allyship, aromanticism, asexuality, disability, faith, Mental health, neurodivergence, queer, resources

Naming

As you might assume from my content on this site, I carry a lot of labels. Some are less well-known than others, and some carry inaccurate connotations. Some I am constantly working for greater awareness of, and others I keep quieter about. These labels have been immensely helpful for me, whether they are as specific as a microlabel on the spectrum of aromantic and asexual identity or as broad as the unifying and nebulous umbrella terms that I’m not sure where all I fit within.

Naming is important to self-concept and acceptance of our identity, but there are equally important stages that we move through before and after we first say, “Hi, my name is ____ and I’m ____.” These aren’t strictly linear, but they are numbered for the sake of organization:

  1. Awareness—Congratulations! The first step to putting descriptive words to your experiences and self-concept is to be mindful of how you are interacting with the world and what you see around you, particularly in ways that potentially diverge from the scripts and norms you were given. Notice what’s important to you, what may be missing, and what you feel drawn to.
  2. Curiosity—What does this have to teach you? Are you just reexamining assumptions and norms or is this a new part of yourself that putting a name to might lead to healthy changes? Don’t get too overwhelmed with labels, plans, and changes yet, simply stay curious and open to new growth.
  3. Learning—Research what others with your experience are saying, from a diverse array of angles, not just stereotypes or dominant narratives. This may be uncomfortable as you push past assumptions, but don’t worry about the identity part yet for yourself or taking stances on intercommunity issues. You’re gathering information as an observer to become more informed.
  4. Connection—Ask others you trust or who have expertise in this area, especially lived experience alongside connection to the community and knowledge about things you are learning. The goal isn’t to find a guru but to try to find a whole community that is accepting and welcoming of those exploring and doesn’t gatekeep or enforce rigid behavior rules of who is “in” and “out.” If they seem like potential friends and not moral purity police or a clique to impress, you’re on the right track.
  5. Fitting room—You may return to this place often over your lifetime as you add and change and mix labels, but for now try on some names for your experience and new identity based on what you’ve learned that feel right to you. Something that makes you nervous isn’t all bad, especially if you aren’t sure you’ve “earned” it or “count” or are “enough.” Those are incredibly common at this stage. Hold the term loosely, working through any self-judgment or shame you might feel about claiming it for yourself. Doing this work with a therapist can be really useful, as well as with those connections you’ve made to educators in this area and research you’ve done. However, when in conversation with those who already hold that label, be aware that they are obviously in favor of it for themselves, may try to persuade you to claim it, and will likely not welcome any reservations you have that rest on prejudice or biases against them as a community or individuals. Be kind and considerate of others’ feelings and perspectives as you question your own and keep things about what fits true to your experiences and identity, not about your hesitancy to become “one of them.” Using time in therapy for this can be wiser for this reason so you can work through misconceptions and negative feelings.
  6. Naming—Start thinking of yourself with this new identity name, knowing it is the best information you have about yourself in this moment. It is just one part of the whole of you, even if it feels huge right now. It can help to practice before sharing with others, thinking through what information is important and what the terms involved mean to you. What does this change in you and how are you going to integrate that information into your life for a more authentic, healthy identity, even as you continue to grow and evolve as a mature person?
    • Grief—Finding a new identifier or name for your experience can be liberating, but it can also come with layers of grief. You may regret not knowing earlier; you may resent those who should have helped you along the way and did not; you may wonder how no one saw the signs, have trauma from situations related to this identity, or grieve being forced to conform to norms you could never fully fit. You may lose people, organizations, and places you love or feel comfortable in. Grief in this journey can encompass a wide array of experiences from discomfort to profound loss and can include every stage, including anger and bargaining and denial, not just sadness and acceptance. You may be surprised at the emotions you feel as you begin to examine your past, verbalize your current experience, and connect more with others’ similar experiences. This is normal, and again, something you may want to work through in therapy as you come to accept both the grief and pride in your new self-concept.
    • Pride—Share what you’ve learned about yourself with those you love and who need to know! This could be only a few people or the whole world, and there is no deadline or rush to share it. It is your information to reveal or not. With close connections, you may want to be clear about how you feel about it so they know how to react, and be prepared with a few resources if others want to learn more about your identity and ways they can support you in it. Starting with those you already know and trust (especially if they carry the same or similar labels) can help ease you into more difficult conversations. Try not to generalize if someone reacts poorly; it doesn’t mean everyone else will. It is simply one person’s reaction, and others can celebrate with you or grieve with you or talk through it with you in the ways you need them to.
  7. Get involved—Chances are, there are others out there like you who aren’t aware of this part of themselves. It’s your turn to be one of those connections in stage 4 if you want to be or perhaps create resources and raise awareness like in stage 3. Or you can support your community in whatever way feels best for you, even if it’s more subtle, quiet, or behind the scenes.

Caution: It can be tempting here to conform to “tells” or expectations of your group. The battle at this stage is to stay true to your authenticity in both directions: with the others in your life who may resist this change in you and with the new community you’re part of that may have a preexisting culture, norms, and expectations. These can be as subtle as speech patterns and lingo or as obvious as appearance and lifestyle preferences. Be careful as you find yourself changing your behavior, opinions, presentation, and more that these are truly changes that make you happy, not what you think you are “supposed to” say, think, and do as a member of this group, especially if those cultural unifiers begin to ostracize, judge, or exclude those who don’t conform. Some of those expectations might be healthy with good motives, and others might be silly or even harmful. Stay grounded and true to your own journey, not in anyone else’s concept of “cool” or “enough.”

  1. Stay open—Others’ experiences aren’t going to reflect yours exactly. You know how important it was when you were exploring this part of yourself to have people who could hold space for that. Avoid generalizing everyone’s experiences in the way you personally experience this label, and stay open, curious, and nonjudgmental as you continue to learn and grow, raise awareness, and welcome others in. Even if someone ends up moving on from a label you embraced, their time in that space was still a vital part of their journey, and the same applies to you as well. Don’t let your entire self-concept rest on this name, and continue to hold it loosely even as you identify with it and work for stronger community around it, knowing that “home” and belonging lie within you, not in a label or specific group or lifestyle. At the same time, endeavor to be a safe refuge for others finding that sense of belonging within themselves as well. You never know when they might teach you something too, just when you thought you had become the expert or educator!
disability, essays, neurodivergence

It is for freedom we have been set free

Content warning for child abuse story. Start at 3:24 if this is a trigger for you

First, it is a great feeling to be able to understand and process every word from a speaker without needing the captions. That almost never happens. I feel like I actually processed every word!

Aside from speaking skills, this was so healing. And not only as someone with APD but the heart behind it holds several jewels I think we all need to learn from. Dr. Alexander approaches her work in a way that feels more like ministry than many “ministers” we hear about online.

“I know what it feels like … to be imprisoned, but I also know how it feels to be set free.”

This is the crux of it, right from the start. Those of us deconstructing or evolving or just plain leaving conservative and evangelical church traditions know that feeling of being “set aside and dismissed.” Queer people who have lived in the closet know the feeling of being restrained inside that metaphor, of being not only hidden but trapped. Neurodivergent and mentally ill and disabled people know this prison that is their own mind and body. So many of us who resonate with a name like “Invisible Cake Society” have had to work through our traumas while it felt like no one could perceive us and no one would believe us.

Until we are seen and refuse to be silenced. Until we come out, whether in a quiet, subtle way or an explosion of colors. Until we learn more and advocate for ourselves. Until we hear our therapists and doctors say, “Look how far you’ve come.” That doesn’t always mean physical healing or acceptance of others or a thriving faith or that life is smooth sailing. But at some point we take a step, usually with help from those who have gone before, and walk into freedom out of that system or organization or way of thinking or relationship. Out of places of (or internalized) ableism and queerphobia and trying to pray it all away or hustle our way around it. Out of the cage.

That step is the first part of our story. We know how it feels to be set free. But our freedom isn’t just for us.

“I have made the conscious decision to believe every client who tells me they are struggling.”

So many of us need this from our leaders, our friends, our family. And now, being on the journey of learning freedom, we can offer that empathy to others. We can believe them when they say they are grieving instead of comparing suffering. We can listen instead of ranking and gatekeeping identity. We can learn before dismissing and ask the deeper questions.

Sarah Bessey and Jeff Chu have been talking about this a lot for The Evolving Faith Podcast this season. Your healing is not just for you. Your journey into the wilderness is not a solo trip forever. You may feel alone at the start, but there have been many before and many alongside and many will follow. What will you do with the gifts you have been given? Who has been hurt by the systems you were invested in, and where do you invest now? What will you do with the vulnerable stories shared and the wisdom you have learned through hard experience and the responsibility to do better now that you know better? We can’t answer these like homework questions. They too are lifelong companions we bring with us.

You are good,” and we are so lucky to have you.

This is our work. To speak imago Dei, to make sure that we have treated everyone with respect and value and dignity, to continue the word of goodness to the next generation and to our neighbors who have been traumatized too. Who have been marginalized too. Who have been desperate to escape. Who have been given the diagnosis with condescension and no options. Who have been told to change themselves to belong. Who have been trapped in need of freedom.

The freedom we have felt.

As Kate Bowler says, “You are not the bad thing.”

You are good, you are believed, you are seen, and you are free.

disability, Mental health, Poetry

The Unnamed.

Photo by SHVETS production on Pexels.com

This is a prayer for the mystery case

The pain with no clear cause
The symptoms that don’t match
The lab test that comes back clear

The numbers say you’re fit as a fiddle
So why is your body screaming
As you beg the white coats to care

This is a prayer for the ones unsure
If they deserve to belong here
Disabled. As if it’s a title you earn

This is for the ones who have a hard time
defending themselves against the “just”s
Because maybe this one will be right

And it’s less hope and more desperation
As you swipe your card and try it.
You’re running out of time

You’re running out of your mind
Trying to figure out how to survive
In a new normal each day

And when people ask, you say sure!
Because it still doesn’t occur to you
You’ll be gritting your teeth the day of the event.

But you don’t have a name yet
Or ever. Maybe. Maybe you won’t know
What to tell people when you say sorry

And they don’t understand fully
Because yesterday you seemed fine
And it’s hard to describe what you feel

The symptom list inconclusive
Is hard to describe without
A name for what’s within

This is a prayer for our minds and hearts
and stomachs as they churn
with grief and anxiety and fear

For the choices we make with no guidance
For the questions with no answers
For the mystery that leaves us without

Community. Support. Resources. Research. Plans. Treatment. Hope.

I pray you find a doctor with undying curiosity
I pray you find empathy in a nurse’s needle
I pray you find a treatment that works

I pray your insurance covers you with no fuss
Like a blanket on a soft couch
With all you need within reach.

I pray you hang on to tomorrow
Breathe in and out, do what you can,
And in time you find a name.

essays, faith, Mental health, queer

For those whose bodies are policy issues

Today, there is much discussion on embodiment, what it means to show up in a space as your full self, and to be present in your body wherever you are. The topic du jour, in particular, is church attendance. Can we experience the “real” church online?

This got me thinking about how if you’re going to talk about embodied presence, you need to be aware of what it means for someone to show up in their marginalized body, whether in a physical or online space. The risks it takes and the emotional cost it demands.

Continue reading “For those whose bodies are policy issues”
essays, Mental health

You deserve the help you need

No amount of busyness or responsibility cures clinical depression, anxiety disorders, or neurodivergence. I believe people when they say they “just” needed (a kid, a partner, a job change, spirituality, a move) and now they feel better. But that’s not a cure for our disorders.

Sometimes in life, we do need a change. Whether it’s a weekly “me time” or a crosscountry move or a new business, change can be good. But you cannot outrun your disorder. You can’t out-schedule it or out-perform it or out-laugh it. You can’t fill your life with enough people. You can only face it. Discover your values. Accept what you have been given and commit to living according to those values. Set your boundaries, and unravel your shame. Deconstruct and reconstruct and get help from people qualified and trustworthy to give it.

The only way is through. The only way is honesty with yourself and your past, present, and future. It takes lament and commitment, feeling the pain and not avoiding and learning to be whole while shattered. There is no easy out or clever trick or shortcut.

We take our meds and pay for the help we can afford and research, listen, and grow. We do what’s healthy for us emotionally, mentally, and physically. Knowing sometimes it will be a choice between one or the other. And we forgive ourselves and keep going when we hurt ourselves. We can’t outsmart it, but we find balance in the tumult. Slowly, over time. Like a raging river wearing on a rock.

We pray, “just enough for today, God.” That’s all we need. To keep breathing another day. and eventually, it is easier to breathe some days.

But we never graduate from this. We never achieve enough or get promoted out of a disorder. We can make it work and learn to live with it and do things to reduce it. But those are done in humility, with the step of facing it, saying I cannot hide in fake fine. If you are struggling this month, this year, this lifetime. It’s not too late and it’s not too early. You don’t have to wait until you hit the bottom. You don’t have a lack of will or spiritual weakness or identity of failure; you have a disability.

I don’t know that I’m there yet to be proud of my disabilities, but this #DisabilityPrideMonth, please don’t let anyone tell you that you just haven’t tried hard enough or are not busy enough or have too much time on your hands. You deserve the help you need.