I see you and I hear you

By Mirela

June is aphasia awareness month, and I want to say to all those living with aphasia, I see you and I hear you.

I have been living with aphasia since February this year. I have read your stories, posts and questions and I admire your courage in being vulnerable and reaching out to connect with your peers. I wish I had done the same after my stroke.

I withdrew from social interactions out of embarrassment over my speech limitations, which only led to feelings of isolation and loneliness.

When I eventually reached out, some people distanced themselves, but I also discovered incredible support and love from friends who truly saw me and remained with me on this journey.

While we cannot force anyone to stay in our lives, we can always invest in our wellbeing to foster inner wellness. For me, improving my speech as quickly as possible was crucial as I wanted to return to my teaching job. But the more I stressed about it, the worse my speech became, which was incredibly frustrating.

Eventually, I realised that perhaps I could embrace the stroke as an opportunity to create a new, possibly better life, based on compassion, gentleness, and wisdom. This meant making new friends and finding people who truly see the new me.

I’ve found people who see me for who I am, not just my stroke. I did this by putting myself out there and asking for help. I stopped hiding the fact that I am experiencing stroke related aphasia.

I have engaged in activities that make me feel grounded, improving my self-esteem and wellbeing. I write journals, record my speech, write letters, draw, and recently started making videos.

I asked for extra time on assignments at university, attended speech therapy, and explored music and sound therapy, therapeutic dancing, meditation, family constellation sessions, singing classes, karaoke, and going to the gym.

These activities have helped me improve my speech significantly and now feel totally comfortable being myself.

Finding and nurturing my sense of self was a key milestone. Though I don’t talk as much as I used to, and haven't returned to teaching, I am surrounded by people who are happy to see me, and I enjoy listening and being around them. I’ve strengthened my belief that I am not defined by my stroke and that it’s okay to be me. Aphasia is a bridge I can cross at my own pace, little by little, and goal by goal.

Thank you to everyone who shares their lived experience, with compassion and generosity.