I recently stumbled upon some old photos of myself when I was 18 years old. I had to stare at them for a while, trying to remember exactly who I was back then. So, let me tell you a little bit about 18-year-old Hannah.
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| Image description: A selfie of Hannah, a white teenager with long red hair, wearing a pink and blue cap and glasses that came out of the 1800s. She has her head tilted and a faint smile. The background is of pine trees and a beach. End of image description. |
18-year-old Hannah was an idealistic little thing... and I do mean little. (I got called, "Skinny Minnie" and "Broomstick" more times than I can count.) As you can see, I was a hippie/boho chick even then. (But what the HECK is up with those glasses? I look like a 90-year-old grandmother.)
18-year-old Hannah was... well, I won't say she didn't have trauma, but she was in a safe and caring environment where she felt free to let her awkward, geeky, weird little bookworm self shine through. She was, at that time, completely unscarred by bullying. Maybe that's one of the things I miss about her the most... 18-year-old Hannah knew no enemies. Only friends. She adored the world, and let it be known freely and joyfully. She loved fiercely, fearlessly, adopting all who knew her into her immediate family. She had countless brothers, sisters, aunties, uncles.. the list goes on.
18-year-old Hannah had the gift of seeing people's true selves, but more than that... finding the good in everyone. She couldn't imagine a world where people were mean on purpose, so she freely gave second chances... and third chances... and fourth, and fifth, and sixth.
18-year-old Hannah splashed bubbles of joy on everyone she met. She had this throaty little awkward giggle that endeared her to everyone, and it was SO EASY to make her smile. Just make her feel welcomed or included, that was all she ever wanted. Her deepest desire was to love people, and have them love her back. She wanted to fit in, to belong to someone.
18-year-old Hannah was wildly in tune with her emotions. She flared with anger, she sobbed when her feelings were hurt, she was brokenhearted when her friends moved away, and her high-pitched laughter would shatter glass when she was joyful... which was most of the time.
18-year-old Hannah was shy. She was so quiet, that people at times forgot she was there.. but it was when she was invisible, that she saw and heard the most. 18-year-old Hannah had already been grown up for a long, long time... but she was still to remain a child far into the future.
18-year-old Hannah loved to lie on the grass, arms outflung, breathing in the scent of the grass and the trees and the wind. She was never ashamed of going barefoot, dancing in the rain, splashing through puddles, exploring and finding wonder in every fuzzy moth and flower petal. She loved to play tag, and hide-and-seek, and never gave up trying to be coordinated enough to play sports.
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| Image description: Hannah, a white teenager with long red hair, sitting on a wooden bench at the beach. She is wearing a pale pink sleeveless top, darker pink plaid shorts, and she is swinging her bare feet which are covered with wet sand. She is squinting at the camera with a wide grin because the sun is in her eyes. End image description. |
Did I tell you she was awkward? Oh, 18-year-old Hannah could never quite figure out where all the bumps and bruises came from, or how she managed to trip over her own shadow, bump into doorways, fall out of chairs, and bang her head multiple times a week. Sometimes her words wouldn't come out right, and she froze when she was asked a question.
18-year-old Hannah was already starting to build a shell around her sensitive little heart to protect her from the pain of being left again, and again, and again... but there was still so much tenderness, innocent wonder, and trust there too. 18-year-old Hannah always took people at face value, believed that they meant what they said, and trusted that they'd follow through on their promises.
18-year-old Hannah, knowing what she knew about people, also understood herself. She knew she was not like everyone else, but she was carefree enough not to let it bother her too much just yet. Somehow, when she peered too far into the future, she could see her own pain there... and while it scared her, she resolved to never cause pain to anyone else. For, you see, 18-year-old Hannah poured out onto a broken world all the love she had in her heart, without ever saving any for herself. She loved the world as ferociously as she despised herself for her weaknesses and flaws and shortcomings... all the reasons she sought to love others, for the unlovable-ness she saw in her own self.
18-year-old Hannah was incredibly strong. But also incredibly fragile, because she believed she was not worth protecting. She opened her heart wide, and when people threw darts through her wide-open defenses, she gritted her teeth and opened her heart wider, believing that to defend herself meant to harm others.
18-year-old Hannah was Autistic.
But she didn't have a diagnosis of Autism.
Or a diagnosis of C-PTSD.
Those came much later, when a much older, much more tired, and much more jaded Hannah decided that she was going to be selfish for the first time in her life; she was going to block out the world. She was going to pour her love on her own battered heart. She was going to face herself with wonder and curiosity. She was going to give to herself the adoration that she'd given to others for so long.
She was going to heal.
And she is still healing... slowly, with many mistakes and back-steps and slips and slides and tumbles and more bruised knees and a bruised heart. But she is healing. And she is healing in honor of 18-year-old Hannah, who still pushes me forward, and tells me, "Just keep going."
I'm not doing it for me.
I'm doing it for her.
Because she's still in there, somewhere.
And she deserves to have the life she always wanted.
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| Image Description: Hannah, a white teenager with waist-length red hair, stands shin-deep in a lake with her pink plaid shorts rolled up so as not to get them wet. She is looking at the camera with a toothy smile and behind her are floating buoys making the edge of the safe swimming area. End image description. |
