Love Warrior, Glennon Doyle, (c) 2016. Flatiron Publishing. (Goodreads)
One day I pass by my computer with Amma in my arms and notice that some of my Facebook friends are participating in something called “25 Things”. They’re posting lists of interesting facts about themselves and I think, Maybe I could make a list, too. I consider that this might be a way to reach people outside my home, to complete a sentence, to tell the truth, to prove to myself and others that I still exist. Yes, I decide. I do want to make my own list. I put Amma down for a nap, sit at the computer, and start typing: …
I sit and stare at the words I’ve written: stark, bold, and unapologetic. I feel thrilled. Yes. There I am. Right there. That’s not lost Glennon or found Mrs. Melton. That’s not my representative. That’s the real me. I want to learn more about me, so I keep writing…
I’ve spent my entire life using “pretending really hard” as a strategy.
Now that I know that, I want to tell the truth. But, to do that, I have to first find the truth.
A little truth, to kick us off:
I realized rather late in life that I have ADHD. It explains my troubles with time blindness, memory, focus and hyperfixation, rejection sensitivity, and maybe 1-2 dozen other things.
I’m also starting to realize that I’m probably also on the autism spectrum, which would help to account for my intensely picky eating as a kid, my “bossiness” (rigid play), sensory issues, etc.
I love books. LOVE them.
I love music.
I express and receive a lot of love and affection via shared interests. “OMG, me too!” was the herald of many an excellent friendship.
I got into computers (professionally and re: hobbies) because of timing, and my family.
Timing: I was a kid when the home computer hit the market. By the time I got to high school, I was able to take both Programming I and II.
Family: Both parents were computer users, and my older brother was an early-days computer tinkerer.
I was born somewhere cold and beautiful. I have always loved places that are cold and beautiful.
I have always wanted to write. I did end up writing a fair amount for my career, but I always imagined I’d write fiction. I haven’t managed to get past a number of mental blocks, yet, to do so.
My memory has gotten progressively worse as I’ve aged.
I can account for some of that with ADHD, some of it with hormone changes…but even so, my memory is abysmally bad.
One of the upcoming projects here will, I hope, be a series of interviews with people who have known me well, and/or for a long time. Just like the book “Brain on Fire: My Month of Madness”, I need to recreate my own history.
And so: How does one spend a lifetime learning to be different, be quiet, be smaller, be less weird, be less you….and then tell the truth? How do you go about finding that out?
