I've always known I was different, but it wasn't until 2021 that I finally learned the name of my condition: cerebral palsy. This revelation set me on a path to understanding not only my own condition but also other neurodevelopmental disabilities like autism, ADHD, dyspraxia, and auditory processing disorder. It was an autistic person from the neurodivergent community who was kind enough to explain the basics to me, helping me understand why I felt so different. Initially, I was convinced I had dyspraxia because it affects a person's ability to control their body.

But when I asked my family if this was my condition, they told me, "You actually have cerebral palsy."

Thinking back to my school days, I remember struggling more than other kids, never fully understanding why. One vivid memory stands out: I was trying to complete my notes in an empty classroom while everyone else was out for physical education. I had a meltdown, feeling extremely worthless compared to the deaf percussionist Evelyn Glennie, whom the notes were about. This moment of deep frustration and loneliness highlighted my ongoing battle with an undefined condition.

Despite these early challenges, I've learned how to take care of myself and keep my mental health in check. I can manage most of my daily activities as long as I'm not rushed. To cope with harsh realities, I often turn to escapism. Creative activities like writing poems and articles or making semi-abstract digital drawings help me process my thoughts and emotions honestly, preventing them from being bottled up. This artistic outlet has become essential for my mental well-being.

Parallel to managing my condition, understanding and accepting my identity as bisexual and nonbinary has been a journey.

I first realised I was bisexual when I developed a crush on a female classmate, prompting me to explore queer communities and become sure of my bisexuality. My gender identity exploration began when a close queer friend asked if I was comfortable being referred to as a woman. I realised I never truly felt like a girl and was only trying to fit in. Discovering I was nonbinary made me feel more comfortable in my own body than I ever thought possible, adding another layer of self-acceptance to my life.

Having cerebral palsy doesn't change how I view my queerness, but it certainly affects how I experience it.

Going out freely is challenging due to the lack of accommodations for my disability, and people's perceptions of me as visibly disabled make it quite difficult to socialise and make friends. Yet, my art and writing serve as powerful tools to express my intersectional, marginalised identity and advocate for LGBTQ+ and disability rights. This advocacy is woven into my creative expression and is central to my future goals.

Becoming active online, I came to the realisation that expressing my gender and sexuality is different online versus offline, adding complexity to my personal narrative.

Online, I'm more open, but offline, I'm not fully out to my parents. I wear what I find comfortable and have told my parents about my chosen name and that I'm neither a girl nor a boy, but they haven't taken it seriously.

However, my two elder sisters know everything about my queerness and my current relationship with an adorable trans girl, providing me with a crucial support system. 

Ultimately, my journey is about embracing my identity in all its complexity and finding ways to connect and advocate through my creative expressions. By continuing to create art and write about queerness and disability, I hope to meet and interact with more queer and/or disabled people in real life, just as I do online. In the end, this journey of self-discovery and advocacy is what drives me forward, inspiring me to connect with and support others along the way.