My Little Lifeline

I did not always realize you - your talent, the way you did things, your personality, and your way of life - until almost a few years ago. I did not necessarily look down on you, but I did not look up to you either. Sad to say, you were almost there in my life as just a blob of confusion that I was not sure what to do with. How or when I came to realize you I am not sure; but the fact that I did is something I am not at all humbled by. 

You taught me to have a different outlook on life as well as many other little securities to go along with it. We know each other well and have a bond that is hard for others to understand unless they knew us in depth; but even then, it is highly impossible for anyone else to comprehend us. You are my sister, Megan, and you have played a role in the making of the person that I have come to be today - you gave me a life line in your own little way and have taught me many different mottos to live by. 

I often hear friends saying, "remember that one time when...?" For you and I, though, there is not a single one time; we have shared many 'one times', similar to the one time I first realized you gave me a life line. 

You often have a positive attitude towards whatever you are doing, whether it involves school, friends or family. Therefore, you taught me how to have a positive outlook on life which also leads to never giving up. I notice when you are struggling with a homework assignment, for example, and you at first want to give up on it and quit what you are doing, you do not, though. You make the assignment, or anything else for that matter, go on your completed check list; and doing so is never something to be questioned for you. You finish what you start, and pull up a smile on your face no matter what. 

Your smiles then always lead to laughter, and it is somewhat infectious - like a virus that is highly impossible to rid from oneself. You may not realize it, but if I were to count, I would be able to tally up practically fifty different laughs. There is that one laugh of yours when something is really funny to you; that one when something is kind of funny, but not really; that one when you cannot stop laughing even if you tried to; that one when you are in your own little world; that one when you pretend something is funny; that one...that one...that one. That one laugh has taught me to look at life in a brighter way and to correspondingly be a positive person. 

Along with your laughs, I also always receive a hug. Hugging is like your second nature: you seem to give out hugs like there is no tomorrow and like your life depends on it. I can continuously rely on you to boost my mood and cheer me up even the slightest notch on my happiness scale. For instance, if I am having a bad day, when you come home from school and can automatically notice, you rush over to give me a slight squeeze - you do not even understand the almighty powers of your embrace upon me. To you, the hug is a simple act of kindness, but to me it acts as a security blanket and I always feel content afterwards. Coming from me, to say all this about your artless hugs is a huge deal because whoever knows me knows that I am the enemy of all huggers alike; I dislike hugs and rarely ever hand them out. For you, however, I would give you a hug any time, any day, whenever you like. 

You are constantly hugging people and that just shows that you have a warming personality and a true-to-yourself kind of heart. People that do not know you could even catch on to that. You do not always speak your mind, but even if you did, nothing bad would come out of your mouth because judging is not on your daily agenda. You do not judge, which also leads to you not caring or worrying about what other people think about you. I used to struggle with that. Twenty-four/seven I would be thinking about what other people thought of me and constantly worrying whether or not I fit in with everyone else surrounding me. I also would judge almost everyone that walked across my path. I now realize, thanks to you, that judging is not an act to be proud of. 

However, someone I am proud of is you. You are one of a kind; you have taught me many lessons; you push me to strive; you listen to me; you know me probably better than most; you do not take life by the wheel, but instead just let it take you where it pleases; you smile; you laugh fifty different ways; you hug like no other person I have hugged before; you are my role model and I am yours; you are my complement and I am yours; you do this; you do that; you do everything; you are you - not any word could even describe you because no word would be enough to complete the thought in my mind of who you are to me. 

I love our little shared handshake that we have developed and the nicknames for each other. There are so many tiny details about you that I love, and even though I only have one sister, you are by far my favorite. The possibility for me to even ask for a different sister has never crossed my mind - I could not and would not trade you in for someone better, because there is no one that is better. I love you, Megan. 

Correction: It Is Megan Gomez

Hey look, actual friends this time

So here I am on a Thursday night this time, sitting in a coffee shop with friends, allowing my thoughts to flow from my brain to my hands, trying to form sentences of all the random things that constantly flow through my head. My original goal was to post a new blog every week on Sundays, however I was a little late this week due to the fact that I am a college kid and what can you expect? Not that I had an overflowing amount of homework or anything to do on Sunday, which is actually very unusual for me, but because my Netflix addiction took precedence over my writing for the day.

But you know what? Its actually okay that I waited, and I’m glad I did because of something that I had learned in class on Monday. In my business culture class on Monday, two of the topics we discussed were universalism, and how different cultures deal with disabilities. I found this so suiting to the topic for my post this week.

At a Selena Gomez concert
for Megan's 16th birthday
present from me   

Not trying to give a little business culture lesson here for ya, but so that you get the jist of it, individualistic cultures view people with disabilities as equals. A person that has a disability likes being dependent, doesn't necessarily feel the need to ask for help constantly, and plans for a future no different than that of a person without a disability. And universalism, as I can best explain it, basically refers to The Golden Rule. Which ties in ohhhhh so perfectly with my topic this week about Miguel being no different that you and I.

Side note, I should add that Miguel calls herself Megan Gomez. So if you're reading this, Megan, you can't be mad at me now. You’re welcome, Miss Gomez. 

AND SORRY I KNOW I’M BAD WITH HAVING REALLY LONG INTROS, FORGIVE ME.

So, yeah, Megan is just like you and I. How so? Better question: How not so? I think a lot of people believe that living with someone with a disability is just a completely different world than living with a “normal” person. Because there is such a thing as a “normal” person, right? I mean all of us “normal” people are different from each other, just the same as Megan is different than us. But note that she’s not different because she has Down Syndrome, she is different because she is who she is. She is Megan Gomez; she is the movie-watching-master; she is my little shit; she is my BFF; she is the sister to Selena Gomez, obviously; she is…; she is…; she is…

What I am trying to get at with this is that Megan isn't different because of her disability- which, by the way, I don’t even like calling it that. Having Down Syndrome doesn't define who she is, it is barely even a characteristic to describe her. I just view it as something she was born with. No different than me not defining myself based on the birth mark right above my butt that I was born with. Sorry, guys, no picture for this one.

And I know that people would never ask me straight up what it is like living with her, or if it is difficult or if I treat her differently, or etc. etc. And it is perfectly normal for people to have those thoughts. I guess I probably would too if I were in different shoes. So don’t be afraid to ask me about my sister. I’ll tell you straight up how I feel and I won’t take offense to it. And my answer to you would be that living with Megan is no different than living with anyone else, like my brother, for example.  Maybe this isn't true for all families that have a child with a disability, though, and maybe it is just the individualist culture that I grew up in or the way that I was brought up that makes me act this way towards her. Either way, I find myself responding to people’s questions with, well how do you think living with her is? Should I be giving her special care just because she isn't “normal”?

Because let’s be real, my brother can be a little shit, no different than Megan. And Dean and I fight like brothers and sisters do sometimes, no different than Megan and I fight like sisters do. Dean and I have our differences, no different than Megan and I’s differences. Sure, sometimes processes may be a little slower with her or it make take longer for both of us to comprehend what the other is saying, but so? That doesn't mean anything. And of course, she's the typical little sibling that has to copy everything her older sibling does. I haven't decided yet if this is a good thing or not, though. I often catch her watching me while I am getting ready, and then she'll do the exact same things that I do. I'll even randomly find some of my missing things hidden in the drawers of her room- my lip glosses, make up, clothes. And don’t even get me started on how she isn't different than any other teenager.

NOT a rare sighting in
the Stier household

Okay, you got me started. She talks, dresses, acts, and even walks like any ol’ teenager does. She’s got attitude, definite attitude majority of the time. Like, I finally know how my parents felt when I was a bratty little teenager back in the day. Ha..ha.. sorry mom and dad.. But she even needs to make sure she looks the part every day, and she can never forget to wear one of her infamous headbands. She acts like a teenager with all of the smart-ass one-liners she throws out and with the sassiness and with the independence and with the leave-me-alone-you’re-embarrassing- me-and-I’m-too-cool-for-you motto. And yes, I can say that she does even walk like a teenager, gotta have that attitude and butt wiggle with the walk. And the occasional striking of random poses just for the heck of it- hip to the side, one hand on the hip, the other hand raised, fierce look on her face.

Annnnd the selfies! Okay, half the time I kind of force her to take pictures with me because I like pictures, but she usually cooperates. And when she doesn't, well, you’ll know because she won’t be smiling in the picture.

Long story, short.

-          Don’t be afraid to ask me about Megan

-          She honestly isn't any different than you and I

-          Don’t let one characteristic define someone

-          And her name is actually Megan Gomez, not Stier, because she isn't a Stier, she is actually Selena Gomez’s sister

In the end, I believe everyone should embrace an individualistic culture (feel free to ask me anything about it, because I’m basically a pro on that subject now) and embrace universalism. The Golden Rule.

An insight into next week’s post:

Well, there isn't an insight yet. My brain is fried from countless hours of Calc homework so I need some ideas from others on what I should write about next.