"Your feelings are completely valid."

"Did your dad ever tell you to play a different instrument?"

He said it casually, glancing at the large double bass resting like a faithful bloodhound beneath my feet. 

I was so shocked and irritated that I had no reply. Why do I need to play a different instrument? Why do I need my dad's approval? 

What stuck with me wasn't just what he said. It was what my dad, my then-boyfriend, and his father said to me. 

"You're overreacting." 

"He's just trying to be friendly." 

"It's not that big a deal." 

Anytime I mentioned in front of that boyfriend, he would get angry and say, "You're still upset about that? Just let it go." I stopped talking about it with him. I stopped mentioning it to anyone, but the comment lingered in the back of my brain every time I went out to a gig with my bass.

What also stuck with me was the complete relief when I finally felt safe enough to bring it up with one of my professors. When she heard it, all she said was, "Your feelings are completely valid. What that man said was wrong, and he shouldn't have said it." 

There was no argument. No trying to explain. Just complete acceptance and understanding.

"Don't you have any other friends?!"

When I was little, I was extremely socially awkward and anxious. I had one friend who I spent all of my time with. She was also really socially awkward and shy, and looking back now, I realize that we probably used each other as a security blanket, allowing us to brave the terrifying abyss of kids on the playground. Simply having her by my side gave me a huge amount of comfort and peace, and I'm sure I did the same for her.

One day in fourth grade, we were on the playground together, and someone came up to us and said in a confident and booming voice, for the whole school to hear, "You two are together all the time! Don't you have any other friends?!" 

We both felt embarrassed and ashamed, and didn't know how to respond. I don't think we even said anything back. 

Those words would have stung no matter what, but they were extra hurtful because they were coming from our teacher. A teacher who was beloved and celebrated by everyone. 

He died a few years ago, and the whole community was devastated. 

I was only moderately devastated.

"You could be a famous novelist."

When I was in middle school, we had to read 25 books and write reports on them in order to earn our spot on a class trip at the end of the school year.

I was writing my own book in my free time, and I was really into it. I asked my teacher if it would be okay for me to submit pages from my original book instead of book reports on other books.

Instead of shutting me down and acting like it was just a stupid little project, she encouraged my creativity and let me share the pages with her instead of doing the book reports. She would read them with complete sincerity and respect, and then provide me with thoughtful and constructive comments. 

One time she told me, "You could be a famous novelist."

It is because of her encouragement that I have always felt confident pursuing creative passions, even when they're against what everyone else is doing.

Expectation.

My husband left me when I was in my first year of graduate school.

I had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder years before that, and I was so heartbroken that I knew I was going to break the f*** down, I knew I couldn't make it as an academic, that a PhD program was no place for my broken ass.

I tried to tell my adviser that I was going to drop out. He just looked at me confusedly and said "No you won't. You can take time off to rest and heal some if you need, and everything will be right here when you're feeling well again."

WHEN you are feeling well again. Not IF. 

With a mental illness/disability label attached to your identity, the expectation is that you will suffer and be less capable as others of both enjoying life and thriving in it. This expectation may be realistic and may be supported by diagnostic criteria or your own past experience.

But when the world has low expectations for you, you can end up with low expectations for yourself, and therefore meet those expectations.

He expected me to surmount what I was facing, and I will never forget the strength that gave me.

Challenge the holes your identity categories have pigeoned you into.