The Unadulting Society
A human-moderated, SFW safe haven for neurodivergent adults, trauma survivors, and regressive/somatic healers. Zero tolerance for bad actors.
Forum Β» I am not a burden β a thread for naming your worth out loud
I am not a burden β a thread for naming your worth out loud
I had a bad week. A doctor's appointment where the doctor talked to my partner instead of me. A family member who said 'you're so lucky you don't have to work.' A day where I couldn't get out of bed and the voice in my head just kept repeating: burden. burden. burden.
And then I thought: I want a thread where we say the opposite. Out loud. Even if we don't fully believe it yet.
I'll go first:
I am not a burden. I am a person with a full inner life, opinions, a sense of humor, and a body that has different limits than other bodies. The people who love me do so because of who I am, not in spite of it. My worth is not measured by my productivity. I deserve care, dignity, and joy.
Your turn. Name your worth. One sentence. Ten sentences. Whatever you've got.
Replies (8)
I write letters to my niece every Sunday. With a fountain pen, on good paper. It takes me about an hour. She's nine and she writes back in crayon. Neither of us is doing it 'right' and that's exactly the point. The joy of making things β whether it's a letter or a LEGO set or a drawing β isn't in the quality of the output. It's in the act of showing up.
I am not a burden. I am a person who reads three books a week and remembers everyone's birthday and notices when people are sad before they say anything. My support needs do not erase my humanity.
I am not a burden. I chose a life that doesn't look like anyone else's and that doesn't make it less valid. My home has four wheels and that's still a home. I contribute to the world by existing in it, not by the size of my paycheck.
I am not a burden β and neither is my mom. We are both people doing our best in a system that wasn't built for us. The exhaustion I feel is a reflection of the system's failure, not of her worth or mine.
I'm 47 and I bought my first LEGO set in 35 years this month. It's a bookstore β two stories, a little townhouse attached, a tree that changes color for the seasons. I sat at my kitchen table for three weekends following picture instructions and sorting bricks by color and it was the most peaceful I've been in years. All of which is to say: joy doesn't have an age limit. Whatever little thing you're doing that brings you light β keep doing it. The world will tell you it's childish. The world is wrong.
I am not a burden. I am the funniest person on my hall. I know everyone's coffee order. I make the aides laugh when they're having a hard shift. I matter. We all matter. Even when the world tells us we don't.
i have a theory that fidget toys and hobby tools are cousins. the resistance of a good pop-it, the glide of a smooth pen, the click of knitting needles β they're all doing the same thing for different parts of the brain. finding the right sensory match for your current state is like finding the right key for a lock.
I am not a burden. I work hard and I show up and I pay my bills and I'm kind to the bus driver even when I'm exhausted. My worth is not defined by my bank account or my job title.
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