Don't get me wrong. Some days I wake up and am a little less than enthusiastic (ok maybe a little more than a little) about being dependent on two metal sticks to walk. Some days the arthritis in my body makes me feel as though I've been beaten flat by a meat mallet. Other days I'd rather be doing the downhill slalom in the Winter Olympics than getting dressed for work. Some days, when I hear my favorite song on the radio, I wish I could jump up and dance in a way that makes sense to more people than me. Other days, I am saddened by the fact that I will honestly never know what it is like to carry a child in my arms while walking down the street... or anywhere, for that matter.
Some days I am bitter. Other days I am angry-- angry at myself, at God, and at anyone within earshot... thinking that I would have a better life if I didn't realize what I'm missing out on day-by-day.
So... what if? What if I was different? What if I was this gorgeous, graceful, able-bodied attorney who loved to roller skate, and dance, and run half-marathons?
I'm sure this other version of me would be a perfectly nice person, with perfectly nice interests, and a perfectly nice life. But that person wouldn't be me. And what's more... I'm sure she would have an equally long list of complaints about her own life, skills, and abilities. I'm ok not knowing this other me, and should research and science ever give me a chance to meet her, I think I'll pass.
I like the me that I've become, flaws and all. I wouldn't trade it for the world. I may not have the ability to walk without some sort of aid, but I do have the ability to fight for the rights of others even less fortunate than myself. I am passionate about disability rights, and civil rights in general. That passion wouldn't have grown to be what it is today without my personal experiences and struggles. I know God has given me this life for a purpose, and I don't intend to waste a single second worrying about what I could do or be in a different one.
No comments:
Post a Comment