Clumsiness

I was always the last to be picked in PE class. No one wanted me on their netball team. Not if they could help it.

Kate can’t catch a ball.

I also fall over. A lot. I have new glasses. The last ones had to be replaced after a literal faceplant while out for a run on the country lanes near my home. I tripped and grazed my cheek on the tarmac road and bent my previous specs so badly they could no longer stay on my face. Luckily no cars were around.

I’ve lost count of the number times I’ve sprained my ankles.

I am not allowed to carry the shopping from or to the car, because my ability to trip over my own feet in the car park has resulted in too many food items being scattered across the ground.

As a child, my teachers were worried that I was a battered child because my legs were always covered in bruises because I was always walking into things.

I always had grazed knees at primary school.

I chipped the corner of one my central incisors when I walked into a tree aged 16.

I am a walking liability.

As a child I used to toe-walk.

As a toddler I never crawled. I’m told I pulled myself up and began cruising around the furniture instead. Neither of my children ever crawled either, but I didn’t worry about it, because that’s normal, right?

Clumsiness is associated with autism. It’s not actually part of the DSM definition, but appears to be pretty much universal.

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