When I was younger I was a hyper child, this one story my mom likes to tell people is about.. We had this song and in the song it says walk a mile in someone else’s shoes, in my brain I couldn’t understand why or who would want to put on another person’s shoes and walk, my mom would use this as an explain for years to tell people how I thought, I at first thought my mom told this story because she was annoyed by it, but then I learned it was because my mom loved the way I thought..

My mom wasn’t perfect she made mistakes, but when she would kiss me on the head and wait for me to hug her, I know my mom loves me. I know she would do anything for me. I love her, I don’t and didn’t always show it growing up.

When I was 10 years old, we went to this homeschool group on Fridays and I was having to switch teachers because of my normal teacher had her baby earlier, so I went to class unknowing of this change, and my mind didn’t like seeing the new teacher there, I got really nervous and tried to calm myself down but nothing worked and I slowly got worse, as I sat in my normal seat all I wanted was my mom.

So I told the teacher I needed to go and she let me. I went to where my mom was, I was crying and I was scared, I couldn’t find my mom at first which made me worse, when I found her she pulled me close and she didn’t yell at me she didn’t tell me I was stupid for being upset she just held me.

She never asked me what was wrong she knew. She never told me to calm myself down she knew I was trying. She asked “What do you need?” I told her I needed something to eat, my mom got me a cookie she somehow had, and we stayed in this room and she let me calm down. She sang me a song and she told me “Baby its okay to get upset, I love you anytime.” I remember this because it was the first time in my life I knew for a fact that my mom didn’t care that I was different.

She didn’t care that my brain was so different that even I knew not what it was doing she loved me all of me. She loved my differences she loved me. I wasn’t Shay the person who had panic attacks I was Shay who loved life. I was her baby, I still am, I mean I am the youngest so sadly no matter what I do I’m going to be her baby.

When you grow up with a difference you learn that whats different about you is okay, that its okay to be different and that the world is going to tell you that you need to be more like everyone else, but I remember and remind myself all the time that my mom she will love me for not be like everyone else, that my mom doesn’t love me in spite of my differences, but she loves me as a whole, she loves everything about me.

I’m sure raising me was hard, and I’m sure all the times I said mean things and felt like no one understood (because no one truly can) she loved me, she cared for me, she wanted me to be her child.

So this has been my Mothers Day post on Sunday my day of randomness….

Thanks to Sherri Trussell for raising me and teaching me to write, so I can now write this post to you! Love you mom!!

Shayweaseling it!!