That Mom With CP

It used to infuriate me when someone would treat me as if CP was my entire identity.

I spent so long dwelling on comments, actions, and looks that I began to believe their assumptions were right.

And I slowly began to hate myself and my disability.

There are days when I still hear their voices.
The ones who said things they probably didn’t think twice about — but I did. The people who underestimated me, made assumptions, or offered “help” that came with pity.

Most of them weren’t trying to be cruel. They just didn’t understand what living with cerebral palsy actually means.

But some people were cruel.
Some said things that were meant to sting. They didn’t care how their words landed, or how small they made me feel. And honestly, those comments still replay in my head sometimes — especially on days when I’m already doubting myself.

When you live with CP, you get used to being misunderstood. You learn to smile, to make jokes, to pretend it doesn’t bother you. But underneath, it does. Every look, every doubt, every offhand comment adds up until you start to wonder if maybe they’re right — if maybe you are less capable, less strong, less worthy, less enough.

I wish I could say I’ve completely let go of that. I haven’t.

I’m still learning how.

Some days I feel strong and grounded — proud of the way I show up as a mom, a wife, a woman who keeps going even when it’s hard. Other days, forgiveness feels impossible. I don’t always want to be the bigger person. I want people to own what they said and how it made me feel.

But holding onto that anger doesn’t fix anything. It just wears me down.

And Christ calls us to forgive. Not on our own strength, but through His.

So, I’m trying — slowly — to forgive. Not because I’m some beacon of grace, but because I want peace more than I want payback. I want to stop replaying the hurt. I want to live free, not weighed down by what someone else didn’t understand.

Forgiveness, for me, isn’t neat or final. It’s something I have to do over and over — sometimes for the same person, sometimes for myself.

I don’t have it all figured out.

I’m still working on exhibiting forgiveness when the pain of my experiences and the insensitivity of others feels so fresh.

But I’m learning that forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting, or pretending it didn’t matter. It means giving myself permission to move forward — even when the pain still lingers.

If you’ve ever been misunderstood, underestimated, or intentionally hurt, I get it. You don’t have to be at peace with it right now. You don’t have to rush your healing.

Just keep showing up. Keep choosing yourself.
And when you’re ready — even if it’s only a little — start letting go of the things that keep you small.
Because even in the messy middle of it, there’s freedom waiting.

How have you handled forgiveness? Let me know below!