05 January 2015

2015 - the year of no apologies about my skin and cream.


2015 will be the year of no apologies about my skin and cream. That's my resolution.
For years - almost my whole life - I’ve apologised about my skin interfering with others. And now I will stop.

The need to apologise has stemmed from others being outwardly inconvenienced by it - vacuuming where I’ve walked, wiping surfaces down after I’ve touched them and not feeling as though they could kiss or hug me because they don’t want to get me on them. I often apologise because I get cold when the air conditioner is on, or if I can’t sit outside because it’s too hot or people are smoking around me. And sometimes I get looks as though I am being a princess, so sometimes I just put up with the discomfort. I apologise for my needs, and for inconveniencing others.

I spend a lot of time wiping up after myself. It’s a little about etiquette and leaving things nice for others, but a lot about apologies. I see how gingerly people touch things that I touch, I’ve heard them complain, and I want to avoid that. Years ago, when I was at primary school, Mum used to give a woman a lift to work. She complained because the seatbelt - that absorbed my cream - left a mark on her top. Mum was upset and probably even angry, and the lady stopped getting a lift. I worry about the impact of parents complaining and resenting the cream that their kids with Ichthyosis have to use.

I worry about them writing about it on social media - commenting about how it soaks through their clothes and gets on furniture. These comments are there for everyone to see, to form an opinion about. And I get how Ichthyosis has turned their lives upside down. But these kids may feel like they have to apologise for a medical treatment that they use to stay alive. Comments and actions from others when I was a child have stuck with me. And these comments weren’t on social media, these comments were spoken, so they could evaporate. But they never evaporated and I remember them decades later. They still hurt.

The need to stop apologising for my skin and cream came to me with a bang at Stella Young’s memorial. That lady has taught us so much in her life and death - a big reminder for us that we get proud by practicing. I met Stella’s family for the first time that day. At the end of the memorial, I hugged Stella's sister. She was wearing a gorgeous pink blazer, and I left a face imprint on the side of it. My cream darkened the fabric. I apologised to her, and she said “don’t worry about it, I’ve probably got my own makeup on it anyway”. And then I felt so stupid. Because Stella - her sister - never apologised for getting in the way. In a letter to her 80 year old self, she wrote:
"I stopped unconsciously apologising for taking up space. I'm sure you can scarcely imagine that now; a world where disabled people, women in particular, are made to feel like we're not really entitled to inhabit public spaces."
If Stella’s sister is reading this, I want to retract that apology. I am not sorry for getting my cream on your blazer. I am not sorry because Stella stopped apologising years ago, and so will I.

And I retract all of the other apologies I’ve made - because my needs do not inconvenience you. It is your attitudes that constrain us. Those who really know me, who really love me - they don’t care whether I leave cream on their clothing or make their floor oily from where I've walked. And those who feel inconvenienced, well, they don’t matter.

And it’s not as though I make a mess purposely. I take good care.

And my love, he keeps reminding me not to apologise. 

When we stayed at my parents’ house - one with tiled floors to help prevent allergies - Adam showed me his socks. The sock soles were thick with my skin.

I said sorry, and he shook his head.

“No sorries” he told me, waving his hands to suggest the conversation was finished.

“Stop apologising for what you can’t control.” And I loved him so hard.

I am not apologising for my skin and cream in 2015 and all the years after that. And you shouldn't apologise for your skin or cream or whatever else makes you different either.

13 comments:

  1. I'm so glad you're going to stop apologising for something that is completely out of your control! I think a lot of people do this, no matter the reason, and it's so good to see you're going to try put a stop to it for yourself. Never apologise for being you, and never apologise for something that you can't control. You're a beautiful person, Carly, and I can't wait to see what you achieve this year ♥ xx

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  2. Good on you babe! We need more of this in the world!

    And holy moly I just loved Stella.

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  3. Good on you Carly! If we ever meet in person I can't wait to give you a huge big hug. Bring on 2015!

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  4. Right on!! This is so brilliant and so SO overdue!
    love it!

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  5. I've just found your blog at the end of the 2014 and it's the best for my new year!! Yes, no apologies remember. Hugs from Bangkok!

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  6. "Never apologize for something you shouldn't be sorry for." I remember when you said that to me at my house. I'd apologized so much and so often for so many years that it had become second nature.

    Often I get very fatigued and achy, so during those times I have to stop and rest. Sometimes I'll sleep a lot. Those comments do stay with you: "You don't look disabled" (if I'm sitting). "You're too young to be so tired." And on and on. Eventually I would just push through because I didn't want to hear the comments, but Ive gotten more comfortable. I wanted to let you know that I've never forgotten what you said. And now I'm saying it to you: Never apologize for something you can't control, something that is part of you. I'm glad that it's your New Years resolution. Have a very happy 2015. ❤️

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  7. Go you! Me? I've not ever minded when I've felt your cream on my face. In fact, I kind of think it might do my aging skin some good, so THANK YOU!

    Reading this though has awoken thoughts of times where I've felt guilty because of "inconveniences" due to my dwarfism - such as the fact that my Mum hated the fact that she'd have to cut of a great deal of material taking hems up and lamented at the waste of money. On one hand I totally get it as we were a one income family with 7 kids and money was very tight, but on the other hand it hurt and that needs to be acknowledged. It was something I couldn't help but it was something I felt guilty about.

    Hmm...you've got me pondering.

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  8. Wow what a powerful piece of writing, we should all take a leaf out of your book and stop saying sorry for 2015 and all of forever! I say sorry for being in the way in my wheelchair, I say sorry for not keeping up on my crutches, I say sorry for feeling so exhausted I can't move - after reading this I am going to make a concerted effort not to say sorry for something I cannot control. By the way you looked fab on No Limits, I have the same as Hayley and over the years she has been a great help and inspiration. I look forward to reading more of your blog. Thank you

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  9. I'm sorry that people made you feel that way for something you can't control. I too have netherton's syndrome, although a milder version than yours, but I can relate to the dead skin thing. You're lucky to have such a supportive love from your man like that. I don't understand why people would consciously make someone who clearly has struggles feel worse than they already do about their situation. Anyway, I hope all is well! You're beautiful :)

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  10. Never apologise for who you are and what you cannot control. I used to apologise all the time about coughing before my transplant. I still say sorry a lot, but I'm going to take your cue and just STOP. Right now. Brilliant piece, Carly. I hope this gets published elsewhere because it needs to be. Bravo!

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  11. Reading this has awoken thoughts of times where I've felt guilty because of "inconveniences" due to my dwarfism - such as the fact that my Mum hated the fact that she'd have to cut of a great deal of material taking hems up and lamented at the waste of money. On one hand I totally get it as we were a one income family with 7 kids and money was very tight, but on the other hand it hurt and that needs to be acknowledged. It was something I couldn't help but it was something I felt guilty about.
    Ruby

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