"You need to keep finding yourself, a little more each day" (Richard Bach, 'Jonathan Livingston Seagull'*)

I'm not the same as you, and that's okay

 

The full realisation of this and what it means, only came to me recently. I realised that I'm not even the same as others who have been diagnosed with Dyspraxia or ADD.

 

Even if I hadn't been diagnosed, I would still not be the same as you (whoever you are, reading this).

What does that even mean?

Who decides, and how limited our world would be if Steve Jobs, or Richard Branson, had conformed?

Funnily enough, it was a pair of cordless Bluetooth headphones that really brought it home to me.

I bought a pair for a long train journey over Christmas, and the fact that they are wireless, is great, but actually essential for my co-ordination and concentration. I no longer find myself becoming entangled in the headphone cables, or scrambling in my handbag to turn down the volume, or move to the next song.

I also find myself unconsciously dancing along to songs whilst waiting for the bus. After a few days of this, one driver in particular remarked on seeing me dance to the music as pulls up to the stand. It makes the wait for the bus more enjoyable and puts a smile on my face.

We can never be exactly the same as someone else - they may be married, or not, have children, or not, even have twins, or not. We're not the same as our parents, siblings or our other halves.

That's why I'm convinced that childhood bullying does so much harm, and can leave long-lasting effects. It's the first point where children are identified as "different" and anyone who is not the target of the bullying, observes what makes people vulnerable, and may be tempted to suppress or hide that in themselves, to appear to be "like everyone else". They want to be accepted, instead of walking across to the child who is being targeted, and saying "you know what? I feel the same way" or "I'm interested, tell me more."

On a wider scale, it leads to conflict amongst adults, but just imagine if we could let, and even *encouraged* children to be their own unique selves, to recognise and accept that we are not all the same, and could find a way to make peace with that?

I'm not the same as you, not just because I have been diagnosed with a learning difficulty, and I see the world differently in some ways. I’m not the same as you because I am an individual; I am one of 7 billion unique human beings on this planet.

I'm okay with that. I'm more interested in the things we have in common, and learning to understand our differences, however small. I believe every one of us has a role to play in this world. I find that fascinating. Maybe we can only figure out what that role is when we stop trying so hard to fit in. When we stop trying to be like everyone else, we begin to seek out our gifts, we can be willing to own our uniqueness, and through that find our place in the world.

Purlgirl

* 'Jonathan Livingston Seagull', by Richard Bach, Turnstone Press, 1972.