Dear Everyone,

Fighting Like a Warrior - My Story of Bilateral Mean Hearing Loss

I've been told so many times that it's impossible to live with a diagnosis like this, that the pain will break you, that people can be cruel without meaning to, and that I'll always be seen as an outsider. Those words stayed with me for a long time, but they never managed to take away my will to live fully.

I was only four years old when my parents told me that my hearing was very low and that I would need hearing aids. I didn't really understand what that meant, but I could feel the fear in their eyes: a mix of sadness and hope. I didn't know why my world sounded quieter than everyone else's. I just knew something about me was different.

When I first put on my hearing aids, it felt like the universe opened up. Sounds came rushing toward me like a wave of life: my mother's soft voice, the whisper of leaves, the wind, even the gentle hum of the refrigerator. I remember looking around and smiling. It was overwhelming...but magical.🌍✨

Years later, I realized that the hardest part wasn't the hearing loss itself: it was the way people reacted to my silence.
At school, some kids laughed, others whispered. "Are you deaf or something?" or even "How does it feel to be n extraterrestrial?": a joke to them, but a wound to me. I smiled to seem strong, but inside, I broke a little each time. All I wanted was to be seen for who I truly was, not for what I lacked.

And yet, within that quiet pain, I found strength. I learned to read lips, to listen with my eyes, to understand emotions without sound. I learned that real strength doesn't always shout: sometimes it just breathes quietly and keeps going.

Over time, technology became my ally. My hearing aids became clearer, smarter and more outstanding as technology improved. I started listening to music, talking on the phone, connecting to the world in my own way.
Each small improvement felt like freedom; a little victory that whispered, you can do this.

But yes, there are still hard days...Days when the world feels too loud and yet hard to hear. Days when I get tired of explaining, translating, adapting or even feeling normal. Days when I feel invisible, caught somewhere between noise and silence. And in those moments, I take a deep breath and remind myself: I'm not fighting against my diagnosis: I'm fighting for my life, exactly as it is.

Today, I wear my hearing aids with pride. They're not a source of shame; they're a symbol of how far I've come. They are my armor and the proof of every quiet battle I've fought and won.

For me, living with bilateral hearing loss doesn't mean hearing less; it means feeling more. Finding music in silence, courage in struggle, and beauty in the way my world vibrates differently.🎶🩷

Maybe I don't hear everything the way you do, but I've learned to listen to live life in my own way: to feel it, to live it, to love it.
And that, I believe, is the most beautiful kind of superpower.🤍