Stikkord: Disabled

Maps of Happiness: On the Hidden Geographies of Life

A reflection on the places, people and versions of ourselves that guide us towards the existence of happiness.

What if happiness is not a destination, but a geograpical line we reach through time?


The life I am still building

When we are born, there is a ‘map’ most of us are handed before we are old enough to question it. Depending on who, what and where we are, said map has roads supposedly leading to sucess;
Through independence, a career, a family and good achievements.
Some routes are wide and well paved, while others are narrow, expensive – or difficult to find all together.
And somewhere along, we are told that following these roads – in the right order, we will arrive at a good and happy life; where we are expected to have become someone.

But what happens when these maps are drawn out without the variation of human bodies in mind?

For many disabled people like myself, the road to ambition stops at a huge roadblock, not yet able to let us go any further. In similar fashion, the road towards independence makes a ‘not-so-small’ detour: towards hospitals, medications, surgeries, lack of job-opportunities, and various changes in what becomes accessible to you.

Our energies are not infinite.
You might have made big plans, but in a body that does not cooperate with them.

These roadblocks are not few – and have a tendency to infect every-single-are of our lives…
– When you want to create something meaningful, but the world keeps asking you to prove that you deserve the opportunity to do so.
– When said opportunity, for no apparent logical reason, requires you to go beyond what your body is capable of.
– And then when shit hits the fan, as said roadblock appears before more and more people, it is those who’ve always been excluded that gets the blame.



The map we were given

As a very ambitious – AND very disabled person, I have spent my entire life so far pushing my body towards the absolute edge of its limits – and paying the price for it in return.
This means learning what I can, and what I cannot do. it also means learning the language of hospital wards, the mathematics of my energy – and the strange geography of a world that does not always make room for people like me.
But fear not! Because my route is not yet finished!

There is nothing inherently wrong with wanting a career, a home, financial independence, a family – or the satisfaction of doing something well.
These are beautiful things to want!
The problem, however, begins when we mistake the arrangement of these things as the finite definition of a meaningful, happy life!

Most societies today are surrounded by a variotion of measurements;
– How much do you earn?
– What do you do?
– How productive are you in life?
– How independent are you?
– How much have you achieved?
– How far have you come towards your goals?

And when that is the daily background noise, whether it be from family, social media or even from your own internalized self; even the concept of happiness can become a performance. AKA; A carefully arranged exhibition of wellness, success and personal growth… And if your life does not resemble this exhibition, you are encouraged to consider – (excuse my language) – what the f. might be wrong with you?!
– Perhaps you’re just not trying hard enough.
– Perhaps you need to be more disiplined.
– Perhaps your ambitions are unrealistic.
– And, perhaps you should be grateful for what you have!
All of which are possible by the way!
And all of which are rational to consider…

But!
There is a particular cruelty in being told to dream smaller, just because the world as it is, refuses to make room for your dreams -thus shut them down with roadblock after roadblock for no logical reason what so ever.

I know ambitions can be complicated when you are disabled. There are many things I want to do, that require more planning than they might for someone else. And opportunities that come with practical barriers. There are days in my life where the current state of my body has a veto in my schedule, whether I like it or not.

But – and this is a big but!
I refuse to believe that the existence of limitations means I should stop wanting things. And I refuse to believe that a disabled person should be less ambitious in order to be more acceptable to society.

And I refuse to confuse a difficult route with an insignificant destination.



A different geography

Whether we like it or not, disability changes the geography of life.
Sometimes the distance between where you are – and where you want to go is measured in kilometres. Sometimes it is measured in personal energy.
Sometimes the distance between wanting something, and being able to do it is not a lack of motivation, but rather a lack of accessibility, support, health, money or opportunity.

Someone ones told me to stay in my lane, accept my defeat so as to not be sad.
But they got it completely wrong.
Because, the potential of my ambitions makes me happy!
And disabled or not, a dream can remain important while the route towars it changes…

If there is one thing I wish were more apparant about disabled lives its this;
We are not all standing at the same starting point, looking at the same road, with the same supplies in our backpacks.
– Silje Elsrud Yttervik

Some of us have spent years learning how to navigate our presence and existence in the world; becoming experts in our own limitations, long before we were old enough to understand why the world seemed so diffucult.

Some have had to learn the difference between accepting what is real, and surrendering to what other people expect of us.
That in itself is a strong distinction, and does not only apply to people with disabilities!

I can acknowledge that my body has limitations, withouth deciding that my future must be limited to said limitations:

I can plan around my health, without making health the only thing to plan around.
I can be ambitious and still need help.
I can take time to rest and relax – and still be serious about my work.
I can have a life that requires adjustments, and still want a life that is rich, meaningful, creative and full of possibilities.

A different route in life is not a smaller life.
It’s a different route.

What if happiness is somewhere else?

Perhaps one of the strangest things about the concept of ambition, is that it can be so closely tied to a spesific destination that we forget to ask whether we actually want to live there.
– Silje Elsrud Yttervik


We are told that happiness comes,
– With the perfect job.
– With financial success.
– With a beautiful home.
– With a good relationship.
– With the perfect body.
– With the perfect family.
In general;
– With the version of ourselves that has become entirely satisfied, achieving all their goals.

But, I believe that for most people,
happiness is not a destination marked on the map. Instead, I view it as a collection of places, people and experiences that make us feel the most like ourselves.

For me, that might be things like playing board-games for hours with my gamer-friends, or having lunch with my girlfrinds in between busy days. In having a fun conversation on the phone, or a walk in the forest behind my house, or visiting known museums while travelling to other cities/countries.

I also find happiness in truly personal things; like curating a safe, calm, clean and beautiful space just for my own pleasure – or listening to music on headphones at home, being completely enmeshed in my own creative headspace.

And it lies here;
in the freedom of knowing that while I have not completed all my dreams thus far – I still have time.
There’s still a road in front of me.

The map is not finished

My vintage-inspired globe placed on the desk with books, a bouquet of dried flowers, candles, and old writing supplies.

I do not know what my future will look like.
I know some of the things I want, some of the obstacles I will face – and I know that there will be times when I need to change my plan(s).

Some of these routes will take longer than I would like. Some things will require help; things I want to create – and directions I want to take, and versions of myself I have not yet met.

But more than anything, I think it is worth remembering, that as the world becomes eager to tell us how our lives should look – and as disabilities are treated as a reason to lower standards rather than a reason to rethink the structures around us;
a meaningful life does not need to follow the map given to us!
To not conflate ambition with achievement – or happiness with productivity.
These things are not the same!

And lastly, perhaps the most important thing we can do is to learn to distinguish between the things we cannot change, and the things we have not yet been able to imagine differently.
This is where true potential lies. And a possible beginning!

___________________________________________________________________


A small task for the week: Draw your own map!

I want to invite you to do something a little different this week.
Take a piece of paper.
On it, draw a map of the life you are building. You can use roads, rooms, islands, stairs, rivers – or just simply words scattered around.
Then ask yourself;

1) What did I learn that a good life was supposed to look like?
Which expectations did you inherit from family, society, school , work or social media?

2) What do I actually want my life to contain?
What matters to YOU specifically?

3) Which ambitions are still alive in me?
What keeps returning, even after dissapointment, illness, uncertainty or time?

4) What would make those ambitions more sustainable?
What support, resources, adjustments, boundaries or changes might help?

5) Where do I already feel like myself?
Places, people, activities or moments.

6) What is one small thing I can do this week that belongs to the life I am building?
A small move towards something bigger



– Silje

The Workplace Was Never Really Built for Everybody – But It Could Be

Maybe I’m not bad at working.
Maybe I’m just bad at pretending to be able-bodied.

Throughout my entire life, there is a certain kind of advice I’ve heard over and over again, as if on constant repeat on the radio. The advice has not always been directed at me specifically – but rather, directed at everyone that don’t neatly fit into the tiny square box human beings (and their entire personalities) are supposed to fit intoo.

And I just happen to be one of them.

From a work-related point of view, it sounds something like this:
– Be more disiplined,
– Become more resilient,
– Take more responsibility for your career,
– Push through any obstacle,
– Just find a way.

And, don’t get me wrong – this is not nesessarily bad advice!
I am a firm believer in personal agency. I believe we all have a personal responsibility for the choices we make, to learn what we can do, and build the lives that makes sense for the people we are.

However – there is a massive problem with the way this advice is usually delivered.

First and foremost, when these types of advices is made, their deliveries assumes the issue is always the individual. That a person lacks these things in their daily lives, and that gaining it would settle everything for the better.
And that is just not the case!

Sometimes the problem at hand has nothing to do with the individual- and everything to do with the environment said individual is asked to function within.

And by marinating in these thoughs regarding my own life, I’ve come to a few conclutions throughout the years.
Conclusions like;
I lack neither disipline nor resilience in relation to work. But there are career obstacles and pathways (litterally) cut away from me, due to things completely out of my control.
Thus, I cannot take any responsibility for its prospects either.

Because, maybe its not that I am bad at working. Maybe I’m just bad at pretending to be able-bodied, in a system relying on pretence.
Which probably explains why I love the concept of remote work so much.

We have confused a ‘workplace model’
with the concept of work itself.

When most of us picture a «proper job» many of us picture roughly the same thing:
– Wake up
– Commute
– Arrive at workplace
– Stay there for X amount of hours,
– Attend meetings
– Answer messages
– Seem visibly productive
– Go home

– Do it again tomorrow…

Now, there is nothing inherently wrong with this type of model. And plenty of people thrive within it.

But it is only one model of working, yet we have all somehow allowed it to become ‘the measurement’ of whether someone is a «real» worker.
And the issues with this type of measurements are plenty – as it entails that:
– If you are able to be physically present for eight + hours you are committed.
– If you need to work from home you are difficult.
– If you need flexible hours, you lack disipline.
– If you need frequent breaks you lack resilience.
– If your health fluctuates, you aren’t reliable (if you’re even hired at all).

This matters!
Because – it means that we cannot solve the problem by just telling disabled people to try harder.

And if your body makes conventional employment impossible?
Well, then you are always the problem…
Except that employment outcomes for disabled people tell a very different story throughout the world…

The International Labour Organization’s research has found substantial disparities in employment, unemployment, and earnings between people with and withouth disabilities. Importantly to note, these differences cannot be adequately explained simply by education, experiences or occupational category. Many disabled people have higher, wanted educations. Many of these people have also had a variety of experiences before becoming disabled.
Instead, the research concludes that the barriers made for hiring are for the most part structural. This includes structural discrimination towards a disabled workforce, a structural lack of accomodation for a potential or already existing disabled worker- and a structural inhability to alter the organization of ‘work’ in itself.

What if we designed work differently?

Now, obviously – I am not claiming that we should make all and every workplace remote, just because I find remote work better for my physical disability and mental health prospects. That would be impossible.
Similarly, I do not think that remote work is necessarily the answer for everyone, disabled or not.
Certain types of work need workshops, some people thrive in offices – and some form of work obviously require a physical presence.

The point I am trying to make is much simpler:
– Why should one particular way of working be treated as the default, when potential workers don’t come in one particular configuration?

The ILO’s research has already recognize many of the things that can make employment more accesible. Their own guidance on workplace adjustments, for example, includes aspects like the modification of both working time, job content and work organizations – as well as both physical and tecnological adjustments. The EU similarly treats reasonable accomodations as an important part of enabeling people with disabilities to participate in employment.

So, perhaps we should stop thinking twice about accesibility as something we reluctantly bolt onto a workplace after a disabled person arrives – and instead treat accesibility as something embedded in the design of said work in the first place. That way it can be valuable to everyone when in need of it.
And there is a number of ways this can be done, by default.

  1. Let «Presence» stop being the definition of productivity

    If a task can be completed remotely, why must it necessarily happen in an office? This does not remove the potential for office work – it simply adds choices for each individual to make.
    After all, if an employee produces exellent work from their kitchen table, does the work somehow become less valuable because their manager couldn’t see them do it?

    I have never understood why visibility has become such a close relative of productivity. Unless it’s based on the need for control – and the lack of trust, In which I would say that the company has much bigger issues to handle.
    After all, someone could spend eight hours in an office and accomplish very little (been there, done that!) – and someone else could spend four hours highly focused at home, and produce something exceptional (once again – been there, done that!)

    The number of hours someone is visible to an office manager, should not be the same as the value they create.

  2. Make Flexibility ordinary

    For some disabled people, having flexibility in ones daily life is not a luxuary; it is the one thing that makes employment possible for them.
    Perhaps someone works better later in the morning, or need various breaks throughout the day.
    Perhaps they can even work for several days being excellent, before they need a quiet day to themselves.
    Perhaps medication affects their energy, or they have regular hospital appointments (usually within work hours).
    Perhaps their condition(s) – and with that their health, fluctuates during the seasons.
    And perhaps they are still exceptional at their work!

    A flexible workplace does not necessarily mean lowering ones expectations, it just means changing when and how various employers reach them.

  3. Designing for fluctuating health-aspects

    This is probably one of the things we still have remarably poor understanding of in society.
    We often imagine poor health and disabilities, as something which is static in its nature;
    – You have a wheelchair = you need a ramp; problem solved!
    But many disabilities fluctuate…
    Some days are good! Some days are bad! Most days are somewhere in between.
    And sometimes, a person’s health can change dramatically, withouth warning.

    For someone like me, for example, an epileptic seizure is not something I can scedule neatly in between meetings. Similarly, various seizures might come in the daily – and need various types of recovery.
    There may be medication changes, leading to a severe change in physical and/ or mental health (for better or worse):
    There may also be periods where my brain needs more rest than usual (as in up to 17 hours of sleep). This does not nesessarily mean that I am incapable of working all together.
    It means, however – that my capacity is not identical every single day. And that said capacity might change through the year(s).

    Personally, I think a good workplace should have mechanisms in place for temporary adjustments and recovery – instead of treating every change in health as evidence that someone is no longer employable.

  4. Stop measuring endurance instead of contribution

    In many ways, this might be my biggest issue with modern productivity culture when within the workspace. Because today, we highly admire, and look up to endurance, with little knowledge of needed restitution. AKA;
    – How early someone wakes up
    – How late they work
    – The amount of meeting they attend, and email they respond to
    – How little they sleep.
    – And how much they can squeeze intoo a day.

    And as someone who used to have a large #FOMO mindset in my late teens, early twenties (with nothing to show for it other than draining myself out of energy) it is completely nuts!

    None of these ‘endurance’ metrics tell us anything about how valuable a person’s work is.
    Because, on the one hand – the work could be exceptional.
    On the other, it could be complete trash.

    And I do not want to live in a world in which whoever can pretend to be A-OKAY for the longest takes the prize, completely regardless of the quality of their work, the quality of their health and the quality of their contribution.

    Instead, I wish for a society where the quality of what someone contributes actually matters. And disabled people definately have valuable contributions. This could be through things like:
    – Inside knowledge related to healtcare
    – Out of the square box creativity and art
    – Life experience similar to aging
    – Ability to problem solve, do to a daily need to do so
    – Entrepeneurial research, leadership and skills

    Oftentimes these contributions come from simply looking at a problem from a different angle. And while our bodies might work differently, that does not mean that our minds, ideas or contribution is less valuable.

And then there is the question of accessibility

There is also another aspect not discussed enough;
Because – what if we stopped waiting around for people to become disabled before making workplaces accessible.
Clear communication is better for everyone. Good digital accessibility can help everyone. Quiet work environments can be better for everyone.
The possibility of remote participation can help everyone. Flexible possibilities within a predictable sceduling can help everyone. Ergonomic and healthcare possibilities can help everyone.

And when workplaces are designed with these variations in mind from the beginning, it results in less friction, less discrimination and more possible opportunities – for everyone!


The cost of exclusion

Furthermore, there is also something rather «strange» about the way we talk about accomodations.
We ask «how much will it cost to accomodate this employee?»
But as a society, we don’t ask «how much will it cost to exclude them?»

Most people want to participate something to the society they live in. But when the labour market (in practice) has put a ban on accomodation for certain marginalized groups, and discrimination towards disabled people are allowed to run wild, most of us feel left out.

And, as mentioned earlier – the ILO’s reasearch shows that the employment and wage gap experienced by disabled people, cannot simply be explained away by inexperiences in education, or actual labour experience. Many of us have plenty to offer. Instead, it is the various system(s) currently in place that are unable to recognize it.

And no,
I don’t believe we can do absolutely everything!

With all this in mind, I do still want to be really clear here. Because, I do not believe in the typical aspirational version of disability usually shown online, in which we are told «You can do anything if you believe it hard enough!».
No, I can’t!
That is not me trying to be edgy – it’s (in my case) a litteral, legal fact:
I cannot drive a car; The law prevents me from doing so, due to my epilepsy.
Similarly, a blind person cannot decide that their sight will return just because they want it to. And, someone paralyzed who uses a wheelchair cannot just decide to get up on their feet because they want it.

Can we work towards it (whatever it is) – if such training is possible and avalaibe?
– Yes.
Does said training automatically mean that we will succeed?
– No.

You can only control what you can control.
And at least to me, that is a much more empowering philosophy than pretending my limitations don’t exist.

To (once again) use myself as an example;
– I can control how I treat myself: (eat, sleeep, possible routines and hobbies). I can adapt and develop my skills, ask for help when in need of it. I can take a good look at my actual limitations, and consider which of these are worth pushing, and which are nessesary to just take into consideration.
So, from a more practical side:
1. I can not drive a car (yet), as I need to be without a seizure for at least a year before doing so. And I can not control my (at current), daily seizures.
2. My epilepsy reacts badly to caffeine and alcohol, and my seizures gets worse from it.
I can control what i consume, so that my seizures don’t get unessesarily worse.

This is personal agency. And while my limitations are there, I still believe it’s possible to build a meaningful life, by just building around them.

Perhaps independence isn’t the goal

In a way, this is also why I’ve become Increasingly out of it, in relation to how we speak about independence.
We are told from childhood that beeing successful means needing nobody. Doing everything ourselves. Working full time, living alone and never asking for help.
But human beings were never actually degined that way. We were created interdependent; we need other people.
The difference is that to many disabled people that reality is made much more visible than to others, from a relatively young age.

The Workplace was never really built for everybody

As we are approaching the end of this, I want to preface that I don’t want a future where disabled people are «graciously permitted» to participate in a workplace designed for somebody else.
Instead,
I want something much more ambitious!
Workplaces designed with human variation in mind. A place where fluctuating energy, brainchemistry, health and the general circumstances of life – varies.
As all lives do.

– I want remote work to be an option in professions that doesn’t require office-attendance.
– I want flexibility in scedules to be seen as a working tool rather than a moral failing.
– I want accomodations to be a normal part of work etiquette, rather than a reason for humiliation and discrimination within the workforce
– I want productivity to mean contribution instead of endurance.

And more than anything, I want becoming disabled to no longer automatically mean loosing your career and livelihood.
And for those of us disabled to be able to proudly say «This is what my body can do. These are the conditions I need. And here is what I can contribute» – and to say it with a spine.

The problem has never been that disabled people can’t work. It’s that we can’t work inside workspaces designed without us in mind.

BUT if we were to re-design it, perhaps the same workspaces that were never built for everyone, could become one that is!


__________________________
A small task for you

This week, think about your own ideal way of working.
Not the job title – or even the salary attached to it.
Not even what society claims a «sucessful career» should look like.

Instead ask;
– What conditions would allow me to do my best work?
Write down the first three that comes to mind.
– What would have to change – in me, my workplace or in society, for those conditions to become possible?

You may discover that the life you want isn’t as impossible as you once thought!


– Silje <3

The Life You Want May Still Exist If You Let It

On disability, ambition, and becoming the person you were meant to be

There is an assumption, and a created narrative I’ve encountered again and again throughout my life.
The assumption is simple:
«Becoming disabled means losing your future».

This type of narrative is not meant litteraly so, but in a practical sense, through time; it’s as if piece by piece,the life you envisioned dissapears.
It might be the career you imagined, or the independence you wished for,
the relationships you dreamt about, or even the person you imagined yourself becoming.

And from my own personal experience;
if you spend enough time around illness, hospitals, and within a variety of social systems – you begin to hear this assumption everywhere.

Sometimes is stands out in the open hallway amongst patients or medical-workers. At other times it’s wispered quietly, disguised as concern between your family, or your friends.

And sometimes; narrated as a helpless fact and a breath of realism, it might come from your own internal voice.


But it is a narrative I no longer believe in.

Instead, lately – I’ve been rendering on a different kind of question.
Because, what if the life I want still exist, If only I’d let it?
Not untouched by illness. Nor free from reality. But still there – and still possible.

And on that note – if my dream life still exist, how would I make it?

My limitations are real. But they do not get to decide who I become.»
– Silje Elsrud Yttervik

Today, I think one of the greatest tradegies many disabled people experience is not illness itself.
Rather, it is the gradual loss of imagination, as we stop allowing ourselves (intentionally or unintentionally)
to dream.

And this is not because we no longer want things in our lives. But because we begin to asssume that we’ll never get them.
Thus, the pain becomes too big – and the consistent dissapointment too substantial.
So we just… lose all hope.
Because hope feels too dangerous.

So we lower our expectations in life…

Then lower them again…

And lower them once more…

Untill we eventually stop asking for what we want altogether.

Instead, we start asking for what seems realistic.
And while realism certainly has its place, I am not convinced it should be allowed to run our entire lives.

Because, truth be told, everyone has limits!

Some are financial, others are social. Some limits are physical – some are psychological.

The difference is that disabled people often see our limits more clearly than everyone else.
Because they are (often) highly visible.
Often heavily documented and measured.
Sometimes even diagnosed

And because our limits are easier to identify, society often mistakes them for the entirety of who we are.

But remember, a limitation is not an identity!
It is simply a condition that must be worked around.

For a very long time, I believed that becoming the woman that I wanted to become, I had to wait for society to give me some sort of permission to do so;
– permission through employment
– permission through approval
– permission through systems that recognize my value through the variety of life experiences I have, that are both rare and unusual.

But the older I get, the less interested I become in waiting.
Because, while these systems play a part – they do not own my imagination.
Nor do they get a say in ME reaching MY goals.
And they certanly do not own my future!

And perhaps the most important part is that, this does not mean ignoring reality.
I am not in any way, shape or form interested in pretending that illness does not exist.
My epilepsy exists. My limitations exists. And my health matters to me, deeply.

But there is a difference between building a life regardless of your limitations, and building a life with limitations in mind.

The first denies reality. The second respects it. And for me, this is where my own freedom of imagination lives.
Not in pretending we have no limitations, but in refusing to let those limitations become the only thing that define us.

So,
my plan moving forward is surprisingly simple.
I am going to continue becoming the woman I want to become.
Not despite my disability, nor regardless of it – but rather alongside it.

I will take my limitations intoo account. Adapt when necessary.
Rest when rest is needed, and ask for help when I have to.
And just… continue.

Because, I am no longer interested in spending my life proving that I too am worthy of big dreams and ambitions.

I am interested in pursuing them…

En kvinne med langt hår sitter ved et skrivebord med en bærbar PC. Hun ser direkte mot kameraet og skriver notater. I bakgrunnen er det rammer med sertifikater og en utsikt over byen. Bordet har bøker om personlig merkevarebygging og en kopp med motiverende tekst.
«Silje pursuing her dreams» – Made with the help of AI!


As such, maybe that is the real lesson disability teaches us.
Not that our lives are over when illness festers,
but rather that everything we do in life becomes highly intentional.

Every choice we make matters more,
every goal we reach matters more – and every relationship; (romantic or platonic) that we invest time and energy intoo, matters more.


Because, when limitations are real and highly visible, we stop taking possibilities for granted!

_________________


A small task for you, reader…

Ask yourself;
«If I stopped asking for permission, what kind of life would I want to live?»
Consider your own limitations, big and small – and consider potential steps you could take around them.

Shut down the assumptions, reframe the narrative.
Be creative!

Then, decide on one small step towards your dreams – and commit to doing it within a week!

And just… continue.

– Silje

When Good Advice Becomes Bad Advice

Why disabled people need a different filter for self-improvement culture

There is a great deal of advice online these days. Some of this advice is absolutely excellent. Some of it has helped me severly improve my life.

And some of it, while well-intentioned-
becomes surprisingly harmful when applied to disabled people.

Recently, I came across a very sucessful entrepeneur argue that people should take complete and full responsibility for the trajectory of their lives.
Now, I understood what she meant by her statement. In many ways, I even agreed with her.

Personal responsibility matters!

But as I listened to the video, I found myself asking a few very simple questions;
How exactly am I responsible for being born with epilepsy? And –
What am I supposed to do about it?

Because, there is a vast difference between taking responsibility and control over what you do in your life, and taking responsibility for things you never controlled in the first place.

And I think many disabled people spend years carrying the guilt of that distinction.

Because,
Responsibility is not the same thing as control.

In fact, one of the most important lessons I have learned as a disabled adult is that responsibility and control are not the same thing.
– I can take responsibility for taking my medication at the apropriate times.
– I can take responsibility for laying off caffeine, alcohol and all other things that negatively affect my disagnosis.
– I can take responsibility for exersizing when my body allows it, eat well by making sure my money prioritize it, and take responsibility for how I talk to myself, how I spend my time – and generally stay on top of my health; whether physical, dental, mental or emotional.

But i cannot take responsibility for being born with epilepsy.
That is beyond my control.
I cannot take responsibility for having seizures daily, even after doing everything I possibly can to avoid them.
And when they do appear, I cannot take responsibility for getting a concussion,
for having to avoid workouts or needing longer hours of sleep, leading to not being able to wake up as early as is recommended.

And this distinction matters.

Because, many forms of self-improvement advice quietly blurs the line between what we influence and what we control.

And once those things become confused, disabled people often end up blaming themselves for circumstances they never had any control over to begin with.
Things that were never theirs to choose.

«You can do anything if you want it badly enough»

This is probably one of the most common pieces of motivational advice in the world.
And it is also one of the least accurate.

To use an example from my own life: I cannot drive a car.
This is not because I don’t want it badly enough. Nor is it because I can’t find a car to drive if needed.
No,
I cannot drive a car, because Norwegian law requires people with epilepsy to be seizure-free for at least a year, before driving. This law has changed significantly througout my life; from 3 years to 2 – and now 1. But I have never been able to reach the appropriate requirement. Which meant that I have not been able – (or allowed!) to practice driving, thus have not been able – (or allowed!) to take the test for a licence.
And no amount of motivation changes that reality for me.

I cannot simply change my seizures on bare belief alone.
And I cannot simply change the law purely by wishing it.
(And in all honesty, I would not want to either, as I would find it irresponsible!)

In a similar fashion, a paralyzed wheelchair user cannot simply decide to walk.
A blind person cannot simply decide to see.
And, a person with chronic fatigue cannot simply decide to have more energy.

We can only work with our current circumstances;

by adapting, learning and growing as people.
But we cannot simply wish biological realities out of existence.

And truthfully,
there is something strangely liberating about accepting that.
Because, once we stop fighting reality, we can begin building lives that actually fit it.

Now I still have high hopes for disabled people in the future. Hopes of high employment, through changing the current system to one more sustainable for all people.
Hopes of hight accessibility to nessesary treatment, by lowering cost, and building knowledge.
Hopes of low stigma, by making medical diagnoses more open to talk about, and hopes of a world where everyone can live, withouth feeling at fault for being born disabled.

So,
here is a list of advice, disabled people should probably leave behind…

There are a few pieces of popular advice that I think disabled people should approach with caution.

X «Your life is entirely your responsibility.»
This is partly true, but ONLY partly.
Genetics matter. Health matter – and access to healthcare matters. Economics matter, discrimination matters. And – the country you were born in matters.
Pretending otherwise is denial of reality; and no amount of empowerment speech is going to change that reality.

X «Never depend on anyone»
Humans are social creatures. And every successful person depends on someone;
Family
Friends
Partners
Parents
Assistents
Coworkers
Teachers
Communities
Doctors
Support workers.

The myth of complete independence is exactly that – a myth.

X «If you’re not succeeding, you’re making excuses.»
Sometimes people are making excuses, there’s no going around that.
Other times however, they are facing genuine barriers that they cannot cross.

Learning the difference between which is what, is a form of wisdom not easy to find.


On the other hand,
here is a list of advice worth keeping!

Fortunately, not all self-improvement advice falls apart under scrutiny.
Some of it becomes even more valuable when viewed through a disabled lens.

V: Build daily agency
Agency is not about controlling everything from hell to heaven. It’s about controlling something. It can be relatively easy things, like; making your bed, taking your medication, answering your emails or keeping track of your finances.

It can be about going to the gym, or going for a walk, or cleaning and organizing parts of your area.

Personally, my current daily agency is very simple;
– 1 task of body movement: like stretching, going for a walk, or working out with a physiotheraphist.
– 1 task of contribution to the home: cleaning, grocery shopping, making dinner or being an emotional support for the rest of my family.
– 1 task of mind growth: reading, writing, learning or slowly building a skill.
– 1 task of future-improvement: writing a blog, working on my newsletter, a future charity organization, taking pictures or videos, or slowly making my books.

Whether big or small, these tasks of daily agency do not cure my disability.
But they have four very important focus-points, that help build confidence, self-esteem, self respect, and momentum over time.

V: Focus on what you can influence
Instead of going all in at once, find something. Just something that a simple change in your daily system, weekly habits or yearly goals can influence for the better. You do not need complete controll to make progress in life, you just need a place to begin.

V: Build interdependence instead of chasing independence
Out if all the lessons I have learned in my early adulthood, this is probably the most important one;
The goal is not independence for the sake of independence.

The goal is a meaningful life.
And sometimes that includes help. Sometimes it includes support. Sometimes it includes accomodations. And there should be no shame in that.

In fact, most societies have always depended on people helping one another.
The African proverb «It takes a village» does not come from nothing.

V: Define contribution more broadly
I believe one of the greatest failures of modern society is how narrowly it defines value.
Because, contribution should not be limited to paid employment, as many people contribute through a variety of different ways;
– caregiving
– volunteering
– art
– mentoring
– friendships
– emotional support
– community building
– and countless other forms of labour that rarely appear on a payslip, yet is completely needed in any society.

«Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much.»
– Helen Keller

I think disabled people often understand this much better than most.
Because, our lives often forces us to recognize something many people spend years trying to avoid:

No one succeeds entirely alone

«Do not judge me by my successes, judge me by how many times I fell down and got back up again.»
– Nelson Mandela

This quote resonates with me far more than most productivity sloagans ever could.
Because resilience is not the absence of limitation.
It is learning how to continue despite of it.


What the research says

Psychologists, such as Edward Deci and Richard Ryan have spent decades studying what helps people thrive.

Their Self-Determination Theory suggests that well-being is strongly linked to three core needs;

-autonomy
– competence
– and relatedness

To put it in other words, people flourish not because they work harder than everyone else, but because they have meaningful choices, opportunities to succeed, and supportive relationships.

I personally believe that is a far more nuanced picture than the idea that success is purely an individual responsibility.
And honestly, feels much closer to reality.

Silje Hjemme
By: Silje Elsrud Yttervik


The truth I keep returning to

Now, of course, before someone tries to take a whip at me, as I mentioned in the beginning of this post; personal responsibility is important.
And the disabled people that I know, are some of the most responsible people I have ever met.
Because, we have to be…

We track medications, we manage symptoms, we attent various appointments, and navigate systemt.
We adapt constantly!

But you cannot know what you cannot get to know – thus to us, a lecture about personal responsibility tends to fall flat.
What we need, instead, is advice that recognizes reality.
Advice that understands the difference between responsibility and blame.

And this is huge – as good advice helps us build lives within our limitations, instead of pretending those limitations do not exist.
This does not mean to never test your own limitations; we all should!
But in a safe and sustainable matter.

Because, for us, going too far too quick, very often lands us in a hospital bed,
considerably worse off then when we started.
I surpassed my limits once in my early 20’s, and ended up with a burnout, worse seizures and a massive fatigue – that I have still not recovered from almost 10 years later…

Good advice – real good advice should make people stronger.
It should not make them feel guilty for things they’ve never had the power to control.
__________________________________________


A task for you, reader…

Today, make two lists:

On the first, write down three things you genuinely have influence over.
On the second, write down three things you have been unfairly blaming yourself for.
Then compare them.

You may discover that one of the heaviest things you carry were never yours to carry in the first place.

– Silje

The Beauty of a «Smaller» Life

The quiet joy of building a life that fits you

So, I wrote about a similar subject a few weeks ago, but really wanted to approach it again – from a slightly different point of view. Because, I find that there is a strange assumption in modern society, that lives worth living must always be LARGE;
Large careers, large social circles, large ambitions, large houses, and large scedules.
As if you’re always expanding, always moving – and always, aaaalways visible to everyone and everything – always!

And, in that same aspect; if your life ever becomes smaller than this, or moves a bit slower – and in general seem more contained, people often assume that something is, well – wrong.

But, I am beginning to think that maybe the opposite is true.
Because, my life is not small, not really – it’s just built around different measurements all together.
My life, built for me and my needs, are planned around adaptation, and especially the adaptation of unpredictability. Because my health can – and often have changed suddenly, and withouth warning.

And, while it is true that this kind of life requires a certain limitation to it, it also creates something else:

A profound appreciation for even the most miniscule forms of happiness!

Especially during the last few years, I have begun to believe that many disabled people experience joy a bit differently than the rest of society.
This is not necessarily because our happiness is lesser than others’s – but because we have become deeply aware of how fragile ordinary life actually can be.

So, simple things like a peaceful morning, a good cup of coffee, a clean, fresh and organized apartment, a good conversation, a creative evening before bed. – Or, in my case, any and all (positive!) changes to a general routine, can make me feel like I’m at the top of the world!

These sort of things are often treated as insignificant by the outside world, so they stop noticing when it happens. But when your body and mind is unpredictable, ordinary peace and ordinary happiness can quickly become extraordinary!

And perhaps that is why ‘disabled joy’ just to put a name to it, can feel so intense at times. Because we notice all the little things many people rush past.

«When one door of happiness closes, another opens.»
– Helen Keller/
@The American Foundation for the Blind

I should preface by making it clear that I do not nesessarily think that romantizicing illness is the way to go. Nor do I think that the loss of something due to illness should automatically become a form of inspiration.

I do however think it is important to recognize that chronic /physical- or mental diseases in life, does change the way we see things.
And in just grieving the life we imagined, we fail to notice the new, simpler forms of happiness growing beside- and in front of us.

For a long time, I though happiness existed somewhere in the future.
In becoming healthier, more independent, more productive – and just more ‘normal’. But I am healthier now in my mid 30’s than I’ve ever been. 10 years ago I was more independent than I am today, and 20 years ago I was definately more productive.
But my god, I can swear that I have never been ‘normal’ xD!

So instead, the older I get, the more I realize that ‘being happy’ is much less dramatic than what my younger self assumed.

Sometimes, it is simply building a life that your body can survive in as it is;
with enough energy, and room to breathe.
And strangely enough that simple adjustment in the way I see happiness, have not in any way made my own life emptier – in many ways it has made if fuller.

Disabled joy is still joy

I also think disabled people are often spoken about only through our suffering. (Which I too am a part of!) And this is not fair.
Because the way we are spoken about, (and at times speak about ourselves), it would seem as if our lives are automatically tragic. As if our pain cancels out all the beauty in the world.
But this is of course not the case!
Because, disabled people fall in love, create art, laugh at stupid jokes and become obsessed with books and TV shows as much as the next person.
We decorate out homes to our tastes and our advantage, drink coffe with friends and dream about our future.

We experience beauty the same way everyone else does. Somethimes even more so than other people.
Because, when you understand how quickly life can change, joy and happiness stops feeling guaranteed
– and instead starts feeling truly precious.

Another thing is that it is something deeply humane about creating a life that fits the person supposed to live in it.
And many disabled people become incredibly intentional about their surroundings.
Whether it be specific routines, lightening, blankets, specifically easy to hold mugs, a bookshelf full of creative art, musical equitment or specific decorations.
Whatever it is, I do not think this is a superficial element – not really.
Instead I think that when your body feels unstable and difficult to control, creating a form of external stability becomes a form of peace .

«The world is full of suffering, but it is also full of the overcoming of it.»
– Helen Keller
@Wikiquote.org

Modern research on well-being also increasingly suggests that happiness is not built only through achievement, but through meaning, social conncection, stability and environments that support our needs.
(arXiv; Linguistic Reflexes of Well-Being and Happiness in Echo).

And perhaps disabled people just understand this fact earlier than most, as we are often forced to ask ourselves a question many people avoid:
– What would actually makes my life feel livable?
Not impressive, nor profitable. Not even socially admired,
but livable.

For me, that means living in a stable home, where I can be financially relaxed. It means sleeping enough (between 10-12 hours ), and have a clear, relaxed routine in the morning and in the evening, as I very easily get stressed. It means committing time to write and to other forms of creativity (mostly every week) to feel a sense of meaning in my days, and to workout to keep growing strong. It also means leaving enough time to eat, to hang out with friends every month, and enough time to just sit with my thoughts. And lastly, it means opening up space for a monthly spark of ‘flexible form of happiness’ come whatever may.

So sure, from the outside my life may not seem very big or impressive.
It is slower than many other’s , with far less noise and far less friction.
But it is carefully structured to function for ME.
The amount of peace I need, the ability to be as creative as I can manage. To fill it with all kinds of beauty and meaning that makes sense to me, even if no one else gets it.

It is also filled with joy; small and big, wide and narrow. And to me that matters much more than living big just for the sake of it, ever could…

___________________________

A small task for you, reader…
Tonight, try to notics one small thing that genuinely made your day better:
– A drink?
– A routine?
– A moment of stillness?
– A clean room?
– A good text message?
– A book?
– Or a soft blanket?

Then ask yourself;
«What makes this insignificant? What would make it not so?».

Maybe happiness is not always found in building a bigger life.
Maybe sometimes, it is found in building one that fits your own size!

– Silje

The Lie of Disabled Equality

On contradiction, exclusions, and the truths society avoids to talk about

Society refuses to fully include disabled people, while simultaneously resenting the cost of excluding us.
– Silje Elsrud Yttervik

From my point of view, there is something deeply contradictory in the way modern society treats disabled people. On the one hand: we are told that all humans deserve dignity. That discrimination is wrong, that modern society values inclusion, and that all human lives matter equally.

On the other hand: the systems modern societies have built for their citizens, tell a very different story.
Within these systems – we; the disabled, are treated as massive burdens from the moment we require support.

And this arises many questions within me. Like:

  • why are disabled accomodations viewed as such an inconvenience?
  • Why are disabled workers so often excluded from the workforce, despite laws that strictly forbids said exclusion?
  • Why are those of us recieving disability support spoken about, as if we are stealing from everyone else?

    And perhaps most importantly:
  • Why -and how are disabled people expected to survive independently, in a system that actively refuse to include us?


The Impossible contradiction

If one takes a second to really think about these things, it becoms pretty obvious that society often demands two completely incompatible things from those of us who are disabled:
1) Be independent.
2) Accept that no one wants to hire you for pay, and that no one wants to provide you with livable means.

And when those two realities clash, it is us – the disabled, who are blamed for the outcome.
As if our illnesses, disabilities and/or cognitive dysfunctions, are moral failures.
And, as if being born different from the ‘assumed’ standard, is somehow a personal crime.

And unfortionately, more than anything, these types of impossible contradictions mirrors a society in which (generally speaking), disabled lives have no value on their own – and the remaining population lacks the integrity to clearly admit it.

What I want my work to say

Me @ Telemetri Examination

If there is one truth I want my own work to cover, it is this:
Disabled people are not lacking in value – it is the systems surrounding us that are lacking in imagination.
Contribution does not only exist in the forms society currently rewards.
Not everyone can survive inside rigid, square – fitted structures, built on endless fake energy, social performance and constant productivity.

But that does not mean we have nothing to offer!

Some people contribute through care. Some through creativity. Others through things like writing, thinking, organizing, supporting, observing, teaching, or just surviving .

And many disabled people spend their entire lives adapting in ways that require the most extraordinary resillience – only for that resillience to be ignored, because it doesn’t fit traditional systems of labour.

The questions society refuses to answer

There is also a much darker truth underneath all of this.
Because, at some point this contradiction becomes impossible to ignore.

Now, I do not think most people consciously hate disabled people. I do, however believe that many people lack critical thinking skills, and that many of these people are – simply put, deeply uncomfortable with us.
Because remember; independence is fragile. Health is temporary, And anyone can become dependent, at any moment. And instead of confronting this fear, society at large tends to project it onto others, and we – the disabled, remind people of this fact.

Which in itself opens an even worse thinking process…
Because, if society acts as if disabled people are fundamentally unworthy of support… then what exactly is the only logical alternative?
That is the question most people rarely wish to follow to it’s conclusion.

Because,
If a society refuses to give disabled people a sustainable form of paid work.
And people within said society believes disabled people should not recieve support.
And if survival requires this support in the form of money, housing, healthcare, food and stability…
Then what exactly is the intended outcome for the disabled people who cannot survive independently without it?

I mean, there are only a limitied number of logical conclutions to this.
Either:

  • Society must meaningfully accomodate disabled existence
  • accept that human value is not tied to their ability
  • and create systems where disabled people can survive with dignity

    OR
  • Society must admit that it is comfortable allowing disabled people to dissapear quietly through death, poverty, neglect, institutionalization, abandonment, or selective prevention before birth.

    Now, I do want to preface that I DO NOT want this to happen!
    But, from a current point of view, this is the only logical conclution.
    WHICH SOUNDS INSANE?!

And what hurts the most as a fellow disabled person, is not that disabled people don’t understand this logic – it is that many of us understand it perfectly, while the society around us insist on pretending otherwise.

What i actually want

Personally, I do not want any pity. And I do not want forced inspiration narratives. What I do want from people, however, is Integrity. I want honesty.
I want disabled people to become a natural part of society. Not as a symbol of something bad that could happen to anyone – but as people, point blank.

And if modern society, and the members of said society cannot provide that inclusion, then at least have the integrity to openly admit it!
Instead of pretending that equality already exist – admit that it doesn’t.

Because pretending disabled people are fully included while systemically excluding us, is just another form of cruel ignorance.
__________________________________________________

A small task for you, reader…

The next time you hear someone complain about disabled people recieving support, pause for a moment and ask yourself:

«what realistic alternative is actually being offered?»
If people cannot access work, cannot access pay, stability, and cannot access accommodation.
– What exactly are they expected to do?

Sometimes, in my opinion, the most uncomfortable questions, reveals the clearest truths.

– Silje

The Hardest Part Was Coming Home

When you leave medical-treatment, there is something no one really preopares you for.
It is not illness itself, nor is it the routines you’ve come to recognize.
Its not even the mental and physical exhaustion of planning, packing, unpacking and resetting. It’s quite litterally coming home.

While I touched on this a few weeks back, and (tecnically) was preopared for it – the true impact of coming back home really hit me right in the face this week!

Because, while in treatment, everything has a structure to it. Your days are held, limits respected (or at the very least acknowledged!) – and when you need to, litterally laying in bed all day feels totally normal.
So in a way, this daily structure acts as a rhytm that moves around your body, instead of constantly pushing against it.

And then suddenly, you come home.
And from one day to the next, it’s as if the world expects you to fit back into a life that no longer fits you.
The structure is removed, and everyone (including yourself btw!) keeps pushing your body and your mind into a rhytm that doesnt sound right anymore.

When real life begins again

No matter how hard you try, coming home from medical rehabilitation is not a return to life as you know it. Instead, it is a negotiation between what you learned in treatment, and what real life demands of you.
You try yur best to hold on to the routines that helped you grow as a person, while also recognizing that your daily structure has completely changed. You may be aware of your limits, but real life is often messier. Much less predictable, not to mention less forgiving.

So as the days go by, you encounter expectations; spoken and unspoken. Things that needs to get done. Things you feel responsible for, even if no one explicitly asked you to carry said responsibility.
– And slowly, almost without noticing, you begin to strech yourself again.

Spring cleaning with a body that has limits

In my case, the diswasher broke about a week after my return (which I had nothing to do with, btw!) – but it was older, and it was bound to happen.
The fact that it happened at this particular time of the year, however – doesn’t exactly help!

Spring in Norway comes with its own structural rhytms; light returning, (most) people’s energy rising, and with it, the almost ritualistic need to clean, reset, and start fresh.
And I am definately a part of that!

At current, I live in a basement apartment in my parent’s house. I pay nothing to live here, and because of that – I feel a deep responsibility to contribute; especially through cleaning.

The thing is: my own space takes maybe five minutes to clean. I am very tidy, very structured – and I organize (litterally!) all of my belongings every season.

The rest of the house is another story all together. Due to this, cleaning – and especially Spring Cleaning becomes something else entirely. Its not a quick task to finish and complete, but an ongoing cycle, that no matter how much I do – seems to return within a few days.

So it leaves me either feeling constantly tired and irritated at the lack of organized, tidy spaces – or stressed out of my mind from trying to keep it organized and tidy!
And because I feel grateful to be able to live here – truly grateful – I keep doing it.

I do it, even when my body doesn’t quite have the capacity.
Even when I know – realistically, that I only have the energy to do it once a week.
And I keep doing it, even when it starts to take from the things I am trying to build on my own.

You can be grateful and still overwhelmed

Personally, I think this is the part many people (myself incluced) struggle to accept. Because, I am grateful – and I am overwhelmed!
Both are true!

I am grateful to have a place to live, and grateful for the support of my family through decades of balancing and navigating diseased/ disabled-realities, with life experience.
I am grateful that I don’t stand alone through this.

But I am also highly stressed;
Physically exhausted from trying to balance exersize, cleaning and basic health goals, and mentally drained from the constant awareness of what still needs to be done.

And perhaps, most importantly – I am fully aware that much of this pressure is internal. After all, no one is forcing me to clean beyond what I can manage. No one here (beyond myself!) is demanding perfection.
But gratitude, when it turns into obligations, can feel very heavy.

It can make you prioritize everything except yourself – and call it responsibility.

When helping starts to cost too much

As we keep pushing ourselves to keep going, there is a quiet line somewhere, between contributing and overextending.
And I think coming home has made that line very, very visible for me!

On the one hand, I want to help, give back, and be someone who contributes – yet on the other, I am also someone with a body and mind that has limits.
And when I ignore said limits – when I clean instead of resting, push instead of pacing – and on the whole, choose responsibility over sustainability – it can cost me!

It costs me stability, it affects my sleep, my stress levels rise – and it depletes my ability to focus on the things I enjoy doing; the things I am trying to build. Whether it be work opportunities, creative projects or even my future potential as a whole.
And this is not a fair trade.

What I am trying to learn now

If being in treatment taught me anything, it is this;
Structure is not something you leave behing when you go home. It is something you have to protect!
This means making choices that might feel uncomfortable;
cleaning less, resting more, allowing for things to be imperfect – and allowing myself to prioritize long-term stability, over short-term satisfaction.

It means accepting that contributing does not have to mean exhausting myself to the point of breaking. And that not doing so, to protect my own healt – is fully my own responsibility.

A small pause

So yesterday I chose something different, I took a small break.
A small break from cleaning, a break from writing – and just paused.
Instead I went to the hairdresser, and sat down while someone tended to my hair.
I brought a book to read, was served coffe and snacks – and a weight was lifted off my shoulders.
No cleaning. No fixing, and no adjusting.
Just sitting, reading and existing in my own space.
And maybe that, more than anything, is what coming home is really about;
refusing to return to what was – but slowly learning how to live,

differently than before.
—————————————

A bend in the road is not the end of the road…Unless you fail to make the turn. – Helen Keller

A small task for you, reader…

Before you go to bed tonight, take a moment and ask yourself;
– What is one thing I can let be good enough this week?

Then allow yourself – fully – to leave it there.
Remember, rebuilding a life is not about doing everything. It is about picking and choosing what really matters, and letting the rest wait…

– Silje

The Shape of Hope: Redefining What Progress Looks Like

Even the smallest person can change the course of the future.»
– J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings


The Shape of Hope
For many, the ‘standardized’ concept of hope is an unfamiliar subject. It tends to move quickly and burn bright; like changing the world overnight.
But whether we are aware of it or not, the shape of hope is not tied to this ultra-speedy nature.
Most of my own interaction with the subject, is a type of hope that moves kind of like water; it’s slow – quiet, and utterly relentless!
With this type of hope, progress doesn’t follow the world’s idea of sucess. It’s not about sprinting to the finish line as we’ve been told to do, but rather about adapting to the current; flowing ahead live rivers carving through stone; patient and determined.

Whether your own experience with the feeling of hope stems from the ‘standardized’ or ‘slower’ type – for many disabled people, we have no choice in the matter…
In the last few years, I’ve learned to stop measuring my life by the pace other expect.
What’s interesting about that (at least to me), is that I’ve never really cared about other’s people’s perception of me – and I’ve never truly done anything for the validation of other people. Yet, even I have had personal expectations towards the progression of my own life, which have largely been based on the ‘standardized’ progress of other people.

In some ways this can be good, for finding out where you belong on the ‘scale of life’. Yet in other ways, it can lead to people acting inauthentic and misaligned with their own hopes and dreams; which in turn may lead to feeling even worse about onesself.

So, Instead of attempting to continue my life’s progression through the pace of someone who isn’t partially disabled, I decided to follow my hopes and dreams through the lens of someone who is. Following a pace that is fitted for me, recognizing that I might have to do thing differently than what I was taught growing up – and recognizing that this does not have to be a negative adaption.

And the result of that, has changed not only the way I view my own life, through its bits and pieces, but also the way i look at hope.

Doing things slowly, just means that the foundation is built before what makes you see true progress. In turn, said progress is much more likely to stick – and adapt whenever it needs to.

As an example;
I’ve wanted to loose weight since I was a preteen, but it was only during the last two years that I’ve been able to loose it. By that time I’d, consulted a woman about my eating habits – found out it was my genetical diseases and not my diet that kept me overweight (for the most part) – and (despite my scepticism), when I finally agreed to try these ‘diet perscriptions’ I suddenly began loosing weigh.

By that time, however I had already been working out with a physiotheraphist for almost 10 years, building muscle. I’d started slowly bying nice clothes in smaller sizes, while also learning how to sow in various clothes myself. I had a small – yet effective skincare routine, to stop my skin from sagging to much, and had a list of healthy meals to make sure I ate what my body needed.
Furthermore, the things I used to dislike about my body (like having a very thick bone structure) suddenly worked in my favour, as my very slow progression and heavy training lead to loads more muscle, and very little loose skin overall.
All this was my foundation, and it has been adapting constantly!
Now, I’m still not finished with my weight-loss; will in fact probably take another full year before I’m done, but now that my foundation is fully set, the hope of being as healthy and fit as I wish is much – much closer!

Progress Loves Progress
Interestingly eniough, I noticed that as soon as my hope of loosing weight started taking a turn for the better, so did several of my other hopes and dreams.
And when I look at what I’ve actually built during the last two years, I am truly proud of myself (which isnot something I often get)!
I managed to built a blog despite being terrible at internett-stuff in general.
I made a hardcopy book from scratch, despite not knowing the full production beforehand.
I started making videos and recording monologues, despite not knowing how to properly edit it – something I never thought I’d be able to do!

And each of these are the beginning of a new foundation.
Each took time, energy and heavy faith in myself, when the world didn’t see what I could do. You know, the kind of faith that came from me showing myself that when I hope for something (like loosing weigh) I manage to do it…

And when I stopped waiting for permission and just started creating something of my own, I realized something radical: even if other’s can’t see my potential, I do.
And that is enough to keep growing!

What Progress Looks Like
Progress for me, isn’t about speed or competition. It’s about direction.
I would much rather move slowly and steadily the right way – one step, one breath and one word at a time – than risk being torn to pieces with a limb in every direction.
Others might differ.
Many, especially those whose potential speed exceeds my own, might use said speed to have faster, more scattered progress – to each their own.
Sometimes, hope is about trusting that ones own path, however winding, has a meaning. That every small act; a sentence written, a post published, a quiet morning spent reflecting – is progress in itself.

After all, hope of progress can be found where you’re able to look for it!

«Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense.»
– Václav Havel

So if you’re reading this and you feel left behind, invisible, or unsure of where you’re heading – Take a breath. And pause.
Look at how far you’ve already come, what you’ve already built in the dark. And believe that you are further along than you think.

Because, hope isn’t a finish line. Rather, it’s the shape you carve out with your own persistance; fast or slow, steady – and unimaginably strong!

—

Photo by Rosie Kerr on Unsplash
Image by: Rosie Kerr @Unsplash

Reflection Task
This week, take 15 minutes to write down three things you’ve done during 2025 that past you thought was impossible. Don’t measure them by how big or ‘impressive’ they are – measure them by how much they mean to you.
This is the shape of hope!

– Silje