Spinning in Circles and Learning from Myself: A Collection of Stories That Slowly Grow Up

By Tsara Shelton

Written from a life lived on the edge of society, Spinning in Circles and Learning from Myself, by author Tsara Shelton, offers an insightful and powerfully uplifting collection of ideas and stories. She shares writings on a range of subjects spanning several stages of her life with topics including womens issues, marriage, prejudice, abuse, mixed-race relationships, equality, culture, and more.

Sheltona mother of fouropens up about the difficult elements in her past, but offers a positive, realistic perspective on those events. As the oldest of eight children, she discusses in detail her childhood in Toronto, Ontario, and how she learned to live thanks to her brothers and her motherall on the autism spectrum. Shelton reveals how she dealt with being a pregnant teenager and how her beliefs help guide her parenting.

As Shelton progresses through lifes stages of growing up, she shares the importance and validity of each stage, always with an eye for answers and an infectious joy in the never ending journey that is growing up.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Mar 18, 2015
• ISBN: 9781480815827

Tsara Shelton

Tsara Shelton is a writer of musings, sipper of coffee, and addict of anything story. Having learned life exploring the edges of society, through storytelling she finds her footing in the world—as a mom, wife, daughter, and citizen. Shelton, her husband, and their four children live in both Texas and California.

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Copyright © 2015 Tsara Shelton.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Archway Publishing

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4808-1581-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-1582-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015903056

Archway Publishing rev. date: 3/16/2015

Contents

Dedication

Yea

Introduction

Part One: Crawling/Infant

Taking Advantage of an Eager Audience

The Editor in Me

I Have Low Self-Esteem and My Elbow Hurts

On Finding My Fraud

They Didn’t Like My Kind Around Here

He Said, She Said

The Dead Cow

Creating a Culture: Validity of the Everybody’s Doing It Argument

Us. With Less Leg.

Being Me

Yea

My Texas Body and My California Body: Different but Equal

Co-Parenting with Marg Simpson

Part Two: Walking/Adolescent

Because My Mom Was Autistic, Our Answer Was Autism

The Rape of My Son’s Girlfriend: A Phone Number on an Index Card

The Importance of Personal Semantics; My Silly Little Example

Bi-Sexual and Dating, My Mom Had a Type

The Day I Met My Husband—An Unromantic Romance

Spinning in Circles and Learning From Myself

My American Dream

I Ran Away, and There I Was

Dear Poverty: It’s not you, it’s me.

My Son: The Intense One

What I Was Thinking When I Raped You

Death Dreams and Desperation of a Young Mom

This Morning I Let His Dad Do It

Teach a Man to Fish and it Feeds Your Soul

Letting Go: The Hardest Important Thing You Must Do as a Parent

Coffee, Mom, and Me

Part Three: Running/Adult

The Greatness of Graduation

Slow Down, My Brother Is Talking

You See, to me, it’s all About Value

What He’s Given Me, and What I Strive to Give Him

The Writer and The Mechanic ~ A Short Story

Safety vs Freedom

Addicted to Seeing

Growing Older and Choosing Action in The New Year

I Forgot

Better than Me ~ A Short Story

My Autistic Brothers Taught Me Empathy

The Flaws and Hopes of an (Extra)Ordinary Family

This Moment

But Then, it’s Easy for Me

The Picture You Choose and the One That Chooses You

A Beautiful Story

To Try ~ A Short Story

Acknowledgments

Guidance

Dedication

Jory, Tyran, Shay, and Declyn

Forever my reasons.

I am a mother. I see clearly that while I’ve been teaching them, they have been my reason to learn.

~Tsara Shelton

Yea

By: Lynette Louise (The Brain Broad)

My reflection’s in the mirror,

I see the sparkle in my eye.

I cry, I laugh, I sing out loud;

I hold my head up high!

The difference is apparent,

Anyone can see.

I’ve found a friend from deep within;

And world, that friend is me!

Introduction

My sons and I moved recently. Packing and purging fifteen years’ worth of torn clothing, favorite toys, movies and music, old homework assignments and random notes to ourselves, is exhausting. Emotionally and physically.

It’s a good kind of exhausting if you encourage it to be.

Fifteen years of our growing up was experienced in that house in the woods. Rummaging through overstuffed drawers, and crawling to the backs of forgotten closet space, has a way of inviting time travel, and strange mixed up memories.

Who my sons and I are now is vastly different from who we were when we began tossing army man toys under the couch, yet we all remain eerily unchanged. It’s fun, this packing and purging of ourselves. It’s fun, and it’s revealing.

I discovered a box of old keepsakes; they were from my teenage years. I am not a teenager anymore, but my four sons are. I found many treasures in the me that is who they are now.

I was also slapped in the face with surprise. I could hardly recognize myself in the journals! I remember the events I was writing about—pregnant at eighteen with a fiancé who wouldn’t commit—but I didn’t recall feeling the things my words revealed. Yet, as I read on, I felt them. And they were familiar.

"I refuse to get out of bed. I’m stuck there wondering where my fiancé is, how he’s feeling and if I’ll ever hear from him again. Every time the phone rings now I almost die and I’m so depressed and lost I hate myself.

I force my eighteen year old body out of bed with the slow, painful pace of a ninety year old. My brothers are playing just outside my door and part of me feels joy. How lovely to wake up to the sound of children playing, innocent laughter. That same part of me reaches to touch the child that grows in me, anticipating the day that I wake up and he or she is playing just outside my bedroom door. That same part of me smiles."

I read these words in my journal and felt everything at once; how I’ve changed, how I’m the same, and how my children have always been my everything.

As we moved our belongings into our next home for building memories and growing up, I caught myself being almost obsessed with a desire to hold onto the old and run with wild abandon into the new. I want it all!

I love stories, and I love growing up. I love learning the same lessons over and over with more intention and a wider vision. I love looking at the world I existed in, and valuing its role in helping me build the world I’ve created.

It’s important to tell your story, now. Not when you are good at it, not after you’ve lived it; now.

But it’s also important to know that there is genuine value in exploring and discovering the art of intentional storytelling along the way. Begin now, but learn and grow and enhance for the later.

This book is my gift to now.

I’m planning, twenty years in the future, to read it and shake my head in wonder and surprise. "Who did I think I was? Why would I include that story?" I’ll wonder with a knowing (possibly toothless) grin. Then I’ll poor a cup of shade grown fair trade organic coffee—despite my sons ganging up on me and suggesting that I slow down the intake—and work on my follow-up book. A Collection of Stories that Quickly Grow Wise.

That one might be a gift to me.

Part One: Crawling/Infant

These stories are trying to get somewhere; they’re curious with no real expectations. Admittedly they are a little afraid, hoping strongly to impress. Yet, they are also free to explore. Uninterested in the rules or socially accepted presentation, they offer unsupported views and poorly executed sentence structure. But with an organic and honest voice.

These are the articles, posts, and stories I wrote when my sons were still small and my consistent encouraging of them, along with my incessant, Follow your dreams and discover your passions, rants, began to seep into my own soul.

I was a bit of a hypocrite, and I knew it. That’s what I’m getting at!

And so I crawled. I began by answering questions online, deciding that it would be easiest for me to find an audience if they were already asking to play the game of idea sharing. Also, it helped me focus and decide exactly what I wanted to say. Soon, encouraged by the comfortable and appreciative responses to my teetering answers, I also wrote posts for parenting and autism websites. I even entered an essay contest! I didn’t win, but I pulled myself up and risked falling down. Which was truly all I’d been asking of my sons anyway, and so I was proud.

Please enjoy my baby steps.

Taking Advantage of an Eager Audience

The Basic Question

My girlfriend and I are going to have a mixed-race baby. Is this our first mistake as parents? I know life can be harder for mixed race people, and I worry that we’ll feel less connected to our child because we’ll be different colors.

My Answer

My husband is black, and I am white. When we met I was a single mother with three kids, two of whom were half Arabic and one of whom was the poster child for Caucasians. Together my husband and I have had a child adding another color to the mix. There is no question that we receive strange looks often, and that the children ask questions that I sometimes wonder if children should be put in the position to ask - but mostly it is a blessing. Especially when you realize that life is about asking questions and facing challenges. It has been a gift - an opportunity for so many learning’s and I wouldn’t change it for the world. As for whether or not I feel less connected to my children - absolutely not! They are my loves and my own, although every once in a while I will walk by our reflection in a window or mirror and giggle. We really look more like an ad for diversity than a typical family. How wonderful!

The Basic Question

I think my child is involved in an abusive relationship. What should I do?

My Answer

It depends. Do you think your child is the abusive one or the victim? My mom was quite worried about me when I was dating an abusive boy during ninth grade. I think she handled it beautifully. She gave me a fair amount of freedom while at the same time speaking openly with me about her feelings on my relationship. She was careful and didn’t talk too badly about my boyfriend but focused more on how I was behaving. We fought, of course, and I was very defensive, but inside I knew she was right. And I actually felt comfort at having her in my corner. That is how I had the courage to finally leave him.

That was almost twenty years ago and now that I have a teenager (two actually) of my own I am so impressed with the patience she showed in her dealings with me. Sometimes as a mom I feel like the guidance I give should work faster, but most often our best work is done over time. I went out with my boyfriend for one year before I ended it. But much was learned in that year and sometimes I’m even glad it happened because I know too many adults who are dealing with the kind of relationships I learned so much from years ago. If, however, you fear your child is the abuser….I would love to hear any thoughts people may have on that subject. I often have wondered how my old boyfriend’s mom felt at that time. How difficult that must have been for her. My mom would plead with her to do something about her son, but what did she expect? I guess this is where being a model for our children comes in. Wow, there is so much to think about when you are a parent!

The Basic Question

Is there such a thing as a bad seed? My cousin is a really mean kid most of the time, but sometimes he does the nicest things too. He says prejudiced things and calls people names and pushes people around, but sometimes he’ll be the one who cares enough to make everyone a sandwich or share his pillow with his little sister.

My Answer

Wow! Sounds an awful lot like my thirteen year old. He can be the most intuitive and wonderful person at times. The way he is with my young nieces is beautiful, and I often wish his brothers would learn from him in this regard. (I have four boys.) But there is an anger in him that I don’t see in any of my other children. Like your cousin, he seems comfortable categorizing people. Calling them fat, gay or emo. He also likes to stereotype in terms of color or religion. We talk about it often and he, not surprisingly, does not get my concern. The more I think about it, however, the more I believe that his personality is not mean spirited. Rather he sees things as black and white, fair or unfair, and it’s easier for him to look at the world when everything is put in its place. For the most part he doesn’t judge things as bad or good but needs to label in order to navigate his world. I don’t think anyone is naturally mean or nasty. Instead I think some people see the world so differently than those around them that they get treated as inherently wrong. Then, all the fear and self-doubt that is created from being misunderstood festers and becomes something else. Something unlikable or even dangerous. I think if your cousin gets lots of praise when he makes sandwiches and shares his pillow and is mostly ignored when being cruel, he can be guided to a place where he feels comfortable looking at his