Stimming from a stimmers prospective.

I have always had 'tics' about me little things when my surroundings would make my skin crawl and feel like it was being glomped by imaginary monsters, my ears were literally every sound felt like a stinging bee, and the light tried to set fire to my eyeballs or when my emotions ran high in terms of excitement or if I was really upset.

Stimming either cancels out too much stimulation or gives me stimulation when I need it.

I flap.

My flapping harms no one, NADA, yet I lived in a world where adults had no qualms in bellowing "SAFE HANDS JESSICA!", "STOP THAT", and also had no qualms in restraining those happy, sad, or irritated hands. You can read my whole mood by my hands. By the intensity I am engaged with a squishy ball, by the tenseness of the flapping, by the happiness/excitement, it's all there in my hands and expressed by quick a quick *flap* *flap* *flap*.

 The flapping is my buffer. A precious buffer and a beautiful form of expression in a world I often get left behind in, in a world that is often too loud, in a world that is already working against me, in a world that does not come softly stimming is my saviour.

And it hurts no one. Nada.

The reality is I am different and this is a part of me. I'm done letting people try and change it, but as an Educational Assistant I found myself uttering the phrase "Safe hands" and it left a sick taste in my mouth because I understood WHY it was occurring and it's purpose. There is a reason for every behavior even if you can't always understand the why.

I'm Flappy happy, Flappy sad, Flappy, mad, Flappy glad, Flappy excited Etc. You get the point. And I think it makes me beautiful.

Jess the Brave,