The late nights are loud and filled with thoughts while my gaze captures the stars shining as one question keeps popping into my mind. Who am I? Just somebody with two eyes. Two ears. One nose. One mouth. Who really am I? People have labeled me based on my gender, my religion, and my appearance. The only real question that remains open is why? Am I not who you guys are or how society expects me to be? Don’t I have what others have? Why am I being treated differently? Why am I being labeled? Why am I different from what is shown? I have what anyone can have. I am who I am to be proud of. I am a human being. I have emotions and feel pain like anyone. So who really am I?
My name is Misunderstandsingh and I have a disability.
I extended my hand out and sought help, but no one was there for me. Walking through the hot coals with my bare feet, help was nowhere to be found. I am alone, yet I am happy. I continue to hide my pain and walk out my door with a smile shown on my face. Being used and mistreated became such a daily thing, that I accepted it as a part of my life. Life has become lonely, almost as if it has become my personality. Away from the world, doors have opened too many prayers that have laid between me and god. Taking one step at a time with one foot in front of the other, success will always find its way. So what is really holding me back? Disability.
Being a 31-year-old individual, I always had a dream to fulfill. We came to this world to create a future, letting our story become a history. It is almost every day where one must start their day with a positive mindset, but that is only if this cold world can become our safe place. Keeping my head up high while beating this tough battle. I am tired of being labeled in my world, discriminated against in this cruel society, and judged for being myself, and yet only one question wanders through the late nights… why?
After all, in the end, we are all human.
Being labeled differently has become a diverse situation where no one wants to accept this type of society. I wear a turban but am known as a terrorist, and a hijabi is treated as an outsider. Why has society biased against our own people? Feeling like an outsider has made me feel lost in my own mind, which is why I need to ask where did WE go wrong?
Everyone wants to make a difference, but who is actually willing to create those changes for the better… There is only one answer, no one. We all want the change to happen, but that is not until we have a superhero come in and create a better pathway. Why couldn’t that be you or me with the confidence to build a safe place? Are we the ones who decided if things get better? What is the difference between me and the one who actually created a better environment? In my view, I can say it’s nothing. Sometimes you have to ask yourself, “What am I doing with my life? What am I truly capable of doing? What are my talents?” Try listening to your inner voice. Make decisions by asking your heart and mind first. Sounds weird? It really works.
Disability.
I extended my hand out and sought help, but no one was there for me. Walking through the hot coals with my bare feet, help was nowhere to be found. I am alone, yet I am happy. I continue to hide my pain and walk out my door with a smile shown on my face. Being used and mistreated became such a daily thing, that I accepted it as a part of my life. Life has become lonely, almost as if it has become my personality. Away from the world, doors have opened too many prayers that have laid between me and god. Taking one step at a time with one foot in front of the other, success will always find its way. So what is really holding me back? Disability.
The late nights are loud and filled with thoughts while my gaze captures the stars shining as one question keeps popping into my mind. Who am I? Just somebody with two eyes. Two ears. One nose. One mouth. Who really am I? People have labeled me based on my gender, my religion, and my appearance. The only real question that remains open is why? Am I not who you guys are or how society expects me to be? Don’t I have what others have? Why am I being treated differently? Why am I being labeled? Why am I different from what is shown? I have what anyone can have. I am who I am to be proud of. I am a human being. I have emotions and feel pain like anyone. So who really am I?
Reborn.
