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intheheartTitle: Why Can't
Rating: PG.
Summary: Four times someone asked Summer why.
Notes: none
"Why can't you be more like the other girls?"
Teacher said it sadly, but Summer knew it for the insult that it was. She was five, not stupid. She couldn't be more like the other girls because she wasn't at all like the other girls, and there was nothing wrong with that. That's what Mama and Papa and Ivy and Aaron said, and Mama and Papa and Ivy and Aaron didn't lie to her.
Much.
Not about this, anyway.
So when Teacher asked that, she replied, "Because I can't," in her most matter-of-fact tone, and got time-out for talking back.
--
"Why can't you be more like normal people?"
Madison said it this time, and there was cruelty in her voice. Summer had been on the receiving end of cruelty too often not to recognize it. Madison wanted her to hurt.
She did hurt, although not how Madison wanted her to. She hurt because Lars didn't know that Madison said it, and Summer didn't want to tell him, because that would be cruel too. It didn't change Lars's relationship-- she wasn't part of that-- and he'd be hurt if he knew.
She wouldn't tell him. No matter how she wanted to.
--
"Why can't you be more like everyone else?"
This was a lover in graduate school, and it hurt Summer more than every other time combined, because he said it out of what he thought was love.
He didn't want to hurt her, like Madison had, nor shame her like Teacher had. He wanted to help her. To fix her.
But she was not broken. It had taken her all her life and all her family to convince her, but she knew now that she was not broken, and did not need fixing.
It hurt her that he thought she did.
--
"Why can't you be more like yourself, querida?"
Felipe asked that, many times, over coffee, in the car, on a park bench at lunch. Zack asked it too, though not in words-- a hand on her shoulder, a questioning look, a touch on her hand. It heartened her, that they asked it.
It saddened her too. They were both men, both white, both neurotypical. And while they only asked from love and support, they did not understand that sometimes, when you were different, you could not be yourself.
People hated what was different. And Summer had had enough of hatred.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Four times someone asked Summer why.
Notes: none
"Why can't you be more like the other girls?"
Teacher said it sadly, but Summer knew it for the insult that it was. She was five, not stupid. She couldn't be more like the other girls because she wasn't at all like the other girls, and there was nothing wrong with that. That's what Mama and Papa and Ivy and Aaron said, and Mama and Papa and Ivy and Aaron didn't lie to her.
Much.
Not about this, anyway.
So when Teacher asked that, she replied, "Because I can't," in her most matter-of-fact tone, and got time-out for talking back.
--
"Why can't you be more like normal people?"
Madison said it this time, and there was cruelty in her voice. Summer had been on the receiving end of cruelty too often not to recognize it. Madison wanted her to hurt.
She did hurt, although not how Madison wanted her to. She hurt because Lars didn't know that Madison said it, and Summer didn't want to tell him, because that would be cruel too. It didn't change Lars's relationship-- she wasn't part of that-- and he'd be hurt if he knew.
She wouldn't tell him. No matter how she wanted to.
--
"Why can't you be more like everyone else?"
This was a lover in graduate school, and it hurt Summer more than every other time combined, because he said it out of what he thought was love.
He didn't want to hurt her, like Madison had, nor shame her like Teacher had. He wanted to help her. To fix her.
But she was not broken. It had taken her all her life and all her family to convince her, but she knew now that she was not broken, and did not need fixing.
It hurt her that he thought she did.
--
"Why can't you be more like yourself, querida?"
Felipe asked that, many times, over coffee, in the car, on a park bench at lunch. Zack asked it too, though not in words-- a hand on her shoulder, a questioning look, a touch on her hand. It heartened her, that they asked it.
It saddened her too. They were both men, both white, both neurotypical. And while they only asked from love and support, they did not understand that sometimes, when you were different, you could not be yourself.
People hated what was different. And Summer had had enough of hatred.
