A fighter, me, why?

I have frequently heard and read in more recent months, that I am a fighter, a survive, courageous, a strong person and several others in the same line, which I personally find a little hard to accept. Firstly as they don’t sound to me, like me and secondly I don’t think I deserve such titles. We, I suppose, all never see what others see in us, as we each have an image in our minds, of exactly who we are, in body and mind. We all like to think that that is what other see, but over the years I have discovered that other never see that person.

I as most when a teenager thought that everywhere I went, everyone saw me and everyone looked and remembered. I was an arrogant little pain in the butt who thought herself beautiful and important. In my twenties I thought no one could see me and no one would even waste time looking at me, I hid behind ordinary and pulled my hair over my eyes, if I shut out the world it wouldn’t notice I was even there. My thirties found a confident, outrageous, colourful person determined to be seen, to turn the beliefs of conformity on it’s head and show myself off with a strength that was a well rehearsed act, inside was a slightly shy and awkward person. My forties I wanted to be seen as someone who was logical, knowledgeable and studious, could innovate and develop, I was more desperate to be seen as a brain rather than a person. Now strangely I find that I can’t tag myself with anything, but I see that as a really positive step.

I have found partly by age but mainly I am sure to my confinement at home, a very balanced and open person. I didn’t get here by a design or some big plan driven by reading inspirational help books or any of these things. The strongest thing I have ever done was to actually accept me as me, I accepted everything thing that I had done in my life, I recognised everything I did wrong or right and I settled in myself in me, as me, without acts or shame. Only then did I look again at where I was and how I was dealing with MS, instinctively I had worked with it and around, I had never really fought it, as fighting in exhausting and pointless, when your body can’t do something then it can’t do it, so live with it. There is one word in this paragraph that I think is the reason I am now doing what I do to help others and myself, which is the real driving force and that is instinct. Everything I do connected to my MS is done instinctively, there is no plan, no formula. I am simply doing what I do daily, from an instinct inside me, that is balanced with and by my acceptance of the things I can’t change.

I have always thought that it would be interesting to get everyone I know to write two things down for me, first they would have to swear on what ever they find most precious, that what they would write would be 100% honest. First a physical and mental description of themselves and second one of me. Dangerous possibly, interesting definitely.