Who We Are?

My husband James has begun a health quest that he has decided to post on Tik Tok. 

He was recently diagnosed with full-blown diabetes.  I say “full-blown” because for years he has been on the cusp, labeled pre-diabetic.

Because of this, James is starting to realize he needs to take better care of his health.  He decided he needs the accountability that he feels posting his journey on Tik Tok will give him.  Here’s the catch, he doesn’t want to read the comments, or answer back.  I told him, “I don’t think you understand what social media fundamentally is.”

My daughter, like most teenagers, is a Tik Tok pro.  She is witty and dry and great with a funny rejoinder.  I suggested he let her “manage” his account.  He just laughed. 

Now we come to the point of all this backstory.  James, my son Cole, and I took the dogs for a walk this weekend.  James walked ahead of us and Cole and I were left to our own conversation.  I told my son about my suggestion, adding that Hannah is great with those fast, witty comebacks. 

Cole said, “I always wished I was one of those people. That I could say the right thing at the right moment.”  This statement surprised me.  Was my 14-year-old boy actually telling me about his feelings?

I played it cool though. “I always think of something awesome, like, an hour later.”

His face lit with a smile. “Me, too!”

I added, “I think that’s true of like 80% of the population.  I’ve seen memes about it.”

He laughed and we continued to walk and talk. 

That conversation has stayed with me.  It broke my heart a little, because Cole is severely dyslexic. While most people know about the jumbling of letters that comes with the diagnosis, they don’t always understand that it is a processing disorder.  They don’t know that dyslexics can take longer to gather their thoughts and then find the words to express them.   

Could Cole have been that person he wished he could be, if he wasn’t dyslexic?  He’s funny, he’s smart, maybe he could have.  I worry over it, feeling that guilt and anxiety only a mother can feel.  The one that tells you, you made that child. Was it something you said, or did, or didn’t do, that led to him not having this thing he wishes he had?

Then I remind myself that while we aren’t always who we want to be, we are who we’re meant to be.  Cole is smart and funny, good looking and athletic with a few loyal friends. But, above everything else, he is kind and understanding.  Perhaps that is what he was meant to be, and without the dyslexia, would he still be those things?