Double exposure--a complicated picture of who I am

I walked home from the student services offices feeling apprehensive, sad, and relieved.  Mike was at the apartment waiting for me.  I thought, "What will I tell him?  What will he say?  Will he be disgusted?"  I was nervous when I saw him sitting at the table but he looked up with interest in his eyes, "How did it go?  What did they say?"  I started to cry and told him that I had been diagnosed with a learning disability.  I asked him, "How can you want to be with someone who is dumb?"  His face registered surprise, and he laughed out loud.  "Why would that even matter to me?  You aren't dumb.  Besides, I'm smart enough for both of us." 

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My first memory of learning was in kindergarten.  I still remember sitting on the floor next to my teacher.  I can still see the disgust in her eyes and hear the frustration in her voice.  I can almost hear her thoughts, "What is wrong with her?  Why can't she get this, it's not that hard."  I wanted so badly to please her but I knew that I was a disappointment to her. 

I loved my first grade teacher.  She made me feel like I was more than just the girl who struggled to learn in her class.  I remember hearing her praise me to Mom at parent teacher conferences about what a sweet girl I was.  I couldn't read well (yet) but I loved to hear her read to the class.  She read with such animation that once the principal came to the class to see if everything was ok.  She said, "Never mind, we are just reading Ramona the Pest and got to a very exciting part!"  On one math assignment she handed me my paper with a huge 100% written in bold red marker.  My assignment was to go home and have every person in the family sign the paper.  I was proud of that 100% and I was so thankful for praise but even then, I remember feeling embarrassed by how much of a big deal every one made of that 100%.  No one else had to bring home their papers to have their family members sign it.  No one else got big fat F's as often as I got either.  I kept that paper with the 100% on it in my personal papers for years and years. 

All through my school years I struggled.  I thought I was dumb.  I was ashamed.  I worked my butt off.  I loved my Physiology class and wondered if I should become a Physical therapist but no matter how hard I tried to remember all the names of the bones and muscles I would forget them almost as soon as I learned them.  I sat in my seat in Math class with my head down, praying the teacher would not call me up to the chalk board.  I could not do basic math problems without hours of help from my brother, let alone have to explain how I got them in the first place.  In Spanish class, the teacher was a bully and she regularly berated anyone who got answers wrong.  She'd call my name out and I'd stare at my book trying to figure out how to count backwards on the clock to tell time in Spanish.  She belittled me so often I dreaded going to class. 

By the grace of God, I made it through high school with a 3.98 GPA.  I applied to BYU early and then waited for months to hear if I was accepted while all my friends each received their acceptance letter.  I knew my score of 24 on the ACT was not good enough to get me in but I had some good things going for me and I knew I had a stellar essay.  I did get accepted to BYU but my problems with learning only magnified.  I could no longer get the grades I worked so hard for in high school.  I got tutors to help me pass my entry level Math class but failed three times consecutively.  I got D's in Statistics and D's in French.  I studied for hours and hours and hours only to walk out of the testing center with a 38%.  I did so poorly my Freshman year that I was put on probation.  I was humiliated.  I was required to talk to a professor about my grades.  He asked me why I was performing so poorly and I told him I had no excuse.  I didn't know why.  I remember his frustration, similar to my kindergarten teacher's, and sat as he lectured me about working harder, managing my social life better, etc. etc.  I left his office feeling like a complete failure.  Maybe he was right.  Maybe I really did just need to try harder.  Maybe I couldn't manage 20 hours of work a week, school, a social life, etc. 

It wasn't until my Senior year of college when I was retaking Statistics and sitting next to my brother on the floor of his living room that I finally got diagnosed.  He was sitting on his bean bag trying to tutor me and he finally said in a gentle voice, "Adrianne, I think you should go get tested on campus to see if you have a learning disability."  Hearing him voice that made my heart sink.  I went home and cried my eyes out.  I made an appointment and after weeks of testing, finally heard the words, "You have a learning disability."  My last two classes to graduate were Math and Statistics and I had taken them a combined time of five times during the six years I was at BYU.  The student services center signed a form allowing me to bypass taking those classes again and I graduated from BYU.  By the time I finished my time at BYU I was so relieved that I didn't even go to the graduation ceremony.  I knew I hadn't actually ever passed those two classes and I knew that I probably never would have been able to and I guess I kind of felt I didn't actually deserve to be celebrated the same way everyone else was. 

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A friend once asked me if I noticed that having a learning disability played a part in my day to day life.  I told her "no" but I've really pondered this question a lot since then and I think I would definitely change my answer to "yes" now.  I think too often I have let it influence my thoughts and decisions.  I am indecisive partly because I don't trust myself to know what the right decision is.  I don't always push myself to do my best or learn a new skill because I've had so many examples in my life where I am unsuccessful or where I fail.  I think I developed a fixed mindset early on in my life.  Having a learning disability has contributed to a low self-confidence and a feeling of not measuring up.  I married a brilliant man who loves me and shelters and protects me and without meaning to, we fell into a relationship where I regularly default to Mike to fix things.  Where he is patient and confident, I am am impatient and don't trust myself so when I don't figure things out easily I turn to him and he takes over and magically everything is better.  But now he is gone and while I can still rely on him and he can still support me, I still have to do this, mostly on my own.  It's been scary for me and hard but I have grown in so many ways.  I feel more confident.  I trust myself and trust that I can find answers or find someone who has them. 

The other day I was on a walk and I had this wave of pride and confidence rush over me and I just felt like, "I'm doing this."  I realized that while having a learning disability is a part of my story, I get to choose what part it plays.  I get to decide how it plays out in my life.  I realized that I've let it define me in ways that I don't like.  I feel like I've really let it hinder my progress in so many ways and I want to tell myself different stories.

I really want to start focusing on what it's given me, not let it take from me. 

Quitting school was actually never even a choice in my mind.  It never actually entered my mind that there was another choice but to finish.  I didn't meet Mike until my Senior year of college.  To this day, I feel as though Heavenly Father purposely kept me from meeting Mike until then because I am fairly certain that if I got married before I finished college, I would have given up.  It was SO HARD.  I would have gotten married and seen my future of being a wife and having babies and I would have chosen to quit.  I believe with all of my heart that God knew I NEEDED to finish.  My degree was so hard to come by and it is one of my most treasured possessions.   

I'm training my mind to believe in progress and not perfection.  When I teach my children I use phrases like, "Wow, you worked so hard on that.  I am confident in your ability to figure it out because of how hard you are trying."  When I don't know something, which is often, I just admit it.  "I don't actually know the answer to that.  Why don't we send a Marco Polo to your uncle?"  or, "Let's go look it up."  It's okay that my 14 year old already knows more than me.  My experiences have allowed me to have compassion and patience when my children don't pick up a subject easily or quickly.  As Piper has learned to read, she has struggled, and I've had the opportunity to remind myself of how I felt as a kindergartner struggling to read and feeling that I let my teacher down.   That reminder has allowed me to take a step back and evaluate how I can help her feel confident and capable and how I can teach her to be patient with herself and it's been amazing to watch her grow and see her happiness as it starts to click. 

This year has been such a growing year for me.  I have become so much more self-aware and able to identify reasons why I behave the way I do so often.  It's going to be a challenge for me to overcome my fixed mindset but I am trying.  Having Mike leave has really forced me to look at myself and forced me to come to terms with what I want to contribute to our relationship and our family and forced to me trust myself and God. 

This post is so disjointed and I've struggled with how to write all my thoughts out.  I decided to post this picture because it literally took me hours (about five) to figure out how to do it.  My 14 year old saw me struggle and today he sat down and did his own double exposure picture in about 1 hour.  That's just the way things work.  It's not a super awesome double exposure picture but I'm still really proud of it and that I figured it out.  I guess that is what I have to give to my kids.  I might not give them the brains that Mike is passing on to them but I can give them my example of trying even if I fail and the example of coming back and trying again.