Dup life, hurting world

Who are you?  More specifically, who did you think you were becoming when you were childless and single?

I am a Dup15q mother and the wife of an ordained minister from what locally is a conservative group of churches.   These are some of the first two things that people tend to learn about me when they meet me.  They might find out that I was homeschooled, and that I have to arrange my days and my energy level around Parkinson’s disease medications because of the disability that I was born with.  If I were a character on TV, whether it was a reality show or dramatized, it is exceedingly likely that my role would be tightly scripted-especially if the show were to air on the east/west coast.  The only parts of my life you would see would be–

How government services made my child’s life easier
How offended I was when someone said something about my child’s or my disability in an uneducated way
My interpretation of and trust in Bible verses that prohibit sexual encounters between same-sex individuals or cross-dressing
And any conflicts that arose because of said interpretations

Which kinda stinks.  Life tends to reflect art, and since most of the art on TV revolves around sex and government charity, you miss the things that are the core of me.

The penpal for the druggie in prison who doesn’t have the words to make him take her seriously in a world full of shifty cheaters who betrayed him.
Someone who rejoices in her gay cousin’s faith, and ministry, and role in the church, just like she celebrates the call and witness of the poor single moms we all love to fawn over and protect in the church (until their kid is two months old, because, you know, we all had our kids figured out by then)
The young woman who can’t figure out how to minister to her ex brother-in-law after he set her sister’s house on fire.
The former churchgoer who was so excited to see the minister and his wife take in an African-American family with their children to help them recover from addiction, only to find out seven years later that the minister was raping the kids.
The protestant friend of the new “booty call” on paranormal reality TV who is suddenly reevaluating her idea of the ministry of saints who have gone on, purgatory, and her minister father’s catholic childhood…  not to mention the grandfather who passed the day he disowned her school aged dad for going to a different church with his girlfriend, “Mom.”
The nerd who can’t stop researching natural products– because… autism/biomed, and because… well… nerd.
The church member whose heart was broken when the elimination of her husband’s position meant the elimination of her social life, friendships, home, and church life.

There are so many meaningful conundrums that make up human existence.  I’m tired of continuous conversation of disabilities.  I am more than this.  I don’t fit the Dup15q momma bear mold, if there is one.  I mean, yes, we have to arrange our lives around a super duper, and we can play up that stereotype because at least that is the one thing in my life that people aren’t afraid to talk about.  And it’s the thing I’m struggling with least in my life right now.  I wish there was a way to connect with people about what I’m really struggling with right now.  But I can’t find the conversation partner that fits the mold I’m made from.

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