My life with Muscular Atrophy

This is my autobiography and I hope that you'll like it. I'm a Danish author, and this autobiography is actually published as a book in Denmark. I'll translate some of the chapters into English, and I'd be really happy if you'd let me know what you think. I'm considering to translate the whole book and sell it in England and America, so I'd also like to hear if it's a book you'd be interested in buying? Thank you.

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1. This is where I belong

Everyone have dreams of what they want to achieve in life. A typical thing is to fit in. All of us want a place where we truly can be who we are.

I think it has been incredibly difficult to find a place where I fitted in, because where exactly does a person in a wheelchair fit in? It’s impossible to be a part of any kind of sport, and my level of energy is absolutely not as high as others, so a simple thing like meeting a friend after school can easily make me too tired. So how am I supposed to fit in, if I can’t be a part of any activity?

Personally I easily feel like I’m an outsider, because I’m not able to do the same things as everyone else. Often I’m that person who sits by her table all the time, simply because I don’t have energy to drive everywhere constantly. It’s easy to become boring, when you aren’t following the pack. That isn’t something that makes you feel like you’re home.

I remember how awful it was in 6th grade when we should have a discussion on class followed by a game. It was something we had every Friday. The only good thing about that “lesson” was the cake. Well, we always started talking about the problems and found some solutions, and then it was time to play. Unfortunately they always wanted to play football, which I of course couldn’t join. Then I asked the teacher if we sometimes could play something I could join, and she said: “Of course.” The class didn’t like that idea. They told me that I just could look at them while they were playing. I did that most of the time, but it was absolutely not fun.

It really hurts, when no one understands, that I can’t do the same things, and to sit on the sideline and watch others have fun, does absolutely nothing good for your self-worth.

However I had a place in school where I fitted in. I admit that I couldn’t always see it back then, but today I’m sure. There were others like me, people with a disability. I know we were in different states of mind, but we still had something in common and that’s the only thing that matters.

To have something in common is what it takes to fit in. That’s how I feel. I need to have something in common with the people I’m spending time with, and I don’t think that’s easy to find. I’ve looked for a place like that since I left school, which I did a couple of years ago.

How do you find the right place? First step is to try. Maybe it doesn’t go well at the beginning, and it might seem hopeless, but if you don’t try, you’ll never know what could’ve been a success.

I finally found my place in 2012. It was the year were I went to 9th grade for the second time, because the local authority didn’t know where to send me. It was because of the money. That year turned out to be the year of my life. I performed with the band of our school, got to help the teachers in the younger classes and I got introduced to Movellas. That year I grew as a person and I found something that I liked.

Movellas is a free page used by young people who like to read and write. My Danish teacher got the idea of making us all write a short story and publish it. I remember how badly people hated the idea of others could read it. I was the only one who loved it.

Afterwards I chose to stay, because I really liked the concept and of course because I loved to write. At that time there was nothing serious about it. I’d always been told that I was good and someday I’d get published. Yeah right. I wasn’t that good.

It’s awesome to hear that people like my writings, and I have always said “thank you” followed by a smile, but it was hard to believe. They could as well say it because they felt sorry for me because of my disability. That happens. After I’ve got my name in a couple of books, I’ve started to believe people when they tell me that I’m talented.

The first time I got published was in November 2012. I won a competition at Movellas. It was overwhelming and all of the winners were invited to Copenhagen where we got celebrated. At that time I was anonymous, so the judges didn’t know that I was sitting in a wheelchair.

Afterwards I continued to write and enter competitions, and I won several times. That was how I practiced, and it was clear how I got better and I started to feel comfortable with the fact that everyone could read it. It almost couldn’t be better.

In 10th grade I was ill most of the time after a surgery where I got a respirator(a breathing assistant). Therefore I had a lot of time I could use on writing. I wrote my first novel ever and I was extremely happy. I felt the joy of writing and it became a natural part of me. The novel is still on my computer as a memory of how it all began, and there it stays. I’ve changed a lot, and I know that the novel is nothing else than practice. But it’s still a proof of that it’s possible and that you have to start somewhere.

In the beginning of 2013 I discovered a school for authors in my town, Holstebro, and there was no doubt about whether I should apply. Maybe it was a little expensive to pay 750 Danish crowns every single month for three years, but money couldn’t stop me from something I wanted so badly. Unfortunately I applied too late and got the message that I were welcome to try again next year. For a moment I got that feeling that I wasn’t good enough anyway.

After a couple of months I got an e-mail, that if I still wanted to get in, I should send my application as soon as possible. Of course I were interested, so I made my application in a few hours and then hoped that they’d like it.

A few days later they called me in to tell me that they were looking forward to have me as a student. The best day of my life. I had talent!

The summer went and now it was time to start at the school. It was a little bit weird to meet others who also were interested in the art of writing, but still, I was very excited. It turned out that everybody was kind and very helpful. It was nice to meet such people.

We did some writing exercises and got introduced to text-reading, which is where we’re giving each other feedback. We listened to the older students giving feedback, and for a while I felt really stupid, because they were extremely good. I can now tell that it’s something you’ll learn quickly. Isn’t that the idea of going in school - to learn?

Through the year we have done a lot of things, and I’ve become happier every day to be a part of such a great community. They accept me for who I am, and that’s exactly what I’ve been looking for since I graduated from 9th grade.

Movellas was where I discovered that people liked my stories, and it was also the place that made me a better writer, so I at the end could get into a fantastic school. It’s clear where I belong, and I’m definitely continuing down that road.

I have a dream of becoming a great author, that people can relate to and maybe even look up to. At the same time I still want to be me and not become like a celebrity who thinks she is too important to talk to others. I want people to like me for who I am and for what I’m writing, and not just because I’m famous.

When I’m writing, I’m doing it with my heart and all of my stories are like treasures to me. They are a part of me, and I know that if I didn’t write there’d be a big hole inside of me. That’s how I feel when I don’t have the time to write.

I’ve been asked if there’s any story I really want to write, and yes there is. This autobiography is one of them. I have so much to tell the world, and now that I have the gift of writing I have to use it. The world is not as black and white as people think, and that’s exactly what I want people to see. The colors and shades.

I’m also writing to get my emotions under control. They often invade my head so I don’t know if I should laugh or cry, sob or scream. It’s not always easy not be able to slam the door, so instead I’m writing and it works. When I’m writing I get rid of the bad feelings and I can think clear again. I guess it’s a kind of therapy.

Another story I also want to write is a fantasy, which I’m already working on. It has always been my favorite genre, and when the right idea popped up in my head, I just started to write. I promise you that it’ll be something you’ve never seen before. I want to be an original, and if that means I’m done a year behind schedule, that is fine by me. Rather an original than another copy.

No matter what this will always be the place where I belong; in a world of books and their authors, my own books, and no one can ever make me change my mind.

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