I’m Not Broken—I'm Proof That We Belong to Each Other

I am living proof that we were never meant to do life alone.

Because if you look closely—really look—you’ll start to notice something:
All the things the world often labels as “deficient”…
are often the very things that make a person essential in a community.

I have ADHD. I have Dyslexia.
I can do the hardest part of a project—birth the idea, map the system, ignite the spark.
But then I’ll forget the chocolate melting on the stove.
I’ll leave the laundry sitting in the machine for three days.
The “easy stuff”? Sometimes it paralyzes me.

But what if that’s not a flaw?
What if it’s just a signpost?
A sacred reminder that I was never supposed to do this alone?

We are each pieces of a larger puzzle.
And the piece that doesn’t make sense on its own always finds meaning in the whole.

Think about it…

The person who thrives in solitude? That’s the watcher. The shepherd.
The one who sees what the group misses because they’re looking from the edge.
The person who stays up all night while others sleep? That’s the guardian.
The timekeeper. The star-watcher.
The neurodivergent mind that jumps from pattern to pattern, skipping the middle step?
That’s the innovator. The builder. The bridge.

What the world calls “disorder”…
I call design.

Not designed to fit a system—
but designed to reveal a new way of living.

A together way of living.

Because what if—just what if—I can do something you can’t do,
and you can do something I can’t do,
and instead of judging or competing,
we simply show up for each other?

What if our differences are not divisions, but instructions?

What if our messiness is medicine when placed in the right container?

That container is community.

That’s how we’re supposed to live:
Not as isolated individuals chasing independence,
but as woven lives, leaning, lifting, completing the whole.

And here’s something else I’ve come to know:

A hard conversation with someone you love should not push you apart—it should pull you closer.

If we are afraid to talk about our needs, our wiring, our exhaustion, our truth…
then what kind of closeness are we building?

If you love someone, and they love you—
you should be able to say:
“This is how I’m built. This is where I struggle. This is where I shine.”
And that truth? That truth should deepen your bond.

We are not meant to hide our wiring.
We are meant to be witnessed.
To be surrounded by people who say:

“I’ve got that part. You just do you.”

🌺 To anyone feeling like the world wasn’t built with you in mind—maybe it wasn’t. But that doesn’t make you wrong. It makes you needed.

You are not broken.
You are not too much.
You are not lazy.
You are a message. A mirror. A missing piece.

And we belong to each other.

With love and clarity,
Elizabeth Iember

✨ Reflective Prompt for the Communal Soul:

1. What part of me have I been judging because it doesn’t “fit”? What if it’s sacred?

2. Who in my life can do something I struggle with—and how can I invite support, not shame?

3. What would change if I stopped trying to be everything, and let myself be something—fully?