Tooth or Dare Podcast Feature

Listening/watching back, I forgot how much fun I had chatting with these sweet ladies. If you’re looking for some “beaming ear to ear” kind of story, then this is for you. All honest, raw, no excuses and the sky’s the limit coming from the heart of That Deaf Girl.

They were super kind enough to add captions to the podcast video so my DHH readers and I can watch or listen in. And guys, this is the kind of compassion we need in this world.

Forever honored and humbled by this fun opportunity.

Listen on Apple

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/tooth-or-dare-podcast/id1441039535#episodeGuid=toothordare.podbean.com%2F7bc7651c-9cf9-595e-a102-ea735108e383

Listen on Spotify

Watch on IGTV with captions

Music

How do you interpret music? Did it make it hard for you as a cheerleader? As a massage therapist, did it help calm you or not make a difference? How has music affected your life as a child and as an adult? What’s the one kind of music that you feel is like a language to you, that speaks to you as a person?

I cannot live without music.

I grew up dancing. I learned how to adapt to different tones and pitches. I would stay up late looking up lyrics online to study them for the next dance rehearsal. I would watch music videos via closed caption to follow it better. It even helped to learn their dance moves to it. That’s how I learned the songs to help me dance better to them. Being on stage, lights are shining on you, the music is playing and in that moment it’s you moving to the soul of the music.

As a massage therapist, I’ve always enjoyed therapeutic music. It’s very relaxing and there’s no lyrics to learn from aside from voices in another language that can make you wonder if you’re actually hearing voices or if there’s a ghost in the room. (Crickets in background…)

I’m kidding. I mean, if I’m being honest, sometimes I do drive myself crazy if the house is super quiet…

I was at a ZBB concert recently. Some of the songs I did not know and some took me a while to pick up. I do know they played our wedding song. It was a loud concert. It doesn’t sound like what you hear on your usual car radio or ITunes. There’s a ton going on. They do remixes and play other songs you may have heard of but don’t know the words to. Some concerts I’ve been to will have the lyrics on their projector screen. I do rely on Justin to relay the words or to tell me what song it is they’re playing. But honestly to me, it’s really all about having the best time of your life at your favorite bands concert. I danced all night long with my husband and some of the best people I know. Sang along to songs I could understand and smiled the whole time because that’s simply music.

Same thing when I cheered at the stadium. The music isn’t the same you hear in rehearsal. You might be off the routine just a millisecond than the rest of the girls. I relied mostly on my sight to make sure I’m moving with everyone else. If it’s raining, I’m dancing without my hearing aids and no one notices it. It’s a huge place and the music is very loud, not clear, the fans are screaming, players are yelling, the loudspeaker is mumbling nonsense. It helps that you can rely on the vibration of the beat of the song and sight of other dancers.

I think music really uplifts the soul of a person. Music really is the universal language of the person. It varies for all of us, even in a hearing person.

That Mom With a Deaf Daughter

That mom had no idea what she was in for. I was a pretty outgoing little baby with so much to offer until one day she realized I wasn’t talking when I should be. I wasn’t responding to that clap behind my back. Wait a minute? She’s fine. She’s just lazy…

Remember when I talked about perseverance in my past blogs? This woman is the definition of perseverance.

She became that mom with a deaf daughter.

She quickly became that teacher, speech therapist, my “hearing aid battery switcher”. She taught me in more ways than I ever could learn.

I learned to speak, I learned to hear, I learned to listen.

She showed me a passion for dance, a place I could escape and express.

She showed me places I never imagined seeing, turning me into a wanderlust.

She showed me independence, molding me to be the strong woman today.

She taught me that fear is not an option, to deal with the fear I didn’t know existed.

She taught me the strengths I didn’t know I had. To be able to fall fearlessly into life and truly learn what this world has to offer.

She taught me to smile in the face of adversity. And to believe in myself.

She taught me that love doesn’t come from hugs and kisses, it’s the random act of kindness you do for others.

She’s taught me what it means to give love and be loved, and for that I am forever grateful.

Thank you for always being selfless. The constant rides to dance lessons and rehearsals. Showing up to every single dance performances and games. Making my birthday cake every year. Being there when I need it.

Being there for my first words, my first steps, my first days of school, my first heartbreak.

All the way through life, no matter the highs and lowest lows, she’s always been my standing ovation and continue to be so.

Thank you for being you.

I can only hope to be half the woman, friend and future mother she is today.

All I am I owe to my mother

George Washington