A letter to my mom.
Who would have ever guessed that what was wrong with me has a name. It is SPD. Remember how hard it was to dress me? You tried to buy me clothes that would not hurt. You would wash them over and over again till they were "soft". You would look the other way when I turned my socks inside out so the seam wouldn't hurt my feet. Finally you learned how to sew so you could try to make clothes I could wear without being in agony. Remember when you made me cut my hair really short because it had gotten to the point I couldn't stand to have it brushed. I cried when it got cut and that made you cry too. Looking back on that it was a pretty good idea.
Remember all the nights dad would make me sit at the table till I ate all my food and you would come into the kitchen after I had sat there for hours and throw it away. I think you knew at some level I wasn't trying to disobey I just couldn't make myself eat it. Remember all the times I cried because other kids were mean to me and you would sit on the floor and play a game with me. Remember how you put up with me playing the piano for hours. It was the only time I could handle loud noise, I guess because I was in control of it. Remember how you defended me with teachers and other parents? I wish you could see me now....I have a great life and two wonderful kids. Even though my childhood was rough you know what I remember most... I was loved.
Thank you mom.