Defining

~ The ability to understand and share the feelings of another ~

This is me.  To a fault. I'm the definition of the word.

Worrying. Stressing.  Overthinking.  Over-analyzing. Genuine Concern.

I've been told many times that I am an extremely sensitive person.  That I need to let things go.  That I need to relax.  That sometimes ... things just are they way they are.  

I still don't believe it and I never will.  Sometimes ... I think the message just hasn't sunk in for certain people personally. 

The way that it hadn't sunk in for me.  That is, until our son was diagnosed with Autism and was no longer a "normal functioning child".

From that moment, my heart softened.  My entire being became protective of my little boy.  More-so than it had been already.  My emotions grew stronger and I became more sensitive.  I was becoming the exact woman that God created me to be.  The mother to this very special boy and his 3 siblings.  I am exactly who Brecken needs as a mother.  I was chosen for him and I am thankful for that in each moment of my life. 

Before I had children I like to think that I was a pretty good person.  Great person? No.  Perfect? By no means.  I was courteous and pleasant.  I was kind and I thought I was pretty genuine.  I can remember when I was in the 11th grade and we had our annual Christmas Dance.  It was a pretty decent time (Andy and I fought because he hated dances and I thought he was lame). So when I say decent, I mean an 11th grade girls nightmare.  The night was winding down and somehow the next thing I know I was on the dance floor, slow dancing with Teddy.  Teddy was in the special education class in our high school.  He had a brain aneurysm and was not a typical developing teen.  It is one of my favorite memories of high school.  I hold onto hope that Teddy remembers it as well.

All of this being said, I was still an ignorant and immature person.  I would use the word retarded to talk about my phone ... my hair ... the cashier that couldn't count my change back correctly ... it was a word that was typical in my vocabulary. 

It wasn't until I had a child of my own that is

 ~  less advanced in mental, physical, or social development than is usual for one's age ~ 

that I realized how insensitive and ignorant I had been in the past.  My child is by definition a term that I had used to call and refer to everything as stupid.  And I will tell you now, MY CHILD is far from being stupid.  I could go on for days about the traits he possesses and I can assure you that not one of them would be stupid.

Many times it takes a personal experience to ground you.  To make you think twice.  To help you become a better version of yourself.  I am eternally grateful that I am a changed person.  I don't judge people.  I let people be themselves.  I stand up for what I feel strongly about. I am more open.  More honest.  More loving.  More accepting.  More empathetic than I have ever been.  

So when you use the word retarded.  Think twice.  It's verbal garbage.  It's offensive.  It's by definition ... my son.