It’s been awhile since I’ve wrote about my Uber rides but it’s not because the stories aren’t waiting for me to write; it’s because I’ve been holding back.

But then I read this again, “When we hide our messy, authentic selves we are never truly seen,” and it made me ponder some things.

I’ve taken over 1,000 Uber rides since early 2023 when I realized that continuing to drive was putting others- not just me- at risk because of damage to my optic nerve.

I have this little message I text to every driver,
“Hi, I have a knee injury so I’m a little wobbly.
I’ll like to ride in front if that’s okay with you, please let me know.”

Then I wait. Most of the time I’ll get a reply like,
“No problem,” or “Got it!”

Only after I get inside- almost always in front- do I turn and look straight at the driver and admit the rest of my messy, authentic self.

“Thanks for letting me sit up front with you. I’m half deaf and I depend on lip reading to understand people. “

The reactions I get range from complete disbelief, to acceptance, to having drivers share about their own deaf children, parents, relatives, etc.

I’ve had several comment about my ‘accent’ and ask what country I’m originally from….only to be surprised when I tell them this is where I’ve lived all my life.

I speak well because I had a Mema that loved me fiercely and tried every trick in the book to teach me how to talk with out hearing perfectly.

It’s all about touch and vibrations- I’m very aware of the feeling of sounds as I say them because she would hold my hand to her throat as she spoke, and place my own hand against my throat so I could feel my vibrations as well.

I usually just laugh along and say, “It’s impossible to read lips from the back,” and change the subject.

But something happened twice Friday evening and it made me wonder if I should have written more on my little message to the driver.

Maybe I wouldn’t have been dropped twice that night as I tried to get a ride home from work if I had not hidden parts of my story from the new-to-me drivers.

What if I had texted this,
“Hi, I have a knee injury so I’m a little wobbly but I’m absolutely fine, just a little unsteady.

I’ll like to ride in front because I’m half deaf and need to read your lips.
Please let me know.”

It’s long, it’s messy, it’s authentic and it’s real.

But it’s also not exactly how I define myself.

I also know that in the Deaf community, many times Deaf people do not get picked up because drivers either worry about communication issues of have had some negative experiences with Deaf riders.

That may be a tiny part of it but, the truth is, my deafness is just another part of me that makes me who I am- like my brown eyes- and I’m known for it but it’s not all of me.

But Friday night, my first driver got my message and was 17 minutes away so I changed the pillow covers at 925, and emptied the trash then with 2 minutes left, I walked to the curb to wait for my driver, some guy named Devin.

He dropped me with 1 minute to go.

I stared at my phone when It showed that now I had to wait an additional 17 minutes to ride with Janet, a retired music teacher.

I sighed and walked all the way back inside 925 because it was cold and my knee just doesn’t do well standing in the cold.

I texted the new driver, “Please don’t drop me,” to which she replied,” I won’t,” and then started messing with other things in the studio until one of the staff members, Kelli, came down.

We got to talking and she offered to give me a ride home but I assured her that I had already booked another Uber ride.

I sent Janet the same text I always do, making sure she knew about my wobbliness so she wouldn’t think I was intoxicated or something.

I put my phone in my purse, linked arms with Kelli, and walked out the door and across the parking lot and then Kelli got into her car and I opened the front door of the car that pulled in.

It was not Janet. It was a guy- a really nice guy but I was thrown for a loop.

I got in the car and looked at him and asked him to hold on a second.

I checked my phone and sure enough, with 2 minutes before she was to get me, Janet had done what she said she wouldn’t do- she dropped me- and he accepted my request because he had just dropped someone off down on the Square.

Maybe if I had told more about why I wanted to sit in front, I would have ridden home with a woman that wrote on her profile that she sings and plays guitar.

I would have shared that I love music and have collections of albums and name my sessions after songs.

Maybe I should have told more about my mess so I can get where I’m going but I still hide parts of me all the time.

I’m not ashamed anymore, although there were years that I really struggled with it but rather I don’t want people, especially those that haven’t met me yet, to think I’m just a big mess and there’s so many things wrong with me.

Because there’s not- not really.

And that’s the truth.

I’m a little messy, and I don’t exactly fit into any little categories.

I’m half deaf, but I listen very closely and read lips like second nature (because I’ve been it since I was 5), I do have a knee injury and sometimes – especially when it’s cold- it locks up and I’m not very graceful, and yes, my optic nerve damage means I can only see the good in people, and I have to ride with strangers all the time.

But that’s only bits of my story, and one of the things I know for sure is that there’s always more than meets the eye.

I actually enjoy most of my Uber rides- I get to sit next to people that I probably never would have met otherwise.

I get to listen to their stories and get a glimpse into who they are and I feel like God uses this time for His purpose and my good over and over, again.

Which makes me wonder if He’s not whispering to me to tell more people about my messy, authentic self and how He’s made me see all things from a different point of view- the one He has for me.

Set apart this way for His glory and my good.

Messy, real, filled with faith and hope and love.

In the cars with strangers and out of the car with someone I know a thing or two about.

It’s a wild ride, it’s a messy ride, but He’s got the wheel.