I can’t feel my legs

‘I can’t feel my legs’: an exclamation often used in pivotal moments of a story to depict intense devastation and anguish for a sudden loss of a sensation. This is typically the point in the story in which the character can’t fathom how to carry on under such horrible circumstances. If such is the case, my story begins at the climax. Except it wasn’t something I had to get used to nor was it something taken from me, it was something I never had to begin with. I can’t feel my legs and I never will. 

I will never feel what it’s like to be in my shoes. I will never feel what lies beneath my feet. From warm and cozy fuzzy socks to the sizzling pavement on a summer’s afternoon, I only have my imagination to draw upon. Still, what I never had is not what I long for. 

I can feel the endorphins rushing through my veins when genuine laughter expels from my lips. I can feel the serotonin easing my mind when I place earbuds into my ears and drown out the world with contagious melodies. I feel familiarity in every surface my fingertips graze. I feel hypnotized by the beauty of all colors and shapes that mingle to create art.

With every inhale of fresh air, as I take in the glorious scents of the natural world, I feel serenity wash over my body. With every taste sweet or bitter, I feel my tastebuds dance. With every word my pen translates for my intricate mind, I feel passion grow within my soul like blossoming flowers in the springtime.  

I invite constellations of goosebumps to invade my skin. I crave the feeling of sunshine enveloping me in comforting warmth. I am exhilarated by the piercing pain in my heart left by the power of storytelling when fictional love falls apart. Through hills of joy and creative bliss as well as spirals of pain, anger, and sadness, I’m on a rollercoaster of emotions and I never want to get off. 

I was never stripped of any sensation. I am not incomplete nor is my story one of heroic overcoming. So if by the title you thought this was supposed to be a tragic anecdote, you’ve got it all wrong. I do not wish to change what cannot be changed. I only wish to fulfill my heart until it’s experienced every possible feeling it’s ever desired. I long to feel the fluttering of butterflies that awaken with love and the ache of heartbreak. I strive for the feeling of success and brace myself for failure.

I can’t feel my legs, but I am not numb. So no, I can’t run, jump, skip, or twirl, but I am feeling everything and living all at once and in that I am truly content.

Embracing My Differences

Growing up I never saw myself as any different from everyone else. It was never a big deal to me that I simply sat and rolled while others stood and walked. I felt annoyed by, but quickly got used to children in public pointing at me and asking their parent what happened to me. It took me years to even realize that I am different. 

I’ve never seen the need to call attention to my differences. I am disabled yes, but I’m also just your average young adult with my own hobbies and aspirations, much like you may have. I have never attempted to consider myself as part of a “community” or felt the need to be celebrated for being “so strong” for the way that I live. 

When I randomly discovered that July was Disability Pride Month, I first felt silly that there even was a holiday celebrating people like me. But then, the story-lover in me did some research. Why is July “Disability Pride Month”? That’s because July marks the anniversary of the Americans With Disabilities Act of 1990. I then recalled that I had once written on my blog about this very date.

Taking a second look at that date, astonishment set in me. It seemed so unbelievable to me that only 30 years ago, people like me were just granted rights that I have today. Today I can look around and see ramps at the end of many sidewalks. Because of what people of all different disabilities fought for, I was welcomed into public schooling because they are required to have wheelchair ramp access and elevators. What I had thought of as nothing more than a social media trend, now started to make sense. 

I now claim newfound pride to be a disabled person. I came to the realization that it’s okay to celebrate me and what I symbolize. This month gave me an opportunity to recognize how fortunate I am due to the plight of those who came before me. Although I refuse to let my disability entirely define me as a person, I took this month to recognize myself and embrace my position in a community of others like me.

I can do without the cliché, restrictive saying that I am “differently abled”. I know what I am capable of. My disability adds many challenges to my everyday life, but I’ve lived this way my whole life, and it is my normal. I’ve lived everyday simply accepting who I am, but now I vow to appreciate the things that make me, me. I have brown hair, brown eyes, and I have a disability in which I use a wheelchair to get around. From this month forward, I am embracing my differences.