Mummy can’t fly

When I was a child my greatest dream was to fly.

Somehow I had to settle with crawling and then walking and finally running.

Sadly, I never did learn to fly.

But I did keep moving forwards.

I guess I had to alter my expectations as to what I could achieve within the limits of my reality.

You could say I invested my energy into things I could achieve – maybe I could never fly but I could manage to hop or skip and even cartwheel along.

Which ties nicely into a subject I want to talk about and that is how do many of us fractured parents move on?

Is it possible to heal our wounds and cleanse our emotional scars?

So many SEN parents who I have journeyed with have their share of wounds to cleanse. As depressing as this is, I can safely say I’m not alone.

Over the last few weeks I’ve faced a few scratches that prick the surface of my raw scars.

As much as I’d like to write about these wrongdoings I know that relationships and trust could be affected. More importantly, it could muddy future waters.

It doesn’t matter what gets said and what gets done – it’s all immaterial.

However, it’s universal for us warrior parents that we get a few challenges along the way.

For each of us the circumstances will vary, but at the heart will be a perceived sense of injustice towards our vulnerable people.

Negativity, rumours, hearsay – shockingly they still surround both me and my daughter and unfairly so.

A child who knows nothing about this silent battle because she is only six years old.

The misjudgement of character could really hamper my daughter’s chance to a fresh start which is not only discriminatory, it’s simply tragic. It overwhelms me; feels like I’m drowning.

I chose to confide in somebody I have built trust in and whose opinion matters to me.

They listened with empathy.

They understood better than I could myself.

Knowing our individual journey as well as they did, they probably could anticipate the damage this could do.

So they gave me some advice.

How did the negativity make me feel?

Try to visualise, then draw it. When I was finished I needed to get rid of it. Burn it. As many times as was needed until that catharsis had taken place.

So I did just that.

I don’t know why but it made me laugh. Uncontrollably, in fact.

Perhaps at the newness of an activity that I just wasn’t used to doing.

Or maybe, at the fact I became so engrossed in my ritual that I nearly set fire to my hand.

Either way, I felt lighter afterwards.

Somehow I am beginning to move forwards.

I can’t change the ignorance and unprofessionalism I’ve experienced in the past, but I can allow it to shape my passion for the future.

More importantly, I can learn from it.

Mummy can’t fly – well I guess that was obvious really, but I certainly can walk. Even though it’s difficult on days I can survive by just about crawling forwards. And then sometimes, just sometimes, there are days when I enjoy the freedom and just run.

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