Talking numbers

According to the British Dyslexia Association, "definitions and diagnoses of dyscalculia are in their infancy and sometimes contradictory, it is difficult to suggest a prevalence, but research suggests it is around 5%". Take from that what you will, I can't tell if '5%' is a big or small number because it doesn't mean anything to me. However, the fact that this association states that "it is difficult to suggest a prevalence" tells me that more people than we think could have dyscalculia and are yet to be diagnosed. This also tells me that there needs to be more awareness of it. 

When I was younger, I was in top set maths (reception until year three), then for some reason it was like I'd run straight into a brick wall and was moved into pretty much the lowest maths set, where I remained until I was able to drop it at university. 

What about GCSE's and A-levels? I hear you ask. Well...those are stories in themselves. Generally speaking I scored about a two or three throughout secondary school, although I started scoring fours towards the end. My first secondary school maths teacher left meaning that we had substitutes for an entire year. Then we had a year of teachers with various interesting approaches to teaching us the same material over and over and somehow not teaching us the full curriculum for the foundation paper. In my final year of secondary I finally had a teacher who believed that we could all pass but by then it was too late... In spite of hours spent studying, revising and being taught by various tutors and teachers who genuinely believed they could get my shockingly low grade up, I still failed my maths GCSE. On my first attempt I scored a mighty two (in between an E and an F) meaning that I had to continue to take maths classes and re-take GCSE tests until either I passed or I was still failing at the end of my A-Levels. 

Yes, it was actually a part of my agreement at college that I would continue to take those classes in order to do my A-levels. An agreement I willingly signed because I wanted to study Drama (which I had to drop after a few months of starting but made up for by picking up an AS level in Sociology in my second year), History and English literature and language. This meant that I was trying to pass a GCSE I failed significantly in, whilst trying to maintain my other subjects and get grades good enough for the university I wanted to go to.

Due to the fact that I got a two in my first GCSE attempt, I was placed in a class of other people who were about the same level. This was fine in theory because it meant the pace was pretty steady, however it meant that we were all prevented from doing the November GCSE re-take. I was outraged! I had less chances to pass because I wouldn't be able to do a re-take until the summer. I improved my grade a bit and ended up scoring a three. I mean I was pleased that I improved, but I was also devastated that I didn't pass. I was both proud of the friends I'd made who were able to leave maths for good but I was upset that I couldn't leave with them. 

I've always known that I have family history of dyscalculia and dyslexia, so after that second failed attempt I decided to talk to one of my family members. She said that by the sounds of it, it was highly likely that I had dyscalculia and that I should try and get a diagnosis to help figure out how it was that I kept failing this exam. After many conversations, arrangements were made and in August twenty twenty, I went through an intense morning of testing. Both my literacy and maths skills were tested and compared with each other. Now before we continue, I'd like to point out that the diagnostic tests, carried out by the specific learning difficulties assessor, for dyslexia were British but the tests for dyscalculia were American. This is because (as far as I understand), those kinds of tests don't even exist in the UK yet. This is how little research and awareness there is of/about dyscalculia (otherwise known as dyscalculus). 

Below are the scores I got on the tests....

If we ignore what the numbers mean (again, I can't understand them) then their position in the table basically shows that my English skills are pretty good and my maths skills are fundamentally shit. Hence why, amongst other factors, I was diagnosed with dyscalculia.

This was a major relief in one sense because it meant that the problem wasn't me not working hard enough or using the wrong revision methods. However it caused a major amount of anxiety because I knew that I was physically unlikely (more on this in a bit) to ever be able to pass my GCSE maths. The assessor advised that I complete a 'functional skills test' in mathematics rather than a GCSE, but when I spoke to my college about it when I moved into second year in September, I wasn't given the option. To make matters worse, I had started looking at universities because I wanted to study 'English literature and Creative writing' and found that pretty much EVERY SINGLE ONE REQUIRED AT LEAST A PASS IN MATHS AS A 'BASIC' REQUIREMENT!!!

I, once again, saw a tutor as well as doing another round of GCSE maths classes. When I went to my first maths class as a second year, I was even more aware of the extent of my failure as I was placed into a class with mostly first years because there wasn't enough second years to make up two classes. Thankfully I ended up having the best maths teachers I'd ever had and one of my friends, who was a maths genius, tutored me and helped me revise. Another godsend was that I was finally allowed to take the November re-take having gotten a three that summer. I threw myself into trying to pass (again) and even told my language teacher that I wouldn't have the time to revise for her test after October half term because I needed to devote all of my energy into passing my maths exam and asked her if I could do it another time. I'm still grateful for the support of all of my A-level teachers throughout my A-levels (especially during this time). 

If you've ever done an exam, you might understand a version of how it feels to have to wait a few months to receive results. IT WAS THE WORST! When I applied to the universities I wanted to go to that December, my top choice requested a GCSE maths grade four as part of the conditions of their conditional offer. I wasn't due to get my maths result until February. I wanted to cry. I was so scared of the result...and then I finally got a four. 

I ACTUALLY ACHIEVED A FOUR IN THE SAME YEAR I GOT MY DIAGNOSIS- I still have absolutely no idea how the heck that happened. 

That's the story of how I finally got to stop taking maths classes in November 2020, passed my maths GCSE and (partly) how I got accepted into my top choice university.

A long-ish post, I know but hang in there folks, there's more I want to say...

Everyone's experience of everything is different. As such, I'd like to talk about my personal experience with Dyscalculia and how I understand it. Firstly, it is a physical problem. A part of my brain sees a number and goes "Yikes, fuck this, I'm out!" causing a number of problems: slower initial processing (I have a short term memory of Dory so I need things repeated/I need to write things down ASAP), I can't see patterns even if they are obvious, numbers can look back to front or look like different numbers, generally I cannot understand maths concepts/I can't really comprehend numbers (meaning that the only way I can understand things is through words), I rely on my fingers to do counting, I can't really do mental maths that well, I have no concept of time (meaning I struggle with time management and arranging times), I can't comprehend distance that well, I can't read maps or any kind of chart that is numbers based, I can't understand any kind of division or subtraction, I struggle with page references and page numbers...basically if it involves a number beyond ten, I can't really comprehend it that well.

In short, maths is a language I can't translate, read, write or speak. 

Admittedly this is not something I'm proud of and not something I ever go into too much detail about. I simply brush it off as "number blindness" because not many people know about dyscalculia and it is difficult to explain the true extent to which it affects me on a daily basis. Also it makes me feel incredibly stupid. I can't follow conversations with numbers in them that well and when people mention lots of numbers in rapid succession, I get a bit lost. I try to compensate for the part of my brain that doesn't work the way it should by going over and over things with numbers or saying that I understand something in the moment and doing research to try and make it make sense later. 

Recently, I told the person I love about the reality of my dyscalculia and his patience and understanding have really helped. It has allowed me to start admitting when something doesn't make sense and to start seeing the benefits of having it. Yes, there are some amazing benefits: my reading speed is super fast, I find it easy to pick up vocabulary and learn new languages (as well as de-cypher various old versions of English), I see details that people sometimes miss/less obvious meanings, I can be creative in an unusual way because I don't naturally work with patterns and conventional rules, my mind is incredibly visual so I find it easy to picture/imagine things in twoD, I can use words pretty well, I'm good finding multiple conflicting ideas and I have an eye for colours.

Honestly, I've been so scared to make this post for such a long time because I don't want to be perceived as stupid and I don't want it to overshadow the things that I can do. However, I've come to realise that not only will talking about it hopefully start to make things a bit easier, but it will also hopefully help raise awareness and start a conversation.

Learning difficulties are not a sign of a lack of intelligence and they are certainly not something to brush under the carpet. I don't understand why people with specific learning difficulties, like dyslexia and dyscalculia, are forced to keep re-taking exams that their brains are not suited for. It should be a decision given to each individual and definitely shouldn't be a requirement for higher education unless the course is directly, consistently and heavily related to the subject. Even then, these learning difficulties shouldn't present an impossible barrier to some careers. We need to learn how to work with these gifts and use them to our advantage. We need to bring conversations about the vast range of learning difficulties and disabilities into the light. 

So yes. I have dyscalculia. It doesn't make my personal life better or worse, it's something I've probably had for a very long time. It's a part of me but it shouldn't consume me. Society really needs to get it's shit together and start making the world MORE ACCESSIBLE FOR EVERYONE regardless of their identity and unique lived experience. It is also important to, again, raise awareness of the fact that EVERYONE'S EXPERIENCE IS UNIQUE AND VALID. 

I have dyscalculia and I'm beginning to overcome my fears... it starts with me stating that I'm not ashamed of having dyscalculia. I challenge you, dear reader, to educate yourselves more on a disability, learning difficulty, gender identity, sexuality, race, religion, gender, class etc that you don't know about. 

If you have any questions or would like to find out more about my individual experience with dyscalculia, feel free to ask.

- Amello

My Chronic aspirations

Some people are brought up to aspire to do a job with not just a good income but a great income. Some people have to do that kind of a job out of necessity. Some don't even get the chance. Some...some just don't know. 

Whilst I was growing up, I was taught about the importance of "meritocracy", work hard enough and you can achieve anything. My parents for the most part still hold this belief, they both became engineers through hard work and seizing all of the "right" opportunities, my mother especially had to rely on those which were externally provided due to her working class upbringing. She has always been some what of a role model to me simply because she has proved that if you put your mind to it, you really can achieve what you aspire to. That being said, she also believes that her career was chosen for her as she entered her profession through an apprenticeship. My stepdad on the other hand was especially gifted in maths and he essentially found engineering through looking at a prospectus and thinking "I'm interested in that and I could do that". 

I have never been one to aspire to money, but I think that's because I was never taught to, I was taught to have dreams and aspire to whatever my heart's desire. This was enforced by my middle school   RE/History teacher, who once stopped a lesson to talk about all of the jobs he had previously. He told us that the reason he'd worked his way through so many was that he was in the pursuit of happiness so he left a job whenever it became a drag. He spent so long looking for the spark that makes you feel excited to go to work or persist through difficult situations, that when he eventually found it in teaching he knew he would hold onto it for as long as he possibly could and this passion really shone through his teaching. He is up there with the best and most memorable teachers and his lessons really stuck with me. He taught me to aspire to true happiness rather than job security. 

Throughout my time in education so far, I've been asked a heck of a lot about what I aspire to. In middle school I was the " shy art girl", the type of person people would come up to and say "can you draw me?" I became really interested in fashion and spent lots of time drawing up various designs for clothes. I experimented with my style and have been through many different phases of clothing styles, in middle school I was also a major anime geek and learned lots about various popular Japanese clothing movements. I tried "fairy kei", "Sweet Lolita" and some non Japanese clothing styles such as "emo" and "pastel goth". 

What confirmed my love was a school trip, which I got selected to attend, to clothes show live at the Birmingham NEC. I saw my first fashion show, which inspired lots of my art afterwards, however a lot of the fashion at the show was what my classmates considered to be "conventional" and "very on trend". I didn't get the appeal of emojis and crop-tops at all, even so, afterwards I spent so much time changing my style. I felt like such an outsider, especially as I hadn't lived in the village as long as most of them had, so I wore clothes I hated to try and fit in and I experimented with makeup because I learned for the first time that lots of them not only wore it, but actually believed that every girl should wear it. A cruel tool to fix those who aren't seen as naturally beautiful, the opinion held at the time by most of my peers, who were only 12/13 years old. 

My dreams of fashion died when I changed my mind about taking GCSE art within the first 2 weeks of starting it in secondary school. I remember thinking "I hate this, there's no sewing on the course, what's the point, I can't get stuck with this!" so I switched to one of the few courses with spaces left: BTEC Health and Social care. I really loved the course during my first year of studying it. However, during this first year I really wanted to be an "astronaut" so I did everything I could to attempt to become really damn good at science, alas, it wasn't meant to be. For the first time, I learned that most of the time people choose careers in areas that they are good at and that there are some things that no matter hard you try, they just won't work out. In this case, I was good at science but my maths skills were non-existent, I had a knack for biology, I was decent at chemistry because I thought that experiments and cooking were one in the same (all you had to do was follow the recipe) and physics...was a nightmare. Whilst I did end up in a high set for science (set 2A) because I could do 2 out of the 3 disciplines, I came to the understanding that I had to find something else. 

Health and social care turned out to be a hidden talent, so I began researching careers in the industry and finding out what kind of A-Levels I would need to enter it. Baring in mind that I started acting when I was 5 years old, when I found out that it is possible to become a "drama therapist" I was all over it. Yes, I decided that was what I would become. When I moved up to secondary school, I discovered the writing side of acting for the first time and I really struggled with it, since the vast majority of the year group was essentially made up of 2 schools which had merged together, only half of us had learned how to write about acting and the other half had only learned about drama practical. If you couldn't already tell, I was part of the latter group because my middle school didn't do any kind of written work in drama. In spite of this, I thought that with my ability in English and my history of acting opportunities, I thought that all I would have to do was put a bit more effort into my work and the writing would match my practical ability. Nope. I actually failed every single one of my GCSE drama mocks. I wanted to be a "drama therapist" up until I reached year 11. I wouldn't accept failure and still believed with every ounce of my being that I could do anything I put my mind to no matter how long it took. I asked my teacher for help with writing but he refused because he didn't believe I could do it, in that moment I became more determined than ever to prove everyone wrong...

My life completely changed in September year 11, when I was 16, suddenly my world crumbled and I had to face the idea that aspirations have to be realistic. I found Health and Social care too easy and got really bored with the subject yet I still believed that continuing to pursue drama therapy would re-spark my interest. Then, after an incident in PE, I fainted for the first time. Initially, it was thought to be due to poor eating habits and exhaustion, however it happened again and again and again. I was given medical leave for a week and the moment I returned to school, it kept happening again and again and again. I spent the best part of a month being told to "snap out of it" and "stop faking it", I did my best to explain that I couldn't control it but nobody really believed me until it became such a problem that I had to go to the doctor. There had to be an explanation. My doctor confirmed it wasn't eating or sleeping habits, although they were contributing to the severity of my anxiety, so a blood test led to a hospital referral, led to 48 hours in hospital having every check in existence, including blood pressure checks every few hours and a very painful heart ultrasound...and after all of that, they found nothing. I was asked if I felt stressed and I said "no" because I genuinely didn't, it was GCSE year and I felt confident in the fact that I started revision before practically anyone I knew. So I was sent home with no kind of diagnosis and no advice other than, this is just a phase, it should go in about 6 months. It didn't. 

From that moment until after my exams, I endured a lot of hell from people who refused to see this as a problem I genuinely had no control over other than how I mentally handled it. Name calling: I endured it from students and teachers alike, cyberbullying: I tried to report it but nobody believed it. My school even tried to exclude me for having an illness, thank heck for my parents who explained "you wouldn't exclude someone for having a broken leg so why would you exclude someone for having a mental illness?" Thankfully, I was able to stay in school and even though I missed a few exams due to having "attacks" I still passed every single one of my GCSE's, except maths, averaging at around a B, with my highest grade being my Distinction* in Health and social care. I even passed my drama practical assessment in spite of having to attempt it twice due to an attack. I was also given a diagnosis that summer: NEAD.

My disorder has many names, PNES, NES and NEAD. I personally use NEAD, which stands for "Non-epileptic attacks disorder", it comes under the bracket of Functional Neurological Disorders (FND) and is a chronic disorder that hardly anyone knows about. Even the NHS doesn't fully recognise it yet. Before you ask, it isn't epilepsy. Even though it looks like epilepsy, it is pretty harmless, there is nothing physically wrong. Instead of having the "fight or flight" response, my body randomly goes into a "freeze" state meaning that I have a variety of responses...

• I can go into a completely unconscious state
• I can have fits
• My breathing can go really shallow or really rapid
• I can be semi-conscious
• My "attacks" can last for anytime from 5 minutes to 6 hours
• I can get up, be fine and re-lapse
• I can recover instantly or it can take ages for me to recover
• Sometimes I can go about my day as if nothing has happened, other times I'm completely exhausted and want to sleep the rest of the day away
• I'm usually not "with it" enough to be able to think for myself
• It can happen anywhere at any time
• There is no cure and no reliable way of making attacks shorter

When I got my diagnoses, I was given a thin information pack and was told to live my life as if nothing had happened. Literally the only advice I received was "continue as normal". What I wasn't told was how much would change. When I started college, I decided to keep pursing my dreams of becoming a drama therapist, since I struggled with GCSE drama, I decided to take BTEC drama as it was significantly more practical and thus my forte. I also took A-level English literature and language combined, A-level Early Modern History and, since I failed maths, I had to re-take my GCSE. Within 4 months of starting my BTEC drama course, I was no longer deemed "well enough" to stay on the course, this feeling was mutual between myself and my college teachers who were worried that I wouldn't be able to complete the course in spite of my passion and work. So I dropped drama, which simultaneously crushed my "drama therapist" dreams and a part of myself. Drama was a major part of my life for so many years and I loved it with every once of my being, it was a passion I had pursued for 13 years and I felt, and still feel, like I lost a part of myself. 

Again, I had to find a new aspiration. One thing I haven't mentioned so far is that I have been a member of various creative writing clubs since middle school, I even wrote articles for both my middle school and college newspapers, and I always have a book on me. I spent most of my time in middle school and secondary school living in the library and I read whenever I get the chance. That being said, I majorly overlooked my passion for English for the longest time. As I got older, whilst my family kept their meritocratic ideals, to the extent that at 13 I was told that I was going to have to work hard and aspire to either pursue a degree or an apprenticeship. This meant that I had to pass my A-Levels if I wanted to achieve anything in life. They also started to increasingly put forward the idea that earning money is very, very important. This made it very awkward when I decided to put all career ideas on hold and focus on what degree I was going to enrol onto. 

When I first told my family that I was thinking of doing an English degree, they struggled
to get their head around the idea. I was basically telling them that I wanted to do a humanities degree with absolutely no idea of what career I wanted at the end of it and with no guarantee of a career in the first place. I was advised to be more realistic and find something which would enable me to make money. Me, being the person that I am, did the exact opposite. Whilst I buckled down and focused the vast majority of my energy into being 10x better at my A-levels than I was at GCSE, I also put more effort into my once "hobby" now "passion"- creative writing. 

Before I dropped Drama, I joined my college's creative writing and started performing my own work for once. I performed a poem I had written for the first time at a college "poetry café", it was absolutely terrifying and I loved it. I had to do more, so I signed up for an international poetry day celebration event in a nearby village, initially just to watch others perform but then someone invited me to perform a poem or two and the rest is history. Since then I have performed at 5 different venues and am currently, in spite of lockdown, considered to be a regular at 2 of them. So yes, even though I don't act anymore, I still perform. I'd be lying if I was saying it is smooth sailing, it isn't. I have stage fright in a way I never used to and there's always the risk of my NEAD playing up at a night (as it frequently does) and for a long time I loved it. Now I like it, I love seeing the amazing friends I've made at the night, but I think poetry will be a hobby, the spark may have gone and I may not enjoy it as much as I used to but I still enjoy it enough to want to keep doing it. I love the people I get to perform alongside and I wouldn't change it for the world. 

What has any of this got to do with anything? Well, when I started performing, I started focusing on improving my creative writing craft, connecting with others who care about writing and sending my work into the world. This combined with my grades helped my family support my theoretical choice of degree and thus my potential career options.

Alongside this willingness to perform, I went through a bit of trial and error. I failed my maths re-take again, having gotten caught up in the algorithm and I started an EPQ but dropped out after 2 weeks because it was too much for me to manage.

Then I had to start the process of applying for university and it was a fun nightmare. Yes, looking at courses and universities were so much fun, but knuckling down and specifying my degree as well as where I wanted to apply felt impossible. When I had my end of year review, I told the teacher that I was thinking about entering the teacher profession and asked if I should give up creative writing for either a teaching degree or a solid literature degree. He told me something along the lines of "don't give up creative writing, you'd be wasting your time teaching", even so I asked him about how he became a teacher and at the end of the meeting, he advised me to do a joint degree or a degree which included literature and creative writing. I was so confused at the time but I came to realise that he was half right.

I enrolled onto a few summer schools  in order to attempt to fix the problem (and because I'm that much of a geek that I love being in some form of education and hate the idea of leaving it) and I felt even more confused in spite of the glowing comments I received on the essays I produced. Heck, I switched a course on education for a humanities course and then chose to write a history essay instead of an English literature essay because I felt more inspired by an image of a 1960's sexist swimsuit advert than learning about a 16th century writer- none of this made any sense to me whatsoever. 

That same summer, frustration with my failed 2nd attempt at my maths GCSE in combination with family history of dyslexia and dyscalculia led to me having a 4 hour straight literacy and numeracy assessment and a few weeks later, a diagnosis of dyscalculia. Whilst any kind of diagnosis brings up all sorts of emotions, I felt relieved that my lack of ability with maths wasn't to do with lack of effort or interest and it gave me a sense of direction as it reaffirmed that humanities based subjects would be (mostly) a good fit for me. It also led to me making the decision to take up an AS level in Sociology in my final year of A-levels. 

My final decision about my degree came down to what could I not live without and what I couldn't imagine doing. In spite of how much I enjoyed sociology, I decided it was too number based for me to be able to handle it at degree level. I considered History briefly but then realised that I was happy researching it as a hobby. Ever since Drama was out of the picture, the only things I spent my time doing (other than studying) was essentially reading and writing. So I decided that I wanted to mostly read and applied to do English literature with creative writing at 5 universities. I was fortunate enough to have been given offers from everywhere I applied to and I made my final choices this year. I am beyond delighted with my degree choice, I am lucky enough to be fully supported in my pursuit and I wouldn't change my choice for the world. 

Seemingly once you make a decision, that's it, but no. I am still frequently asked what I want to do and for the longest time ever I have had absolutely no idea. I'm aware that lots of the careers in this field are difficult to enter and I'm aware that specialising in one career means loosing opportunities in others. So I've found myself, more recently, wondering if there is such thing as a realistic aspiration? And I've been wondering if I've been wasting my time searching for an ideal that just doesn't exist. I think that it's okay to enter into something and be unaware of the outcome, simultaneously the unknown drives me absolutely mad. 

So here I am, YET AGAIN, in my search for my white whale and just when I think I've reached the point where I can say "I just want to enjoy my degree, my career will find me whenever it wants to", I find the most intense spark I've ever found. Teaching. I'm currently doing teaching virtual work experience and the more I do, the more I love. Why that is, I don't yet know and to be honest, I'm not in a rush to know. I just know that I love it and that I want to do more of it and I'm willing to give it my best shot. Having various disorders and mental health issues may make it more of a battle or rather more difficult for me to enter the field, partly due to the system, partly due to stigma and partly due to the very real nature of my unique way of living, but pen in hand, I'm ready to rise to the challenge. There's that cliché saying, "when you know, you know" and I think it definitely applies here. I know that my degree choice is absolutely right for me and I know that the university I've chosen as my first choice is as right as my choice of college was. I don't know what the future will bring but no one really does, and I think it's okay not to know. 

So yes, I aspire to become a sixth form teacher but I'm also planning on keeping my options open, finishing this chapter of my studies, enjoying my summer as well as degree. Yes, I'm scared as hell about leaving college and living by myself for the first time, but fear (in this case) shows how much these things matter to me. I plan on working with my fear, giving it a hug and then showing it an alternative. I plan on living my life to the full, aspiring to explore all of my options, taking opportunities as they come, becoming friends with my confusion and my curiosity. Now I'm going to spend some time enjoying being a human who is ready, in spite of fear, to embrace the next chapter of whatever comes next. Whatever happens, I intend to live my best life. 

                                                                                    - Amello

I'm coming out- My relationship with "The Rainbow Curtain"

In November 2020 an economist writer, under the name of Charlemagne, coined the phrase "The Rainbow curtain" in order to show the divide between the rights that some LGBTQ+ people get and the rights that some don't have access to. The fact that the divide exists is beyond utterly outrageous and especially soul crushing when you consider how many other social groups it can be applied to. That being said, I think that the term can also be used to show the divide between what we are taught and what we learn or rather, what we think we know and what we discover, especially in regards to gender and sexuality. 

When I was younger I didn't know about the gender and sexuality spectrum, because it wasn't talked about or taught or mentioned in any way, shape or form. Whether that was due to where I came from or general social attitudes, I don't know. I suspect that it was mostly due to the fact that at that point in time, which admittedly wasn't all that long ago, the conversation just didn't come up. In spite of the fact I've been fortunate enough to have grown up in a liberal family, films, books and music all taught 5-13 year old me that "straight" was the only orientation in existence and gender had to fit into 1 of 2 boxes. This only really changed when I moved from a sea-side town to a rural, in-land village.

I first heard the word "transgender" in middle school. The first time I was asked about my "sexuality" was in secondary school and I had to ask my friend what it meant. I'm honestly so glad that I did because I ended up googling something along the lines of: "what sexuality are you if you're attracted to personality not gender?" 

I'm not even kidding, I'd never taken gender into account during that weird period as a kid where relationships are a fun game and the moment a boy and a girl hangs out, someone chants "Eva and John sitting in a tree K I S S I N G". Even in middle school when I'd been asked about various crushes, the very real stereotype of girl-talk, I had always responded with "*insert name* has a nice personality" or "I want to get to know so-and-so more".

 Anyway, after a few days of googling I came across the term "Pansexual" and I immediately thought "yeah, that pretty much sums it up", so I told my friend that I was Pan and she came out to me as "Gay" because she'd had lots of experience with "Lesbian" being used as a slur in her previous school. 

In fact, I didn't know that "coming out" was a thing until my friend asked me if my parents were going to be okay with it and I responded by saying "who wouldn't?"... and that's how I learned about "homophobia"... which lead to a strategy called "the traffic light system". Previously used in schools to describe how you thought you were doing in a subject, this strategy was now being used to help you decide if the time is right to come out to your parents or whoever you would like to come out to.

The traffic light system

Red- if you hear homophobic slurs, if they give you an indication that they are totally against it, if you know that they don't agree with it or they are just in a difficult mood, do not proceed!

Amber- if you are unsure, probe/bring up the topic in general terms- this should lead to the detection of a red or green light

Green- if you think that they will be alright with it, if they actively support the community or if they seem to be in a generally chill mood, go for it!

Truth be told, I completely ignored the system and went straight for it without much of a second thought. I told my mother that I was Pansexual, and explained what it meant, whilst she was cooking, she dropped the frying pan and burst out laughing and I did too. I'm not entirely sure if I ever came out to my stepdad, I think there was just an understanding that he knew and was chill with it. In fact, I really do consider myself to be very lucky considering some of the stories I've heard of all sorts of *insert gender or sexual orientation*phobia. Not to brag but I've only ever been to 2 pride parades, one year in Brighton and the year after in London, and both times I was actually in the parades. Yes, to clarify, I've never actually seen a pride parade but I've been in 2, supporting 2 different organisations and both times I participated alongside my parents. If that's not ideal parental support, I honestly don't know what is.

If you couldn't already tell, I've been out and proud to pretty much everyone since I was 14. That being said, in recent years things haven't been so straight forward...

Last February (2020), I went through a bit of an identity crisis or rather I was panicked because I'd never thought to question my gender. This completely ate me up, I am not kidding, I was completely disgusted with my appearance. I wanted to hide my chest and look less curvy and less feminine, to put it lightly. In short, I'd experienced what I understood later as "gender dysphoria"- the feeling of being in the wrong body- and I wanted to get rid of it ASAP. So I messaged a few friends about it and they taught me about "pronouns" and encouraged me to express myself however I wanted to. So that's exactly what I did. At the time I was on a mini-break in Stratford-upon-Avon, which meant that I had to get creative, so I used my allowance to buy one set of men's clothes from a few charity shops. The moment I got back to the hotel, I changed into them and hid my incredibly long hair (the longest I've grown it to date) under a beanie. It made me feel so much better, but something wasn't quite right. My chest was still apparent. Thankfully, the family member I was sharing a room with helped me make a temporary binder out of fabric and shoe laces and I went out to dinner feeling confident as heck. At least until I had to take the binder off and then I felt that horrific sinking, sick feeling all over again. 

A week or two later, one of the friends I had contacted about the whole "I'm questioning my gender" thing invited me to visit them in London to do a clothes swap as they had some clothes they wanted to get rid of and I had a small sack of clothes, which I had been meaning to extract from my wardrobe for quite some time. This meant that I was able to exchange a few of my clothes for a few more masculine bits and pieces that were in my size. I also decided to change my pronouns on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook and I asked a close-knit circle of friends to call me by my new pronouns. I even turned up at an open mic night dressed in my more masculine clothes. 

And then after that the whole "masculine" didn't feel comfortable or suit me anymore, so I reverted back to my old style and pronouns, which I still love and embrace to this day. My style wasn't generally considered to be overly feminine in the first place, rather somewhere in between i.e. colour coordinated outfits, t-shirts with slogans and pictures, trousers or shorts and leggings. For practical reasons- worthy of a separate post- I only generally wear skirts and dresses for events/special occasions. Basically, most of my friends describe my style as "indie and geeky", which I think describes it perfectly. In addition, I learned a ton more about feminism and currently consider myself to be a proud "intersectional feminist", I've even had the opportunity to speak at a women's day celebration, which was one of the few highlights of 2020.

So in a nutshell, what I'm trying to say is that even though this particular experience/memory/anecdote/call-it-what-you-like isn't one that I'm overly open about/have talked about much if at all, I'm not ashamed of it in any way whatsoever. I felt beyond uncomfortable, I experimented and then I re-discovered myself. There is absolutely nothing wrong with experimenting or questioning your gender, sexuality or identity and the stigma around this really needs to go. Heck, there's nothing wrong with changing your mind and changing it again and again. Heck, there is no time limit and there is no pressure to change either. Embrace each other, embrace yourself and embrace the beautiful uniqueness of the world.

Now I'd like to talk about Labels. A highly debated topic. It doesn't matter which side you are on, if you're somewhere in between or if this is your first time hearing about this- there really is no excuse to judge someone for their use of Labels or lack-thereof or lack of knowledge. Diversity in society is beyond awesome, let's embrace that or at the very, very least, not be assholes about it. 

Some people don't like labels, don't like to use them for various reasons, such as they don't want to be defined by them or they don't want their identity to be put back into a box. That's totally fine, I'm not judging at all, I honestly do respect that, labels can cause so many problems at times and no one should ever force you to use them! 

I, personally, choose to use them because I tend to find that it makes my life a bit easier. Most of the labels I use for myself are out of necessity or because they generally save lots of time. Basically, I could have had lots of different conversations in the time it takes for me to explain the same thing to multiple people. That being said, I would rather explain something than have someone make assumptions or guesses. As well as this, I tend to see labels as a way of embracing who I am or at the very least understanding myself better. A simple word to explain a concept for everyone (myself included) with the bonus, as previously mentioned, of being able to change them as, when and if any of us so choose. An attempt to make sense of things that, more often than not, don't make sense. 

All of that being said, since writing the original version of this post, things have changed. I decided to revert back to defining my sexuality as purely Pansexual since meeting someone who changed my life for the better.  Additionally, since going to university I've been significantly less open about my sexuality. Don't get me wrong, it's still important to me and I'll forever be talking about acceptance and inclusion, but I've decided to take the time to fully explore how I feel about my sexuality and expression of it. 

So to sum up: LGBTQ+ education is important and needs to be taught widely, things change, things change on your terms, there is no rush, it's okay to take time to explore things for yourself, your self expression and understanding of your sexuality is entirely your own experience and should never be invalidated. Labels are purely down to personal choice. 

I'll see you folks on the flip side.

- Amello

My year in books 2020

 It's officially the last day of the year. What a year it has been! 

So my 100 books in a year challenge has officially ended. Back in January 2019 I took on this challenge for the first time and by the end of the year I had read 60

•  2019 blog post linked here: My Year in books 2019

 As of attempt number 2 in the year 2020, I have read a total of 107 books!!! Meaning I have finally beaten my challenge!!!! If you couldn't already tell, writing a blog post about 60 books is hard let alone 107 and I'm a relatively opinionated person (shown by the fact I write a blog), especially when it comes to books: an essential part of my life. So below I've highlighted my favourites/the ones I think are seriously worth reading.

1.  George-Alex Gino
2. 101 pieces of me- Veronica Bennett
3.  Heartstopper: volume one- Alice Oseman

4. Rookie on Love- Tavi Gevinson

5. Jim Henson's The Storyteller: Giants- Conor Nolan

6. My lesbian experience with loneliness- Kabi Nagata

7. Sincerely- Carol Ann Duffy

8. Heartstopper: volume two- Alice Oseman

9. Through your blood- Toby Campion

10.  Fierce Femmes and Notorious liars- Kai Cheng Thom

11. The secret Loves of Geeks- Hope Nicholson

12. Solitaire- Alice Oseman

13. Poems to Fix a Fucked Up World- Various Poets

14. An Absolutely Remarkable Thing- Hank Green

15. Bone, volume 2: The Great Cow Race- Jeff Smith

16. Bone, Volume 3: The Eye of The Storm- Jeff Smith

17. Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic- Alison Bechdel

18. Surge- Jay Bernard

19. Listener- Lemin Sissay

20. Speak: The Graphic Novel- Laurie Halse Anderson

21. Love is love: A comic book anthology- Marc Andreyko

22. Parrotfish- Ellen Wittlinger

23. How To Write a Love Story- Katy Cannon

24. We Come Apart- Sarah Crossan and Brian Conaghan

25. Bloom- Kevin Panetta 

26. Adrian and the Tree of Secrets- Hubert, Marie Caillou and David Homel

27. Our dreams at dusk: Shimanami Tasogare volume 1- Yuhki Kamatani

28. Our dreams at dusk: Shimanami Tasogare volume 2- Yuhki Kamatani

29. Our dreams at dusk: Shimanami Tasogare volume 3- Yuhki Kamatani

30. Our dreams at dusk: Shimanami Tasogare volume 4- Yuhki Kamatani

31. Saving Montgommery Sole- Mariko Tamaki

32. Heartstopper: volume three- Alice Oseman

33. Through the Woods- Emily Carroll

34. Poemsia- Lang Leav

35. Weird things Customers say in Bookshops- Jen Campbell

36. Marxism and literary Criticism- Terry Eagleton

37. Feminists don't wear pink (and other lies): Amazing women on what the F-word means to them- Scarlett Curtis

38. Diary of a Confused Feminist- Kate Weston

39. Vox- Christina Dalcher

40. The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue- Mackenzi Lee

41. Death of the suburb- Simon Zec

42. The Patchwork Carnival- Liam Smith

43. Diary of a Somebody- Brian Bilston

44. To Kill a Mockingbird- Harper Lee

45. Alice (The Chronicles of Alice, #1)- Christina Henry

46. Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe- Benjamin Alire Saenz

47. It's kind of a funny story- Ned Vizzini

48. The Perks of being a Wallflower- Stephen Chbosky

49. Waiting for Godot- Samuel Beckett

50. Alice by Heart- Steven Sater

51. Red Queen (The Chronicles of Alice #2)- Christina Henry

52. Looking Glass- Christina Henry

53. Pretending- Holly Bourne

54. Lord of the flies- William Golding

55. Am I normal yet? (The Spinster club #1)- Holly Bourne

56. Say, Say, Say- Lila Savage

57. My Brother's Name is Jessica- John Boyne

58. The Hidden Power of Fucking up- Keith Habersberger, Zach Kornfeild, Eugene Lee Yang, Ned Fulmer

59. Jack of Hearts (and other parts)- Lev A.C. Rosen

60. The Prom- Saundra Mitchell

61. Q- Christina Dalcher

62. A Good Girl's Guide to Murder- Holly Jackson

63. Overshare: Love, Laughs, Sexuality and Secrets- Rose Ellen Dix and Rosie Spaughton

64. Wonderland- Juno Dawson

65. The Gravity of Us- Phil Stamper

66. Attachments- Rainbow Rowell

67. Surviving me- Jo Johnson

68. Flowers for Algernon- Daniel Keyes 

69. The Colour Purple- Alice Walker

70. The Meaning of Birds- Jayne Robin Brown 

71. Hyperbole and a half: Unfortunate situations, flawed coping mechanisms, mayhem and other things that happened- Allie Brosh

72. The Bell Jar- Sylvia Plath

73. Farenheit 451- Ray Bradbury

74. The Testaments- Margaret Atwood

75. This is going to hurt: Secret diaries of a junior doctor- Adam Kay

76. A Beautifully Foolish Endeavour- Hank Green

77. Heartstream- Tom Pollock

78. Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear- Elizabeth Gilbert

79. The Picture of Dorian Grey- Oscar Wilde

80. Blue is the Warmest Colour- Julie Maroh

81. How to Build a Girl- Catlin Moran

82. Literary Theory: A Very Short Introduction- Jonathan D.Culler

83. Queenie- Candice Carty-Williams

84. Extraordinary Means- Robyn Schneider

85. Not Working- Lisa Owens

86. Wuthering Heights- Emily Bronte

87. The City in the Middle of the Night- Charlie Jane Anders

88. The Book of Awesome Women: Boundary Breakers, Freedom Fighters, Sheroes and Female Firsts- Becca Anderson

89. Journey to the Centre of the Earth- Jules Verne

90. So Bright and Delicate: Love Letters and Poems of John Keats to Fanny Brawne

91. The Price Guide to the Occult- Leslye Walton

92. Alice in the Country of Hearts, Volume 1- QuinRose

93. Wicked: The life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West- Gregory Maguire

94. Notes on a Nervous Planet- Matt Haig

95. The Midnight Library- Matt Haig

96. Women don't owe you pretty- Florence Given

97. The Starless Sea- Erin Morgenstern

98. An Astronaut's Guide to Life on Earth- Chris Hadfield 

99. Some kids I taught and what they taught me- Kate Clanchy

100. Reasons to stay alive- Matt Haig

101. Frankisstein- Jeanette Winterson

102. The inland sea- Madeleine Watts

103. Mooncop- Tom Gauld

104. The Great Gatsby graphic novel

105. Chasers of the light: poems from the typewriter series- Tyler Knott Gregson

106. Twas the nightshift before Christmas- Adam Kay

107. Brave new world- Aldous Huxley

With all that said, its time to announce my 2021 challenge... the backlog challenge. Not to brag, but I have somehow ended up with 4 table-height stacks of unread books and I have a limited amount of time to read them since I'm planning on continuing my studies elsewhere in September. This challenge is basically to read through your entire backlog of unread books, usually by the end of the year. I'm going to try and hit this goal by the beginning of August. 

Ambitious? Yes

Achievable? who knows?

Hotel? Trivago

On that note, I would like to say Goodbye (at last) to 2020 and I'll see you folks later, in the New Year

     - Amello