I was looking through some old photos recently when I came across this one of my son Nathan. It brought back so many memories—some that made me smile and others that reminded me just how much I have grown as a mother, an advocate, and a person.

Nathan was nine months old when he was diagnosed with cerebral palsy while we were living in Jamaica. At the time, I didn’t fully understand what that meant for his future or mine. I just knew I was about to enter a world I had never been prepared for.

This picture was taken when he was five, during a trip to Bakersfield, California, USA. At the time, I was exhausted, still searching for answers and trying to “fix” what I thought was broken.

Looking at this picture now, I see things differently. I see joy, resilience, and a little boy full of life, completely unaware of the worries I carried.

Today, I am grateful. I am grateful for our journey, for how far we’ve come, and for all the lessons that have shaped me into the mother and advocate I am today.

If there is one thing I know for sure, it’s this: a diagnosis is not meant to break us—it is meant to bring out the strength, resilience, and purpose in our lives.

The Journey to Bakersfield: A Mama Bear on a Mission

At that time, I heard about the M.O.V.E. (Mobility Opportunity Via Education and Experience) Program in Bakersfield, California. I was frustrated because, living in Jamaica, we did not have access to the adaptive equipment Nathan needed—specialized wheelchairs, seating, and bathing equipment were either unavailable. 

When I learned that the M.O.V.E. Program was designed to teach parents, caregivers, and professionals how to use everyday furniture to help children with mobility disabilities develop skills like independent sitting, I knew I had to find a way to get there. So, I fundraised for the trip in true special needs Mama Bear style. 

After a grueling 36-hour journey that included plane rides, a wheelchair dismantled by ramp agents who couldn’t reassemble it upon arrival, and a six-hour Greyhound bus ride, we finally arrived in Bakersfield, California. The two adults (my sister Jennifer accompanied us) were exhausted, dehydrated, and drained, but Nathan was ready to go!

Shopping, and a Boy Who Knew What He Wanted

For the first two days of the workshop, Nathan stayed at the hotel with his Aunty Jen, who has a talent for turning any trip into a shopping adventure.

On the first day, she took Nathan with her to the mall. At first, he was excited—until he realized that this adventure wasn’t what he had in mind. As they moved from store to store, it didn’t take long for him to figure out that he wasn’t a fan of shopping. Being the resourceful and clever child he is, Nathan found a solution. He noticed that if he pulled the clothes off the racks, Aunty Jen would get frustrated and leave the store. So, naturally, that’s exactly what he did.

By the second day, he wasn’t taking any chances. He knew what was coming, and he wanted no part of it. As Aunty Jen later recounted, he did everything he could to avoid another shopping day. His best tactic? He spread his legs wide at the entrance of every store, physically blocking their way inside.

It worked. Aunty Jen finally gave up, and Nathan had successfully won the battle against the shopping trips.

By day three, it was his turn to attend the workshop with me, and he could not have been happier. From the moment we arrived, he was the life of the party. The instructors and attendees surrounded him, and he absolutely thrived in the spotlight.

Shifting Perspectives: From Fixing to Embracing

Looking back, I realize that, at that moment, I was too exhausted to see the beauty unfolding before me. I was still searching for a way to “fix” my son, still measuring his journey against an invisible standard. It wasn’t until much later that I truly understood:

Nathan was never broken. He has always been whole.

His story—our story—has traveled across the world through my writing. Today, his journey lives on in the form of a children’s book, I’m Just Like You But Different: A Story About Living with Cerebral Palsy, which is being read in classrooms and libraries across multiple countries, including the United States, Dominica, and Jamaica. It is also available worldwide through retailers like Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

And that is what I want other parents, educators, and advocates to understand: our stories matter.

The Power of Representation

One of the most profound lessons I have learned on this journey is that representation matters. Our lives are a collection of stories, each with the power to inform, inspire, and uplift.

When students see themselves reflected in a book, they feel a sense of hope, belonging, and confidence—a reassurance that their stories are worth telling.

Just recently, a student with disabilities told me, “I want a book written about me too.”

That simple statement captures the essence of storytelling—it connects us, empowers us, and transforms lives. It helps children see that they are not alone, that their challenges do not define them, and that their voices deserve to be heard.

Your Story Matters, Too

One of the most unexpected and beautiful outcomes of sharing our journey has been seeing how it has encouraged others to do the same. I’ve had countless conversations with parents, educators, and young people with disabilities who are now inspired to share their own stories.

Gratitude for the Journey

So, back to this picture—though thousands more have been taken since, and I’m sharing a few below, today I realized something powerful. Every picture and every book I write now allows me to see the beauty and magic that I couldn’t fully grasp at the moment when the photo was taken, or the story was first written.

They serve as gentle reminders of how far we’ve come, the challenges we have overcome, and the strength that has carried us through.

I am deeply grateful for this journey and thank God for my son—exactly as he is.

#RaisingNathan #ThePowerOfOurStories #InclusionMatters #RepresentationMatters #SpecialNeedsMamaBear #OurJourneyOurStrength