I'm back! It has been almost a month since my last post, however I feel the more that I write about this, the more I know that I need to make room to process, assess, and allow healing to come in every aspect into these memories. So, THANK YOU to each and every one of you for your tremendous grace, love, and patience.
I will never forget the day in grade 4 where my social worker called my mother and informed her that she had been contacted by another social worker locally who was also dealing with a young lady who was selectively mute. She was simply a year older than me and was also still living with it. They connected us and our parents together and a friendship began. It was the first time for each of us, as I would assume for our parents also, that someone fully understood our world. For the first time, there was no real need to have to explain or expand what was going on inside. We both understood. We understood the emotional struggles the other was facing. We knew the dynamics that came along with this challenge, disorder, whatever you may want to call it. Throughout the years, we would constantly remind one another that we were never alone.
At this time in my life, I had started to warm up to teachers and schoolmates. My grade 4 teacher was phenomenal and worked with me every step of the way throughout my school year with her. I had much trust, ease, and security with her. I began to start whispering in class to her and even to some of the students. This was a huge step in the right direction. It is a this point in my schooling where I had to opt to be very creative in terms of reading tests, oral presentations, etc. I was a very intelligent and bright student and there was no way that I was going to allow Selective Mutism to hinder me and have me fail in any way. I was a very determined child. My teacher agreed to allow me to audio record any vocal testing that needed to be done for my school year. Keep in mind how BIG of a risk that was for me. This teacher would hear my voice. It was the start of a shifting point with this disorder/challenge in my life. I would record them, she would grade me, I would continue to excel in my schooling. As much as I did not realize it then, progress was being made. One day at a time. One step at a time.
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