tales of a black sheep

Labels

Labels The dictionary defines labels as a noun "a small piece of paper, fabric, plastic, or similar material attached to an object and giving information about it" or "a classifying phrase or name applied to a person or thing, especially one that is inaccurate or restrictive". Society uses labels for everything, to keep chaos in check , Mayham managed, keep oddities organized. My family did not use labels. You are not labeled by any physical, mental, emotionally capabilities and incapabilities . You are born as "god intended", change nothing and never apologize for that! I grew up thinking people where like me. That's how my mother raised me, that I was no different than any other child my age that I was smart and could do anything I wanted! So labels let's look back at those definitions s'hall we? A piece of material attached to an object giving them information about it. If I had this type of label it was say sugar, spice with sass, attitude, cusses like a sailor and bat shit crazy. Is loyal, kind, understanding, artistic and very proud of who she is and where she comes from. But... there is that other definition... "classifying phrase or name applied to a person or thing, especially one that is inaccurate or restrictive".... Georgia you are disabled. I remember the day I was finally told this kept secret. We where in camping not far from Halifax, Nova Scotia in the summer. Woodhaven, I was reading a Cassandra Clare city of bones book in a navy blue purple Cheetah print hoodie and dark blue jean shorts. I was sitting in a camp chair with my cousins talking about books, trying to explain to them I love reading but, find it very challenging when my mom finally broke the news. I was devastated (but from that conversation found a love for Harry Potter). I remember being shocked and asking so many questions. My mother acted like I was being over dramatic, like I should have know, I was in fact, in high school that I must have figured it out by now. But I didn't! I assumed everyone had, what I found out was, dyslexic and dyscalculia. When we returned home my mom sat me down astonished that I still didn't know and understand or hadn't pieced it together. "How long did you know I was... different?" "When you where about 4" "4, MOM?! 4 YEARS OLD YOU KNEW AND SAID ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ABOUT IT UNTIL NOW?! WHY?!? "I assumed you where already told by the school and knew you where different. I didn't believe you would take it this hard". I was absolutely wrecked and devastated, You are broken, not Nurotypical, a-typical, not abled, you are not like the others... you are... a black sheep. "How did I not know?" "Because I wanted you to grow up like every other child. I didn't want you growing up thinking that you couldn't do the things like everyone else could. That you weren't as good or worthy, to be labeled by society before you even had a chance because you were always a fighter!" That was reference to the day I was born. November 21,1999 born in Moncton Hospital in New Brunswick in the early morning. A baby girl (fun fact my parents where expecting a boy foot was in the wrong place during the ultrasound whoops). Georgia Elizabeth Mattinson, I was due late January. I was a breached baby (I.E got stuck sideways and was trying to come out that way). I spent a month in the NICU and had 10% chance of survival here I am still stirring up shit 21 years later. "Was it they way I was born?" "No, it's not because of when or how you where physically born but born genetically." "Wow I have so many questions mom!" "Google.If you don't know something educate yourself, expand your mind and knowledge!" My mother was a firm believer that hands-on and outside of the classroom learning was more important sitting in a desk. Not saying desk learning wasn't important but seeing the world and experiencing it was just as important or a bit more so. So I did in fact do a lot of research (I still am to this day). I learned it was mostly genetic and that one part (both in my case) had "it" and passed it on to me and that I would (one day if physically possible) pass it on to my child(ren). I knew my younger brother was different from the age of about 8. He has ADHD and did some research into it and thought it was interesting. We discussed this in one of my high school science courses and I brought it up how my brother had it but I didn't. I thought that was quite confusing because, I'm the oldest how could it have possibly skipped me? And that is where our story begins... it took one teacher, my love of science, research and genetics to start my journey... to discovering the truth about what makes me , well me.