Living Softly: Learning to exist in a body that needs help
Yesterday, I struggled to walk for twenty minutes before admitting to myself that my body is no longer able to tolerate long walks. It turns out, my definition of independence needed an update. I used to walk for hours, but as my condition worsened, so did my mobility. I no longer am able to walk long since my condition is severe. It makes me realize that I need to stop going by others definition of what “independence” is and make my own.
I live with chronic pain, which means my body has… opinions. Some days I can do a lot. Other days I have to move slowly, take breaks (quite a bit sometimes) or stop earlier than planned. Able bodied people aren’t aware of the fact that independence can look vastly different, depending on the individual and their mobility.
Because of my chronic pain, I depend on someone else for help with day to day life. That used to make me uncomfortable to admit and I would feel so much shame. I still do at times. I thought I had to earn rest or prove I was still useful in some way. Growing up, I was always told that I was lazy, overdramatic and other negative labels. However, that isn’t a unique experience since many young black women were given such labels. Because of that, it caused me to become an expert in masking and hiding my pain. So, naturally asking for help is very hard for me to do.
Over time, I’ve realized that needing support doesn’t cancel out who I am or what I bring to the table. Being disabled doesn’t erase my value as a human. I’m still valuable and deserving of love. I am hoping one day I can believe the words I am saying since I still don’t.
I still contribute, just in other ways. I live with my sister and my two adorable cats, so the way I contribute to our household is through planning, admin stuff, and researching things (I am smart, even if my brain fog makes me question it at times). I take care of details and finding community resources to help the household. I show up emotionally for the people in my life since my heart is big. I love and care about others a lot. I work on my business so I can one day financially contribute. And on days when my body isn’t cooperating, my main job is to take care of it without the guilt.
I’m trying to build a soft life in a world that’s VERY loud about productivity. I want to have a life where rest is 100% normalized and even encouraged. I want to be able to ask for help without my face getting red and the huge feeling of failure. I didn’t ask to have the conditions I have, so why must I feel embarrassed to ask for help? A properly functioning community with good people in it would be kind towards me. I don’t look down on other disabled people. So, I assume others wouldn’t as well. I am in therapy so I am working on my mindset. People are inherently good and kind. I want to believe it.
Some days a productive day may look like working on my blog or creating something cute for my shop. Maybe making a new lofi beats video. Other days it looks like resting. My worth and value isn’t determined by my health. I try to tell myself this every day. I am loved. I am valuable even if I am not able bodied. People are inherently good, I just have to look in the right places and put myself out there.
I do hope that this was comforting for you and that you don’t feel alone. If you do struggle with the same things I do, I want you to know that I care. I don’t have all the answers, even though I have a blog. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life and I’m almost thirty. And, hey! That’s fine. I’m figuring things out as I go. Let’s support each other!
This is just where I am right now. It has taken a long time for me to understand these things. In the last year, it finally all clicked. How are you practicing 'softness' in your own life this week?
If this resonated with you, feel free to check out my shop or leave a tiny tip to support my work. No pressure at all! I’m grateful either way, you being here is enough.
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