The Start of the Journey

The Pain of Writing

Maybe I should just start by saying it’s taken me weeks to write this blog post. Before I could make myself sit down and write, I had to shove aside all the clutter in my mind and tune out the chaos of my house. That proved and is proving to be an ongoing struggle. I’ve been experiencing an incredible lack of focus these past few months, and I don’t think I’m the only one. That’s part of the reason for this blog. I need to write instead of letting thoughts tumble endlessly in my head until they rob me of sleep and make me feel sad and stuck. But I also need accountability and direction. I don’t create when I don’t feel a sense of urgency. This is partly because I’m lazy and partly because I have a gift for stopping literary endeavors before I even get started. 

This is what happens. I sit down with my open laptop, excited to start writing. Then I pause. I could write about literally anything. What should I pick? Then my mind goes blank and I start to feel stuck. Then I say, “screw it! I said I was going to write, so I’m going to write, whatever it takes.” And I use the Stream of Consciousness method, vomiting out everything onto a page. Then my internal editor rears its ugly head, sometimes mid-sentence, and screams at me that it’s all garbage and no matter how long I work it will never be good enough and this is all a waste of time. So I give up. Close the laptop. I’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe. In reality, I try again in a month or so, with the same results. Then rinse and repeat. 

That’s part of why I’m launching this blog: I want to get past that wall and create a new experience around writing. I want to develop my voice and my confidence while sharing my ideas with an audience. This blog is the vehicle through which I hope to do that.

So now that you know about this blog’s origins, I should probably give you an explanation of its name and tell you a little more about myself. 

Being a Blind Girl

People are really freaked out by the word “blind.” It’s not uncommon for people to ask hesitatingly if I was “born … that way.” I even remember one gentleman who watched my orientation and mobility instructor and me from his porch during many of our lessons and one day finally asked my instructor, “How long has she had that problem?” (Yes! he addressed my teacher even though I was right there, but that’s a problem for another blog post.)

Then there are the people who don’t bring it up at all. Often they have at least a couple looming questions about how I function, but they’re afraid they’ll offend me by using the wrong words, so they sit with their preconceived notions instead of asking anything. They try—with varying levels of success—to pretend they don’t see that I’m blind. But there’s a tension that lingers in the air, and eventually something will happen to make them smack into my blindness like a brick wall. Everything might be fine and dandy while we’re sitting and chatting, but if we have to change locations and it’s an unfamiliar area, suddenly they realize I can’t just follow them and they don’t know what to do or how to act. Sometimes this results in them trying to grab me by the shoulders or put a hand on my back and physically steer me before I can get out of their grasp and take their elbow instead. (Ugh!) Or they try to hand me something without telling me, so that their hand just awkwardly hovers holding something in the air while I’m oblivious. Or they start talking about a movie and then get tripped up and haultingly ask me if I’ve ever listened to it. All this to say that people are scared of the word “blind,” and their fear of that word tends to make things a lot more awkward. 

Then there’s the academic discussion of proper usage. Some people argue that “person who is blind” is a better phrase to describe someone because it puts the person first and relegates the blindness to secondary status. But “I am a person who is blind”—or worse, “I am a woman who happens to be blind”—have always sounded cumbersome and stilted to me. 

My Perspective

I’m blind. It’s simple as that. (Oh, sidenote: do NOT get me started on idiotic terms like “differently abled.” I’m not an alien species with a strange set of superpowers. I’m blind.) I can’t see. I can’t read the titles of books at the bookstore or the names of streets. I read braille and use a cane, and my computer reads the screen out loud. These are facts of life. There’s no way around them. Blindness is a real limitation. There’s no point in pretending otherwise. But it’s also not something to be afraid of, and it even comes with a couple perks—being able to read in the dark is one example. So I have no problem just saying “I’m blind,” or thinking of myself as a blind girl. It’s an easy-to-say, accurate descriptor, and there’s not much more to it than that.

About Me 

So we’ve established that I’m blind. That’s just one part of who I am. It means I have to adapt and live my life a different way sometimes, but it’s by no means all there is too me. 

Onto the rest, then. What should my readers know about me right off the bat? My family is one of the most important things in my life and has been instrumental in shaping the person I am today. (I’m the second of seven kids, so that’s a lot of people doing the shaping.) I’m a lover of strong tea, turkey sandwiches, and fantasy novels. I play a lot of Dungeons and Dragons. I sing, play the piano, and write songs. (For some reason, I’m able to get out of my head long enough to create when it’s in a musical form. Haven’t figured out why yet.) I delight in the study of languages and literature. I have strong opinions about politics, but politics also make me nauseous and I’m never fully confident that I have enough facts to back up my opinions. I care deeply about my relationship with God but tend to neglect and resist it, and I want to do something meaningful with my life but I don’t know what that thing is yet. 

Now this is the part where I ask you to buy what I’m selling. Come with me on this journey. I’ll write down my observations about life as it unfolds. I’ll give you my honest take on what it’s like living with a disability. I’ll explore questions of faith and spirituality. I’ll tell you of my dreams and my passions, of my fears and my flaws. I can’t make any promises about the destination of this journey, but I can promise I’ll try to have fun and entertain you along the way. And if all goes well, we may all end up a little wiser than when we started.