Making Sense of What I Wasn't Told
Where This Leaves Me
The CP Diary will be 16 years old in May and for the first time I feel almost healed. It's a strange sentence to write, because my conscious hasn't caught up with how my unconscious sees it.
But something has shifted. Not suddenly, and not in a dramatic before-and-after way. It's more like things that used to be loud are now quieter. Things that used to take over don’t have the same grip.
It’s not gone exactly – but it is different enough to notice.
My conscious is still thinking about it because it knows I’ve spent so long understanding myself through one lens that even though the reality has changed, the interpretation hasn’t.
Learning about yourself for the first time as an adult is very late. It doesn’t unlearn overnight.
There’s still a small dissonance between having been left to fumble around in the dark, and where that understanding leaves me on the other side of working it all out.
It doesn't feel like the end. It has spanned too many decades for me to simply 'walk on by.'
I've gone from living in ignorance, to a diagnosis, to finding everything out that I should have known – and now I sit in disbelief. I understand it now, even if part of me still can’t quite believe it. I'm living with the full weight of something I can finally see.
Without an acknowledgement, or acceptance – I’m beginning to see that closing that gap may take a little longer. Through early complications and everything that followed, I see it more clearly now.
Its official title I later learned is Mild Cerebral Palsy Hemiparesis – not what I originally thought. Nothing is fixed because I am not able to live a normal life.
Mental and emotional healing isn’t just about the adjustment, it’s about recognising it, and allowing yourself to live from that place, even if your conscious is still catching up.
Now it has to be more about learning how to be someone who doesn’t need to carry it in the same way anymore, and that will take a little while.
I don’t feel like I need answers in the way I once did. But I do feel the absence of something else – an acknowledgement that never really came.
Not to change anything, and not to rewrite the past. Just to recognise that it was there, that it mattered, and that I wasn’t imagining it.
Maybe that’s part of what comes next – not understanding it any more than I already do, but allowing it to be seen outside of me, so I don’t have to hold it on my own.
About the Author
Ilana Estelle is an author and writer, and the founder of The CP Diary. Born with something she didn’t know she had, later learning it was cerebral palsy, and then ten years after – also being diagnosed with autism, she has turned personal adversity into a powerful platform for awareness, reflection, and change. Through her writing, Ilana inspires readers to explore resilience, mindfulness, and what it means to live authentically, no matter the challenges.
Looking for inspiration and honest reflection? Visit The CP Diary for daily insights. To explore Ilana’s books and resources, head to her author page and discover how her journey can support your own.
To check out her site please follow the link: https://www.thecpdiary.com
