the start when I thought of it as a path I would never walk... or maybe it was time I put my past behind me, time I took a leap out of my comfort zone... time I listened to my heart and not my body. But what would life have in store if I chose number 4?</div>
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<b>Well, there was only one way to find out.</b></div>
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Fast forward to now. Mid-way through second year in university that had captured my heart from the very start. The one that in fact has made university life possible... The last two years have taught me a lot... I have come to realise a lot... for example, just how much of this world isn't built for someone who's almost 4ft tall! Ticket machines, automatic doors, card machines, train seats, train platforms... there's a whole world up there I've never had to venture into before. I sometimes get jealous. Jealous of my classmates, who come in at 9am feeling refreshed for a morning lecture, when I'm already physically drained. Jealous of everyone who needn't give a second thought to the daily tasks that are made so daunting. Jealous that they can reach textbooks off the shelf without worrying about who they may ask for help..... I've cried a lot this year. Tears of frustration. Tiredness. Fear. Panic. But I've also laughed. A lot. Experienced a lot. Learnt a lot. And loved... a lot. Loved the new life I embarked on, the friends I gained, the memories I've made. And although some days I wonder how the heck I'm ever gonna get through. I'm grateful for the adventure. I'm grateful for everything that being a small student has taught me and everything it has built me up to overcome.</div>
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My life may have been easier had I made a different choice. But easy. Doesn't always mean happy. And happy is just what I'm determined to make uni life to be!</div>
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