Did you know that the Welsh word for birthday directly translates as “end of year” and not the “day of birth?”
Why did I have to be born? Don’t get me wrong, I have less self-pity in that question than you may imagine.
Okay, so maybe I should rephrase the question: “Why did I/MYSELF/ME have to be born and not other version?”
Just imagine: there were plenty of ‘Me’s out there… or rather in various different combination of the gametes so kindly donated by my parents anyway (thanks mum and dad… <awkward pause>).
There is a dimension out there where a different egg-cell was fertilised by the sperm-cell gamete which helped make the “Me” writing this; or perhaps the opposite happened – the “Me” egg was fertilised by a completely different sperm cell this time round.
Thus a different zygote-ME would have been formed!
What differences would there be to me as a person? How would these differences manifest Physiologically, or Psychologically? How tall would I be? Would I still need glasses? Would I like Marmite? (LOL – we’re getting ridiculously far-fetched here…)
Would I still be Lady Asperga/an Aspergerette?
This blog is my attempt at exploration of some of these questions; it will touch on my experiences and the experiences of those around me, if they should be willing to help me. It will be (and is!) an ongoing process in which I will try to make sense of things ranging from different contracts (eye-contact, or social contact) to perhaps the more in-depth and personal (sexuality and sensory processing).
