{"id":4503,"date":"2023-11-10T14:12:47","date_gmt":"2023-11-10T12:12:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/equality.agency\/changes-come-from-within-blog-2-colorful-diversities\/"},"modified":"2023-11-10T14:12:47","modified_gmt":"2023-11-10T12:12:47","slug":"changes-come-from-within-blog-2-colorful-diversities","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/equality.agency\/en\/changes-come-from-within-blog-2-colorful-diversities\/","title":{"rendered":"Changes Come from Within \/ Blog 2 – Colorful Diversities"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
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\"Poor girl, what will she live for now? What will she do? How will she work? Be careful, this could lead to a lifetime of depression.\" These were the words that greeted Nevena the next morning.<\/h2>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t
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It didn’t happen often, but occasionally, such dreams would sneak into her dreams at night. The voices belonged to family members and former friends expressing their concerns after the accident, without considering how those words might be received from the other side. <\/p>\n

Nevena opened her eyes, her body covered with cold beads of sweat brought on by restlessness and spasms. She immediately reached for the box of antispasmodics on the nightstand beside her bed. Slowly, she sat up, leaning her back against the pillow, and swallowed two pills with a glass of water. Closing her eyes, she felt the bitter remnants linger in her throat, a mix of the medication and the prejudices she had once swallowed. Taking deep breaths, she focused her energy on the day ahead. Her thoughts turned to Iris and their planned coffee later.<\/p>\n

‘It will be a good day,’ she reassured herself, though her mind was still clouded from the restless night. Perhaps what she told herself was an effort at self-convincing.<\/p>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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With a burst of energy, her mother Donna entered the room.<\/p>\n

“Ah, you’re already awake. Come on, what would you like me to prepare for breakfast?” She carried on speaking, her lively voice resonating throughout the rooms, until Nevena interrupted her, just as she was about to begin her morning yoga and meditation.<\/p>\n

Recognizing that not everyone was in the mood for small talk so early, her mother left the room. <\/p>\n

Donna was always lively, not just in the morning. Since Nevena’s accident, her mother had made it her mission to fill their home with laughter and conversation – if she couldn’t control what happened outside her home, she could at least create a warm environment inside. After half an hour, she returned to assist Nevena in choosing her clothes and finishing up the morning tasks. They then sat down together for breakfast.<\/p>\n

“Where are you off to?” Donna asked, surprised as she hadn’t been informed of her daughter’s plans beforehand.<\/p>\n

“I’m meeting Iris for coffee, this girl I met yesterday. She’s got this energy about her that really resonates with me. It’s hard to put into words. It’s like something has been lit inside me, mom. I want to get out more, to meet people. Maybe it’s time to pick up drawing again.”<\/p>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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It was true. After the accident, drawing became a challenge for her. It felt like she was a little girl and that someone had taken her crayons away. \n<\/h5>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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“I know, sweetheart,” Donna replied, her voice carrying a sense of concern. “No matter what you choose, no matter what comes your way, I’m here. Just promise me that you will be careful, alright?”<\/p>\n

Nevena simply nodded, understanding that no further words were needed. She finished her breakfast swiftly and headed out. Donna, though accustomed to Nevena handling most things on her own, felt a piece of her heart leave with her every time she stepped out the door. She was aware that Nevena’s spirit couldn’t be easily subdued, and it was only a matter of time before her creativity would flourish once again. <\/p>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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Nevena got to the elevator and noticed that it was filled with people, leading to that familiar, slightly awkward situation where several individuals had to exit to accommodate her. Such moments were far from pleasant. She never quite got used to depending on others. The irony never failed to amuse her. \n<\/h5>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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She entered inside. As the elevator descended, memories flooded back of the day they moved into the building. Several weeks after the accidents, Nevena and her family were forced to leave the building. It was neither suitable for a person in a wheelchair, with stairs at the entrance, nor was the elevator reliably operational. <\/p>\n

Nevena lived close to the bookstore where she first met Iris, so she didn\u2019t need to use a taxi or bus. <\/p>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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She usually avoided them; broken ramps and untrained drivers trying to help were not her favorite things, especially in the morning.<\/p>\n

As she descended out of the building onto the sidewalk, she suddenly hit a rough patch with the wheel getting stuck in the cobblestones, almost onto the road. She took a moment to steady herself and carefully backed up the wheelchair. After a few tense minutes, she managed to free the wheel and continued on his way.<\/p>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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'One of these days, I'll end up with a broken arm from these uneven roads,' she mumbled to himself. <\/h5>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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When she arrived, Iris was already seated at the same table as last time. She got up from her chair when she saw her and went to hug her. <\/p>\n

‘Hello!’ She exclaimed, her excitement visible to every person in the cafe.<\/p>\n

‘Hello, darling. Sorry I’m late, I got my wheel stuck on the cobblestones.’ <\/p>\n

‘Are you okay? Did you get hurt?’ – Iris asked, worried. <\/p>\n

‘No, no. It happens sometimes, that’s how our streets are. I\u2019m okay.”<\/p>\n

‘Come on, I’ve saved a seat for you,’ Iris said, pointing to the empty space next to her chair. <\/p>\n

Nevena immediately noticed that Iris’ eyes were shining with excitement, and so was her body language; she couldn\u2019t stop fidgeting, her leg tapping up and down. <\/p>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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\u2018I’ve got some exciting news – you won’t believe it, but right after our conversation, I stumbled upon something amazing. See how much luck you bring into my life!” Iris exclaimed, gazing at her phone screen.<\/p>\n

Nevena burst into laughter. “Alright, spill the beans. What’s the big news?”<\/p>\n

“A friend invited me to this event, an inclusion festival. It’s going to have workshops, exhibitions, debates, music… you name it!” <\/p>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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\"An inclusion festival?\u201d Nevena asked with genuine interest. \"Funny enough, I was just telling my mom that I want to get out more and meet new people.\"<\/h5>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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“You know, Iris, you might be the first person in a long while who’s invited me to an event not out of obligation, but because you genuinely want me there. Usually, people don’t even bring it up, probably unsure of how I’d react or if I could participate. Maybe they think I’m just counting down the days, not really doing anything. I’m not upset with them; I understand they might be uncertain about what to say or do. I just wish we could all be more open with each other. Let’s build trust. Dealing with ignorance is simple; they can just ask me. They shouldn’t shy away from situations that might be awkward. It’s not always the most convenient for me either. But that’s the real issue here. We’re not used to just talking openly. People don’t expect much from me, even though I know I can do so much more. So, thank you. I deeply appreciate it.\u201d She looked up at the colorful ceiling, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. It was like the weight she’d been carrying was already starting to lift.<\/p>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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Nevena noticed tears glistening in Iris' eyes. She hadn't anticipated such a heartfelt response. The sincerity of it all struck her, highlighting how even small gestures can carry profound meaning. \"I'm not sure what to say. This caught me off guard... Thank you. You're showing me so much, a whole new world I wasn't aware of.\"<\/h5>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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Iris locked eyes with her and said “Let’s go. In the end, we’re all just part of one big story. I want mine to be interesting.”<\/p>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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\u0410\u0432\u0442\u043e\u0440 \u043d\u0430 \u0431\u043b\u043e\u0433 - \u0441\u0435\u0440\u0438\u0458\u0430\u043b\u043e\u0442 \u201e\u0428\u0430\u0440\u0435\u043d\u0438 \u0440\u0430\u0437\u043b\u0438\u0447\u043d\u043e\u0441\u0442\u0438\u201c<\/p>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\r\n\t\t<\/div>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

“Poor girl, what will she live for now? What will she do? How will she work? Be careful, this could lead to a lifetime of depression.” These were the words that greeted Nevena the next morning.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":3800,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_bbp_topic_count":0,"_bbp_reply_count":0,"_bbp_total_topic_count":0,"_bbp_total_reply_count":0,"_bbp_voice_count":0,"_bbp_anonymous_reply_count":0,"_bbp_topic_count_hidden":0,"_bbp_reply_count_hidden":0,"_bbp_forum_subforum_count":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[42],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4503","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"blocksy_meta":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/equality.agency\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4503","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/equality.agency\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/equality.agency\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/equality.agency\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/equality.agency\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4503"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/equality.agency\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4503\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4504,"href":"https:\/\/equality.agency\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4503\/revisions\/4504"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/equality.agency\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3800"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/equality.agency\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4503"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/equality.agency\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4503"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/equality.agency\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4503"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}