Motivational Speaker Archives | A Million Beautiful Pieces

A Million Beautiful Pieces April 15, 2019

I Am Every Woman

A couple of weeks ago, I shared with you that I was one of the speakers at a workshop “Investment In Self”. The event was hosted by Nadia Marillier of Tranquil and Tenacious Minds.

I prepared this piece titled “I Am Every Woman” in forty-five minutes on the morning of the event. Though I had been mulling over it in my mind for about a month, the inspiration of how to write it, only came to me ten hours before I was scheduled to speak.

I am proud of this piece. It is a condensed version of my life story and the events that shaped me told with honesty. I read somewhere that “When you can tell your story without crying, then you know you have healed”.

Here is a written excerpt: “I am the woman who despite the odds, managed to not just survive my life. I managed to thrive in it. I understand today that the star-dust that my life was sprinkled with when I was born, did not turn into ash after a raging fire. Oh no, no, that would not be right. That star-dust was only the embers of the fire that was being kindled within me.”

As many of you know I work from home while being a caregiver to my adult daughter who is a person with special needs. I am not a professional at using a camera or adjusting sound so I hope you will be forgiving of this when you watch the video. I have a new camera that was gifted to me and I am still learning how to use that so hopefully I will produce better quality videos in the future.

I am however a lover of words and I believe God has gifted me to share the “hard stuff” to touch someone else’s life and in my small way to change the world to be a little kinder and forgiving of each other. So I feel I can’t wait to make perfect videos before I share some of my material with you. As I mentioned I make a living from speaking and writing. By sharing this video you increase my opportunities to work and to take care of my family. For that I will be very appreciative.

If you would like me to hear about specific topics please let me know in the comments. For now, here is “I Am Every Woman”.

A Million Beautiful Pieces February 11, 2019

Our Lives Are One Big Puzzle by Erin Hanson

“So you won’t have to look back when it’s over, And realize you’ve left out the sun”

When we measure life by success and failure, we lose so much of everything in between. We lose the essence of the Million Beautiful Pieces that make the puzzle that is our grand masterpiece. Erin Hanson is The Poetic Underground and she writes a beautiful reminder about being present in every moment of our life.

“Our lives are one big puzzle,

We don’t know how many pieces we’ve got,

There are people that fit in quite nicely

And people who try but do not,

We’re constantly adding more pieces,

All the memories of things we’ve been through,

We add laughter and tears and adventure,

And the lessons we’ve learnt to be true,

Everyone has their own puzzle,

There will be ones where you do not fit,

Don’t you ever dare make your piece smaller,

Just so you can live there for a bit,

If you keep cutting off all your edges,

One day you won’t recognize what you see

And you’ll forget the person you once were,

Before the world told you who you should be,

Make the most of each piece in your puzzle,

It’ll be a grand masterpiece when it’s done,

So you won’t have to look back when it’s over,

And realize you’ve left out the sun.” -e.h

Sometimes we need to be reminded that this life is not about meeting a set of criteria set by other people. It is living in tune with who God created you to be: A Grand Masterpiece.

A Million Beautiful Pieces January 2, 2019

What You Do Not See In Our Photo Taken On New Years Eve

I share this post with the deepest love for my children, their friends with special needs and the siblings of people with special needs.

It’s not often I write about the challenges that we face as a family with a child with special needs. I prefer not to discuss this so publicly. I know that it is not easy for people living outside of this perspective to fully grasp the love and heartache that co-exists for families like mine.

Yet today I will share this photograph of our fireplace and candles while we waited to usher the New Year in that holds within it more than it shows. It looks warm and cosy. That it was.

Not seen in this photograph was our daughter Savannah who is off camera to the left. She was using her noise cancelling earphones as she tightly crouched on a couch. Curled up in as much as she could make her body curl. Her face was buried in her hands. Her siblings, her dad and I were taking it in turns to hold her. Our neighbourhood erupted in fireworks and boomed their music as the rain poured down until four o’clock in the morning. Even with the noise cancelling earphones everything became too much for Savannah. She was in a panic attack and there was no way for us to stop any of the triggers.

As an autistic person, for Savannah (not all autistic people have the same reactions to the same issues) loud unexpected noises set her heart racing and she falls into a state of panic. She goes into full shutdown and struggles to focus. She needs calm and comfort which after twenty-two years of raising Savannah, we know how to be still and not allow our frustrations to take over. If at all that we even feel that anymore.

It would be easy to say that there are laws in place prohibiting the use of fireworks and that loud music is not allowed after a certain time. However if anything we have learned as a family of a child with special needs is how aggressively most of society feel entitled. It’s such an interesting perspective to parent Savannah. She is actually entitled to so much because of her disability such as a simple matter of being in front when watching a show as she is unable to look over someone’s shoulder. Yet, I still find myself asking people not to stand in front of her wheelchair at events like these.

Or for family and friends who become upset when we don’t visit them or don’t invite them over or can’t attend their event. It is baffling how we are easily cast aside for these reasons because people assume that my life is about them. Travelling with a person in a wheelchair means having enough space for three children in the back seat plus a wheelchair in the boot. We drive a sedan. We can likely carry one small bag which is usually Savannah’s bag of extras. Once that is loaded into the boot, there is nothing else we can pack in. So travelling too far is not an option and Savannah cannot sit upright in a car for too long. Hence we limit our travels to what is comfortable for the whole family. I will not even mention the costs of being a family with someone with special needs.

We invite people over who will not mind getting their own coffee or taking a turn to sit with Savannah if she needs company. I can’t have people over who require formal entertaining and also don’t know when to leave. I am sorry about that. It does not mean that I do not like them as people. In most cases I really do enjoy their company, but the manner in which they define entertaining is not one that will work for me. So in that case, we will likely meet somewhere for coffee for an hour or two.

I am trying to make a living. Now I do that by writing and it is not easy. In addition I work from home which has been my daughter Savannah’s domain as she spends the most time in the house than the rest of the family. It is not easy negotiating emotional and mental space with an adult autistic person who also has a physical disability. I spend much of my daily energy helping Savannah to navigate the world from her unique perspective which often I fall short to understand because I just do not experience life the same way that she does. I also take care of her physical needs like bathing and serving her meals to her. When she is in a meltdown state, she will not eat and then I will feed her.

The world is full of people who have a right to enjoy life because they worked for this right. I do not take anything away from that. Yet true living isn’t made up off what rights we exercise. It is made up of what rights we gave up so that someone who cannot survive in this world alone, may at the very least live a life without further challenges caused by those who have the understanding to know better. For this reason our December was epic. We celebrated the season with amazing people who know that being our friend will be different. Very different but still full of merriment. Ours is the home where there is always a party happening and people connecting while Savannah’s needs are respected. For my friends and family who make that happen, we love you.

So what happened to Savannah as New Year’s erupted around us? Well, the most painful truths are not lost on my other children. As we attempted to usher in the New Year in prayer, Talisa held her sister. When we were finished she played Savannah’s favourite Bollywood songs as loud as possible. Both her and Eli tried their best to distract Savannah with amusing antics. Talisa offered to stay up with Savannah so that Michael and I could go to bed. I thought I did not ask for this nor did Michael, nor did Talisa or Eli; yet here we are. A family who understand what is really important in life. Sitting in front of a fireplace with warmth that no fire could have provided. That was nothing to be sad about. It was something to be grateful for.

I thought about the hundreds of families I know, who at that same time were either holding down their loved ones as they agonised against the loud sounds or fought to break through doors in an attempt to find a safe space or created their own louder sounds to drown out the external noise or lay still after seizures racked their minds and bodies. I thought about the depths of love and heartache we live with and yet the next day our social media posts will only reflect one part of this story.

My posts will never show what challenges we face as Savannah’s family. She does not have seizures or big outbursts that may cause harm to other people. No, our daughter harms herself. In addition due to her physical disability, tension causes her muscles to go into spasm which means that for a day or two, she may not be able to leave her bed without significant help from us. We will never disclose anything that leaves our daughter exposed to a society that seem to know much about life, but so little about living it; so that is the most you will get from me.

I will not share the tough stuff in videos or photographs about our behind the scenes because Savannah cannot exercise her right to privacy and I am the custodian of that. Sharing emotive images will certainly launch my social media profile into a whole new level by telling the story of how disability breaks me wide open and leaves me reeling. That may very well be my right to speak my truth and share my pain. Yet, as I write this and watch my daughter sleep, I know that my rights are forfeit if it causes her harm. Even if she doesn’t know that harm is being done to her. She is unable to protect herself on the internet or tell her side of the story. While she may never know; as human beings our family will enforce every right and carry through every responsibility to protect her rights.

I know this is hard to read, but this is for all those families who are recovering from the New Year celebrations that they were not a part off in the traditional sense. For them and myself I ask this:

Do not speak to us about rights and what people are entitled too.
Do not boast about the one or two times a sacrifice was made to give someone who is vulnerable a better experience.

Simply do this instead:

Live with a consciousness of journeying through this world together. Even if you have to slow your pace to accommodate someone else.
Just as all parents do not want their children to be harmed; please remember that for some of us, our children are children forever. Parents of typically developing children are unlikely to be holding an adult while they are in a full-blown panic attack. So be kind when we leave an event or ask for the noise to be lowered.
Give someone the benefit of the doubt.
Travel light without all the hangups of who did not show up for you.
People need people. Not things.
Forgive and then forgive again. I get to practice this one often.

To all our co-families of children with special needs:
You Rock.

Here is my disclaimer: I asked Talisa to read this post before I published it and I asked her if it was too jarring. She said “Mum, anything we write or say about this will be jarring and people may find it harsh because they just do not get it. But it needs to be out there. In our family we have the space to talk about this but there are so many families who can’t. Publish it.”.

There are many support organisations for people with special needs. I have listed three here. You are welcome to add the links to more organisations in the comments below.

Autism; South Africa

South African Disability Alliance

Down Syndrome South Africa

A Million Beautiful Pieces December 31, 2018

A New Year Has Arrived by Erin Hanson

On this last day of 2018 I am filled with gratitude as I recount the amazing year I’ve had. Turning forty years old has been my year of re-awakening, re-aligning and re-learning. Thank you to the people who blessed my life this year, especially to everyone who follows A Million Beautiful Pieces.

Your likes, shares and recommendations helps to put Faith, Hope and Love into the world. Without your support, I would not be able to use my gifts and my story. You are the Wind Beneath My Wings. Together we will soar through 2019 and make it a year that will count.

I’ve been saving this poem by Erin Hanson just for today. You will want to save this to remind you not to pick up again what you must leave behind in 2018.

Take down all your trouble
And wrap up your regret
Tie them to the rays of light
The sun sheds as it sets.
Whisper all that was
To fleeting seconds as they pass,
But hold onto your hope
For something new is here at last.
Beg your own forgiveness
And then grant it in one breathe,
Lay the year down softly
As it waits to face its death.
Then sit with eye turned skyward
As the night-time comes alive,
All that’s been is over
And a new year has arrived.

-e.h

Happy New Year, my friends. Let’s make 2019 count.

My Inspiration November 27, 2018

My Inspiration: There is ALWAYS Time to Dance

Today Savannah is reminiscing about the wedding last year when I was the MC and I danced a special dance.

Now that I work from home, it is a mixed blessing.

My children and my husband love having me around and I find we are using our time more productively. I wake up everyday excited to meet the day. I can’t remember ever feeling like this in my whole life.

For those families who have a child with a disability, you will know why this dynamic is precious. My daughter Savannah is witty and funny and kind and thoughtful. She is also different in her way of thinking and feeling.
She is my ever-long learning course. Teaching me all that I don’t know and often after working hard at understanding her point of view, I come back to the realisation that I just can’t reach all the depths that her mind wanders too. As an autistic person, she sees life in a way that I work very hard to understand; only to find that I fail.

So often I fail. My struggle to keep up with the “normal” world collides with trying to grasp her view; and I become frustrated, and angry at myself. At her. At this life and it’s persistent demands. Yet, I have to live in both worlds. I have to try so hard to keep up with life so that I can be part of it’s rat race and try to earn a living to provide for all our children.

Governing all that we do, like so many families like us, is that we must try very hard to earn more than a living.
We must provide for Savannah long after we are gone. And that is what keeps me awake till the early hours or gets me out of bed long before the sun rises. Working from home while also being a caregiver, a companion and all that encompasses being Savannah’s mother, is my “more than a conqueror” daily challenge.

If I could stay at my desk all day, I would not eat or drink because truly writing feeds me like nothing else does. But my reverie is broken every time when Savannah calls me. Sometimes what she needs is reasonable and makes sense that she called me. Other times, she calls me to tell me something so far off base from the moment that we are in, that I throw my hands up in the air and proclaim out loud that I don’t need to know the tit bit of information that she is supplying. She doesn’t grasp that I can’t know what goes on on her head and so we tussle with memories until I either get what she is on about or I give up and walk away.

For example, a month ago she suddenly jolted to March 2014 and for several days, she recounted everything she remembered about that time. Everything. Details like what earrings I wore and who we saw. People who I have long forgotten. She remembered their earrings, their watches and who said what, when and where. As I fight back the urge to weep for what feels like the hundredth time that she calls me to say something that I cannot see the relevance in; I ask myself if anyone else lives in so many spaces all at once? And if so do they survive themselves?

Right now, I am in the middle of writing about Domestic Abuse for the UNWomen’s Campaign and it takes me back to times in my life that I have closed the door on. Yet, now at forty, the shock of what I was allowed to be privy too as a child, washes me afresh. I have several other writing projects underway and a new client who I have to do some research for. So my mind is a little more than preoccupied on a daily basis.

Then Savannah calls. Again. Not being sure if she needs physical assistance or if it is just another newsflash from the past; I walk to where she is because that’s my life.

Looking back over the years, I’m most in awe that while I was trying to glue my heart back together as a teenager who learnt too much about the hypocrisy of the adults around her, I somehow kept my sanity as I became Savannah’s mother. Over these twenty-two years I’ve listened to the same story that my heart didn’t have the words to utter when Savannah was little. Parents grappling with the heartbreak of the unknown as their child begins life in a world designed to set itself against them. The most competent of people, crumble as they understand the force that will be required to help their children live their best lives.

Each time, I’m stunned anew that a girl like me became Savannah’s mum. What was God thinking to trust me with her? It has never been easy. There are days when I wish I did not know of the things I have to know. But I survived and I have learnt how to thrive right where I am. Having Savannah at eighteen was probably the worst thing to happen in a life already falling to pieces. Yet years later I understood that being Savannah’s mother saved my life. Who knows what I would have become, had I not have to fight for her in all the ways imaginable and unimaginable? Would I have known how to fight for myself or for that matter would I have known that I could change the course of my life?

Even now as I try to juggle housekeeping, children, writing, keeping up with everything, Savannah calls. She is now remembering December 2017. She wants to play the song I performed at my cousins wedding. I’m not in the mood for this and I grumble something to that effect.

As I walk away from her with the clock ticking and the checklist running in my head of all that I have to get done today, I hear her say: “Pretty mum the wedding. My mum good dancer. Well done.”

Savannah and I decked out at a wedding last year.

I can’t help looking back at her as she gives me a big grin. Maybe I am wrong again. I don’t think I am looking after her at all. I think she is looking after me. Drawing me away from the square boxes everyone is fighting to fit themselves into.

If you have heard me speak you will know that one of my key points is that there aren’t answers to everything that life throws our way. For those moments, there is always dance.

And so as Savannah played the song “Tere Bina” from the Bollywood movie Guru for the umpteenth time this morning, I took my own advice; and I danced. She clapped and squealed and made her happy sounds.

No one ever tells us that the lines of our broken hearts, make for the most polished dance floors. Or that dance is meaningless unless someone gives you a beat to dance to.

Disability Advocacy November 20, 2018

Parenting: Being Courageous even in Uncertainty

This past weekend we attended our friends sons’ birthday party where they had an amazing Wild Animals Educational show. My daughter, Savannah and the birthday boy, Kurt have been friends since they were little children. We have attended a few parties at his home and Maggie, Kurt’s mum throws the best birthday parties for him. When I told Savannah that we would be attending the party, she immediately inquired if there would be animals. She remembered that Maggie usually has an animal show for Kurt’s parties. This made Savannah a bit anxious because unlike Kurt, she does not like animals very much. The only animals she loves are our two Labradors.

Yes, that is a Tarantula on my hand. And yes, it is alive!

As a person with special needs, Savannah requires a fair amount of support in some situations and this time was no different. We had to make sure that she was emotionally and mentally prepared before the party to cope with her anxiety and concerns. One way of doing this was to reassure her that there would be no pressure on her to engage with the animals. We discussed with her that her daddy would sit with her as far away as possible from where the animals would be. She was happy with this arrangement and began looking forward to the party.

On the day of the party, Savannah did not back out from joining us as she usually does and was excited and happy to attend. Kurt, Maggie, her family and friends are some of the nicest people we know and Michael and I were looking forward to being in their company. As expected the party was relaxed and easy for Savannah. She was also very happy to see Kurt. Before the animals arrived, she repeatedly confirmed with Michael that as agreed, he would sit with her away from the animals.

Julian from the WILD ONES Educational Show arrived in his bakkie (South African word for a small pick-up vehicle) full of cages and containers. We watched Julian set up, and Michael and I with some trepidation watched Savannah, watching Julian set up. A few years ago at Kurt’s party, Savannah clung to me for the duration of the party and was miserable and cross because she was so mortified by the animals.

As an autistic person, Savannah’s perception of some situations is different. What might feel fun and exciting to us can be uncomfortable and frightening for Savannah. In order for the whole family to enjoy life together, Michael and I had to make peace with the fact that Savannah will always require some level of support in many situations. Fear is a debilitating emotion and we know that Savannah’s fears are real enough for her, and therefore warrants our respect and patience.

That was the mindset that we had at the party but to our surprise and delight, Savannah decided to join everyone in the area of the garden where the animal show was going to take place. Julian kicked off the show by introducing us to a tarantula. Yikes! I know. I never thought I would hold a spider nor one as scary as a tarantula. But Savannah was watching Michael and I with keen caution, and so I held out my hand and took the spider. Then I held a bearded dragon and a barn owl and the list goes on.

Eli let a Corn Snake coil around him as Savannah watched in amazement.

Then he coaxed her into touching a bunny which we named Peter Rabbit for her benefit. That was one of her favourite childhood books.

Michael who is by no means an animal lover delighted her by holding a tarantula and whistled to a Cockatiel, coaxing it away from my shoulder to his shoulder.

I struggled to fight back the tears when we met the barn owl. Some years back she was caught in a trap and had lost one leg. So she cannot fly and is fully dependent on Julian for her food. As a mother to a daughter who uses a wheelchair and a sister to a brother who is an amputee; that little owl represented the vulnerability and the tenacity that I saw in my daughter, in my brother and in Kurt. More than that, Julian’s care and commitment to this sweet bird spoke volumes about something all of us at the party understand but rarely see outside of our lives as families of people with disabilities.

That is the act of simply caring for one another. Not based on what we will gain or what we will lose, but only for the reason that we are human and we have compassion.

Often people look at Savannah or Kurt and they feel pity. Understandably so because they see themselves as having more abilities than our children do. Often we as families are judged from their limited viewpoint about what we are doing and what we are not doing for all our children. Here’s the thing though: We are here caring until forever. We are constantly finding delight in life no matter what fears and unknowns and awkwardness and frustrations we face. So the pity we get is actually misguided. It belongs to the rest of the world. While our lives take us to difficult places in our hearts:

we know what “unconditional” means.
we know what depths of love and care truly exists in the human spirit, and
we know just how shallow so many lives are because they have not yet learned to give without counting the loss or the gain.

We knew from the beginning that parenting would be a daily exercise of giving of ourselves. It would be letting go of fears and showing up for our children no matter how we were feeling.

What we learnt was that parenting a child who has special needs is sometimes about giving all of yourself. It is about conquering those fears every moment of every day and learning to live with passion and joy knowing full well that your worst fears for your child can become your reality.

We do not know when Savannah will be keen to attend another event so we soaked up the afternoon with Kurt, his family and those glorious animals. We were carefree and delighted as we held tarantulas and snakes. Now that is a great paradox for the life we live, isn’t it?

Being courageous even when our hearts are uncertain.

A very special “Thank You” to Kurt, Maggie, Kevin (Kurt’s dad), Gabriella (Kurt’s sister) and their extended family for being one of the bravest, nicest people we know.

A Million Beautiful Pieces August 31, 2018

The fire inside me is burning brighter

“I survived because the fire inside of me burnt brighter than the fire around me” – Felix H.

Too often we allow the circumstances of life to define our character. Yet character isn’t about the circumstances we have lived through; it is about how much we understand our value to God and how that influences us in the choices we make in those circumstances. That becomes the grit and the grace that fills us with determination not just to survive but also to thrive.

This year I challenged myself to new experiences and to give myself one year to live just for me. I say one year because as a parent to an adult with special needs, by default my life choices are always filtered by being her mother. To that end, I’m so excited to announce that I was able to change my career to pursue my dream.

I’m now a full time blogger, freelance writer and public speaker.

It was a big decision to make as I loved my previous career as an Assistive Technology Advisor. When I thought it through though, the aspect of that job which excited me the most was when I was teaching and training. So to have the opportunity to positively influence people through the medium of writing and speaking is hugely exciting.

This means I’m learning new skills that will help me to become better at my chosen craft. It means that after a year of experiences with this blog, and also entering the Mrs South Africa competition and then writing for sponsors; I’ve grown as a writer and public speaker.

Writing to influence people to live their best lives, to tell stories of human triumph and struggle that promotes self reflection and to influence society towards being kinder and more understanding is my great passion. Then as a speaker; I’ve always been a motivational speaker and I’ve had the opportunity to host a few events as an MC. Now I get to do that more often as a career. You can contact me via my website for my media kit or email me at desirae@amillionbeautifulpieces.co.za.

Having essentially felt like an outcast in society when I became a teenage parent then feeling the second wave of that exclusion when my daughter was diagnosed with a disability; left me feeling like an outsider in my own life. I know that when people have set backs or are on the road to picking up the pieces of their lives, it’s a lonely place to be if you don’t have people to champion you. I was blessed that along my journey I met people who reignited the fire inside me when it was in danger of burning out.

And that is what A Million Beautiful Pieces will be more about now. A place to find your strength and to know that you are not alone. Your life has value and you are valuable.

I’ve learnt this only in the last few years and what I know for sure is that: it’s a process. It’s taken all of my adult life to have the courage to pursue the career that I want.

In this process of becoming me, I’ve learnt this:

Be patient with yourself. It takes time to unlearn the unnecessary.
Self love is often confused with selfishness. Remember when you know how to love yourself, then only can you love someone else.
Oh man, this is what gets me out of bed in the mornings: This life… It’s yours. No one else can lay claim to how it is lived but you.

As I get up to face this last day of August I hope that the fire inside you burns brightly enough for you to live and love well in every moment of today.

That’s what makes life beautiful. ♥

Disability Advocacy July 13, 2018

When the sun doesn’t shine

I have not written for my own blog for a while because so much was happening personally. Mostly I did not write because I was struggling to figure out how to deal with some painful insights I have learnt over the last six months. Do people care? What does it mean when people say “We know it’s hard’ and then have expectations of you that are adding to your “hard”? Or when they take it upon themselves to help you in ways that cause more damage than good.

I haven’t figured all of that out yet but I know it’s worth writing about because so many of us are making a life where the sun rarely shines. But we still need the warmth of the sun and to be showered with understanding and compassion so that we can continue to thrive just where we are.

Having the title of SuperMum is no blessing. It means you can’t have a bad day or you can’t sob uncontrollably on your kitchen floor or you can’t stay in bed all day wishing the wrongs will right itself. Being SuperMum means being lonely and that is not a healthy role model for our children.

To me being Supermum means being able to say you need “alone time” or “girl time” or being able to say…”It’s too much. I can’t do this anymore”. Ooohhhh, I said the unthinkable! Yes, Supermum means being human and allowing our children and our families to know that we all have limitations and boundaries.

Every curve ball that life throws at us need not be an opportunity to prove that we can do it all and be it all. It is an opportunity to say “Because I care about myself and the many roles I am, I am going to say No”. While I may still have to deal with certain curve balls like choosing between what is right for my daughter and what makes me happy; I don’t have to glam it up and make myself some kind of false hero for being mum.

There are far too many people who become heroes and saviours just because they are being kind and caring to their children or their spouses or their parents or people who are vulnerable.

I’m sorry. We don’t get hero status for supporting those who wear the body of vulnerability. They are the heroes.

When we are made to be larger than we are as caregivers, as foster families, as adoptive parents, as parents to children with disabilities, as spouses to a person with Alzheimers, and I’m guessing you get the idea here; we need to be vulnerable too. Living in exceptional circumstances means being given the opportunities to see both the magic and the tragedy of people living with bodies or minds that are different to us. It means for us as the witnesses to these extra-ordinary lives, we have to choose over and over and over again to live in the magic despite the darkness that is ever-present.

Simply put, in our (that is Michael and I) case and for so many other families like ours; being needed all the time, having someone else’s entire happiness, health and quality of life completely on our hands forever while knowing that often we have to make life altering decisions for them; and that the full impact and consequences of those decisions they will have to live through; is downright heart wrenching.

And no, it is not a lack of faith because in my case; it has been faith that has gotten me out of bed to do this over and over gain. It is not a lack of understanding; because in my case I have been both blessed and cursed to see wider, deeper and further than the issues at hand. Carrying a family through all that we have faced and continue to face while ensuring that all our children have space to grow and blossom in spite of living on the edge of the world; is no mean feat.

So why am I penning this deep and soulful post after so long? Since I’ve opened up about taking this year to “do me”; I have received unwarranted advice, been ripped apart by well-meaning people, my children have been given unsolicited advice about their future choices and the list goes on. I am proud that my children have a very close bond with both Michael and I.

However this does not protect them from people who pre-judge them because one of them has special needs. In fact Talisa and Eli even have a dark comedy routine about it. They mockingly joke about how people decide that they are neglected, how Savannah is our favourite, how to respond to people who ask really offensive and yes stupid questions like “how do you get on with your sister” or offer advice like “I think you don’t want that. You are just trying to make your mother happy”.

In the last few months I have cradled my children in my arms while they have wept when other people have confused and hurt them crossing the boundary into the territory that is only for Michael and I. So when my children are given unsolicited advice by people who know nothing about raising teenagers in a family with someone with special needs; they have no idea of the damage and havoc they wreak.

Or the effort it takes for me to like the world again every morning.

So here is the take away from this post:

*Don’t judge ever. It doesn’t matter what your credentials are or what your experiences are. Don’t judge.

*Do not ask children, yes even teenagers, questions about their parents, their siblings or themselves unless you have explicit permission from their parents to do so. If you are not the person who will stand by them forever, then you don’t get to do this. That includes relatives and family friends.

*Honour each other as parents. Being hip and cool to someone else’s child at the detriment of hurting that relationship is NOT hip and cool. Supporting each other as parents is vital to the overall health of our society.

*Just as babies require much tender, love and care; so too do teenagers. Their hearts and minds are very susceptible to hurt and confusion. Handle their confessions with care and their ideas with respect. It’s unhelpful to offer advice that makes them question their parent’s intentions. Just as the weight of responsibility of caring for babies falls on parents; so too does the weight of helping teenagers mature into adults.

*When you meet families who are doing the seemingly impossible, don’t point out to us what you believe are the potential hardships of our lives. Just because raising a family in unusual circumstances might be unimaginable to you; we are doing it all day everyday. This is our normal: thriving where the sun doesn’t always shine, amongst the boulders and the weeds…choosing to be magic every single day.

Contact me for a motivational talk about “Living My Best Life In My Never Ending Challenge”.

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My Services July 10, 2017

This Is What I Do

Most recently I changed careers to work as a trainer, a public speaker and a freelance writer. It is my great love to teach. To use the mediums of speaking and writing to do that is a wonderful opportunity.

In my professional career my great passion was teaching and training. As a facilitator for training sessions, I know that it is vital to ensure that everyone understands the content, they feel confident to engage in the session and that they find value in the time that is spent in training. It gives me great satisfaction when trainees feel confident at the end of a session.

As a speaker, I am passionate about helping people to live their best lives. Using the experiences that shaped my life from being a teenage single mother in post apartheid South Africa to building a family and a career and now to facing the future with an adult child who will require full care, has taught me so much about what influences our decision making especially when one has to choose from a set of bad options. As a motivational speaker my goal is to share stories that remind people about the preciousness of each moment and that life is still beautiful.

As a writer, last year I entered the blogging space to contribute to social change in my own small way. I have learnt a little something about human behaviour because of the unusual circumstances that my life path has followed. Writing and sharing my insights is a way to give a little Faith, Hope and Love to the world. For my journey as a writer, I have also embarked on content writing for businesses which is an interesting avenue and one that creates diversity in my ability as a writer.

If you would like to engage with me in any of these capacities please complete the form below: