“Can I go in now?” I asked, impatient. I was nine at the time, and I was at the local pool. It was my friend's birthday and she hosted it at the pool to celebrate it. My mom and I had just arrived, and the first thing I wanted to do was jump in and play. Loud noises coming from my friends playing erupted in my ears, urging me even more to join them. I didn’t even think of the effects of getting in the pool. I was born deaf, so I’ve always worn Cochlear Implants to be able to hear. Being a kid, I never really cared about it and considered myself completely normal regardless of what I’d heard around me. I’d also have my friends and family tell me I was normal, resulting in me believing it. Oftentimes I never even brought up my hearing loss thinking it didn’t impact me. Instead of thinking about me being deaf, the only thing playing in my mind was how I was going to have so much fun. “Give me your Cochlear Implants, and then yes you can go swim,” my mom said as she sat down in a white beach chair next to me. As soon as I took them off, the endless sounds of screaming, splashing, and talking stopped. It was as if I had turned off the car radio blaring with today’s top music. To replace the sounds, my thoughts filled my brain, clearer than they were before. Instead of thinking much of it, I just quickly handed my Cochlear Implants over to my mom and went to join my friends in the swimming pool.

Cold, clear, and trickling water splashed on my body as I swam to look for one of my friends. Water reached up into my ears, but I didn’t care or notice. Instead, I continued my search until I found her. One of my friends was swimming around and playing a game with a few others. I said her name, but I noticed some other kids stared at me as if I had shouted it too loud. She came over to me and started talking, but nothing came out. Her lips were moving with what she was saying, but I couldn’t pick up anything, so I resorted to lip-reading. Ever since I was a small child, I used lip-reading when I couldn’t hear. Lip-reading is pretty difficult, however, and is not always accurate. I tried to focus on my friend’s lips to understand her. “Me...Play…Bear… Yellow” It was too hard to tell what she had meant to say, and I was certain she didn’t actually say most of it. I asked her to repeat what she said. Nope, missed it again. I asked her again to repeat it, and her knowing my disability, did so. After missing it again, I felt bad. I understood she was trying to talk to me, however, I kept missing it. After a few more attempts, we both gave up and she went to continue her game with some others. Once she left, I swam by myself and watched a few of the other kids playing a game of catch. Seeing them talk to each other so easily and carelessly sounded so nice and easy. I wanted that too, but it seemed as if it came harder for me. I still didn’t really care about it, but it started to bug me a bit. A memory came up in my mind reminding me that it wasn’t the first time it had happened.

It was a few months ago, before the swimming party, and school was still in session. I had my Cochlear Implants on and was sitting with my friends while eating food at lunch. The lunch room was loud with conversations piled over each other. That day it had been sloppy joes with carrots for me. Beside me sat my cousin who was in the same grade as I, whereas on my right sat a few friends I was familiar with. I started to eat and looked at where my cousin was sitting to hear what the conversations were about. Instead, what I got were scrambles of words. Even with my cochlear implants on, I still struggled with understanding every word, especially with noise in the background. Suddenly, she burst out laughing along with the other students she was talking to. I laughed along, but instead of thinking how funny the joke was, I was thinking about how I had missed it. Why can’t I just understand them like everyone else? I was upset, but I pushed it aside and continued to eat. Soon enough, I was distracted and completely forgot about it until now.

Now, I was still at the same swimming party. I swam some more in the pool and played a small game of catch with my cousin until she went to welcome some more of her friends. It was her birthday party, so she was often busy. Most of the time, I switched from being in the pool doing small things, to being out of the water by my mom. Currently, I was in the pool once more. After what felt like hours, many of the kids by me left to join another group of kids. My friend came over and said something. This time I could pick up what she said a little better as she pointed to the group while talking slowly for me. After a few attempts and failures, I could now understand she had asked if I wanted to join them. I declined, not wanting to make them have to waste time just for me to be included. I told her she could still go play with them, but she stayed. Soon enough, one giant group was formed. Only my friend, a few other kids, and I were left swimming alone like dogs without an owner. Eventually, the group split up into two groups and started playing a pool game. The game involved a small ball that was being passed between both groups. It seemed fun, observing my friends’ giant smiles and happiness shown in their eyes. They also made it look so easy to talk and hear each other. Barely anyone would mouth “What?”, or look confused after something was said. That’s when I realized that I wasn’t normal. In fact, I never had been to begin with. Even though I lived my whole life just like how my friends did, I wasn’t like them. I was born deaf and always will be deaf. This was something that I needed to accept and I finally did.

Being deaf isn’t an identity. It’s not what fully defines me, or has a say about my personality. However, it can’t just be brushed off like dust. It’s permanent and will stay with me forever. It can have its pros, but it also has its cons. Because I’m deaf, I’m not normal. Even years later from that swimming party as a teen now, there are still days when I feel alone, knowing people around me don’t live in my world. I do have a friend who also wears Cochlear Implants, but she moved last year, making it sometimes harder than before. I understand that my situation isn’t as bad as others, but it can still be difficult. The thing though is, that it’s something that so few people in my world can actually understand and relate to. Sometimes it’s nice not being normal, however. While reading at home, I like to mute the world, so I can focus and image the story clearer. It also can be cool at times to explain to people my hearing loss. Regardless of its pros and cons, it’s still a part of me. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always been supported and provided with help during school regarding my hearing loss, and I’m really grateful for it. I’m still growing as a person with learning who I am, and even though I may seem normal, I’m not. I’m not normal and honestly, I’m okay with that.