Girl Half Empty

//What an odd thing a diary is: the things you omit are more important than those you put in//
- Simone de Beauvoir
/June winner of the diary competition/


23. //human life is one long terminal illness//

20th June

This evening my drama group crossed paths with a drama group for disabled young adults and we mingled in a studio too small for the vivacity of its contents.

It felt bumpy with the assortment of dolly-mixture people. It was bumpy like an unmade bed or an uncrossed ocean or cake mix that has yet to be pressed flat into the tin. It was bumpy with relationships waiting to be formed. We were all gossamer threads and sinews, stirred in a fragile web.

I don’t want to say that disabled people are inspiring because that statement follows the presumption that disabled people are something separate – that they are beings that can only ever be handled with care. They may inspire reverence but because of their biology rather than their intentions. I do not wish to announce that they inspired me because what could be a more saccharine pastiche than that? I want to say that optimism and courage and openness are inspiring. I want to say that inspiration is human and heart-felt and that some humans are better at breaking their happiness in half for others like it’s a tear-and-share loaf.

I was touched by playful plays and reminded of resilience and self-respect. We were told that we were beautiful. We were told that things were OK. We were told that a bumpy room full of dolly-mixture people are allowed to be happy together; that they can co-habit a place without sensing prejudice sink its teeth in.

It put me in perspective because maybe I can now believe – for an evening – that being grey is temporary and that failing exams will not ruin me and I do not have to be perfect to be enough. 

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