I am so excited to announce that I am collaborating with World Supermoms! With so many expectations on women and mothers, it can be difficult to be a woman! However, there is no such thing as the ideal woman or mother. World Supermoms is a nonprofit organization that uses their platform to help each mother and woman in general embrace what makes her special and unique. Recently, Supermoms reached out to me to republish one of my blog posts! That blog post is Imperfectly Perfect: My life with Turner Syndrome. This is perfect timing, since February happens to be Turner Syndrome Awareness Month! I am very proud of that post, and I am so honored that World Moms enjoyed it enough to republish it! If you haven’t taken a look at that post yet, visit World Supermoms to give it a look! Click here to read the post! Thank for this opportunity World Supermoms, and thankyou to my readers for visiting! Until next time!
I suppose that makes me a bit of a miracle baby, or so I like to think at times. I struggled with low self esteem growing up. I always saw nothing but my flaws, and the bullying and I went through during my time in school didn’t help. There was also the fact that I had disabilities and was very dependent on my family. I felt like a burden to them. No matter how hard I tried, I could never fully shake off those feelings, and I hated that. There would be times when someone would say or do something that would make me happy, or I would be doing an activity that would make me happy, but by the time I look around I’m back to feeling low. There would also be times when there was a reason I was down, and other times when I just couldn’t explain why I was feeling depressed. When I was a teen, I kept thinking that one day I will let those feelings go when I finally became an adult. I am now a fully grown adult, and still struggle a bit with these issues. I have learned that what I was going through was not just a phase, or something that I was easily going to get through.
Thankfully, I have a very supportive family. My family has been incredibly patient with me, and extremely supportive. To me, they have been like my therapists. They listen to my concerns, and even encourage me to open up. They never make me feel ashamed of my concerns or feelings when I do share them, and they never make me feel ashamed of my struggles. They also never make me feel like a burden. They are always making sure that I know I’m loved, and that I have a purpose and place in my family and in the world. Considering that I was blessed to be a part of the small one percent of fetuses so h Turner Syndrome to make it to term, I can’t help but to feel they are right.
My mental health journey is still ongoing. I’m still finding myself, still growing. I’m still struggling with my self esteem. I don’t know why I was part of that small 1 percent, but I do know that I am willing to continue fighting through this crazy journey called “life” to find out. After all, if there is one thing I know, it’s this: we are all here for a reason.
Note: My inspiration for this post was fellow blogger and disability advocate Amanda Gene, who is also very lucky to be alive today. Give her blog visit and read her story here.
“Do you wear bras?”, a high school classmate asked me one day.
“No…”, I replied with anticipation, waiting for her to get to the point.
“You need to”, my classmate said, pointing at my “headlights”.
That was during my last year in high school. Since I had just started showing signs of puberty that year, I did not see the need for a bra. Needless to say, however, after what my classmate told me, I never went out without a bra again. I was what one might call a “late bloomer”, or so I thought. During the summer before my first year in high school, I was diagnosed with Turner syndrome. Turner syndrome is a genetic disorder that affects girls. The condition is characterized by the partial or complete absence of one X chromosome. Many girls find out they have the condition around the same age I did, because one important marker of Turner syndrome is the absence of puberty. Girls with Turner syndrome generally can not go through puberty without hormone replacement treatment (which I started during my last year in high school). I always knew that I was different from my female peers. I finally found out why.
When I hit my preteens I could not wait to transform into a beautiful swan. I watched all my female peers grow into beautiful young women, feeling more and more left behind with each passing year as I continued to show no signs of blooming. I couldn’t help thinking that I will always be an ugly duckling. I will never look like my female classmates, or the beautiful models I see on television or in magazines. My mother always tried to help me build a positive self image, but I just couldn’t let go of the feelings in my heart.
Not only did I feel unattractive, I also felt incomplete. Women with Turner syndrome are usually infertile, and I was told by doctors that I was likely no exception to that rule. This revelation made me believe that I was not a “real” woman. I did not look like a “real” woman, and my body did not function like one either. It took some time for me to realize that there is so much more to a woman than her appearance. A woman is not defined by her breasts or hips, nor is an ample amount of them the mark of a beautiful woman. Beauty and women come in different forms. A woman who undergoes a mastectomy is not any less of a woman because of her lack of breasts. A woman who is infertile is not less of a woman because of her inability to bear children. I am not less of a woman because of some characteristics I lack due to Turner syndrome. Every woman is unique, but the one thing we have in common is that we all have our own special brand of beauty.
In a world where many people feel the need to get cosmetic surgery to “fix” what they see as imperfections, it is hard to be confidant and not feel the need to join the bandwagon. It takes strength to follow one’s own path instead of following the crowd, and over the years I have been slowly trying to build the strength to come into my own. I am learning to look past my “imperfections” so that whenever I look in the mirror I see a work of art