Personal Epiphany; They won't know unless you tell them.

2:29 PM, 4th September 2019

Hey there :) after putting up a poll on instagram where majority voted for a post on a personal epiphany, here I am.

For most of my life, I have been quite a closed-off person. Despite finding it quite easy to befriend people and being a god-awful chatterbox for as long as I remember, everyone who knows me knows that I take quite a long time to truly open up yet there's still a lot I don't like talking about. Family takes the front line in that aspect.

I have grown up in a household where both mental and physical disabilities are parts of everyday conversation. Within the four walls of my house, I have seen enough of it and I grew up believing that everyone understood and that I didn't have to explain myself. That was a wrong move on my part and it didn't take long for me to realise that.

When I tell people about my older brother, for instance, the conversation goes a little something like this;

Them: so do you have siblings?
Me: yes, 2 brothers. Awful brats.
Them: wow, are they both younger?
Me: one's older than me by 4 years. But I'm the actual oldest at home.
Them: what does that even mean?
Me: oh he's in a wheelchair.
Them: I'm so sorry!

Here is where I used to flair up because nothing, and I mean nothing offended me more than those words. 'I'm sorry', in my dictionary, was reserved for things that you could control. Things you were responsible for. Not something you had no control over or could even completely wrap your head around.

I used to ask people what they were sorry for, ask them why they thought saying that was a good idea in the first place. Over time, however, I realised that they didn't mean I'm sorry for what happened, they meant I'm sorry I had no idea and really that was never their fault; it was mine. I did not know, back then, that people lived completely different lives. My everyday was their worst nightmare, in some cases. In others, my scenario had never even crossed their minds.

An aunt of mine took it upon herself to make me understand that there are some things you need to tell people in order for them to truly know you and there are other less important things you could hide away. A fear of oblivion could be hidden away but a disabled brother could not. Especially when said brother is someone who has played a large role in the way my life has unfolded and continues to unfold.

This strange, yet important realisation was much needed in order for me to speak up about myself without coming off as blunt. To me, my older brother is just that: an older brother. Unconventional but still meaning the same. He's someone I respect and look up to, someone to childishly fight with over everything and nothing at all, someone I talk to about my biggest worries, someone who gives me valuable advice, someone who knows me and someone who I trust. To others, he may seem lacking and it may not be apparent at sight that he is the older one between the two of us.

The world finds it difficult to look beyond the wheelchair. To look beyond his disability and to look at him, with all his funny quirks and intellect. He is not spina bifida or cerebral palsy. He is human. He has dreams and beliefs like the rest of us. People are fast to pity whoever they see that has less than them but they forget that seeing is deceiving in all sense of speaking.

My older brother is fluent in four languages. I'm only fluent in two. He prays fardh and sunnah prayers five times a day with tears in his eyes and I feel ashamed to admit that I do not even come close to his level of iman. He is independent with the things he can do and rarely ever asks for help. He understands sorrow and grief but he always, always looks at the brighter side of things. He believes in Qadr fiercely and always reminds me that at the end of the road, only good things await us all.

And I don't know why any one would ever feel sorry for him when they should be feeling sorry for themselves for not seeing the world through his eyes. For not being grateful for the things they are blessed with. For complaining over the smallest of inconveniences. For not understanding the fundamental fact that every little thing happens for a reason.

He has been an absolute miracle and I am proud of all he is. I was once asked if I don't talk about him because I feel ashamed and I had never felt my heartbreak more than it did that day because he is the last thing I would ever feel embarrassed about. Still, I don't enjoy talking about him because he's not fit for small talk. His existence isn't something I should be complaining about or using to my own advantage.

I can't say writing this blog post has been hard but it has been hard coming to terms with the fact that people are allowed to be sorry for not knowing and I am allowed to talk about him within a casual context. The greatest personal epiphany to me has been understanding that people will only see and believe what they choose to until you narrow their choices down for them. I understand that it's not easy to empathise if this has never happened to you but that does not mean you are allowed to sympathise where sympathy is not needed unless it is in the form of duas.

Perspectives are important. Learn to look at things from both ends of the stick. I'm sorry if I've ever snapped at you for the 'i'm sorry's where I didn't believe an apology was needed and I hope you all know that there's always going to be a million things people will hide from you but chances are, they don't do it intentionally and their reluctance has nothing to do with who you are or what you mean to them. Even if they do hide it from you intentionally, trust them and let them take their time.  Bitter pill to swallow; they won't know unless you tell them and even if you tell them, they might not understand :)

On a final note, the reason why I chose this particular epiphany is because my older brother has been in the hospital for the past week and it's been difficult coming to terms with the fact that he's not meant to be here forever. A lot has been going on with regards to his deteriorating health. I genuinely miss the times when he would stroll around the house in his wheely and grin when I asked him to stay in one place. I don't know if it's right for me to write about him here but this has been on my mind for the longest time and I assumed writing about it would help me unscramble my thoughts. Please keep him and the rest of my family in your prayers.

This has been extremely long but I hope you enjoyed reading this :) and I hope it was insightful.

Till next time,
N.