The grass is always...toxic green?

No doubt, everyone goes through a transformation like I did. When you realize you're not extraordinary or worse, you're extra-ordinary. My way was a big deal for me. It's not just a memory for me. I wake up every morning (or, moreso afternoon) and I am reminded of my status. I say this, not bitterly, but realistically. I've accepted that there are things I just cannot do. No trampolines. No dancing. No jogging. Some days I'm aware of it more than others. And it sucks. Big time. But there is always something to live for. Or look forward to. (Woah, déjà vu.)

I remember the day when I first ordered my chair. I was 19 and incredibly nervous. I was still ashamed of my condition but I had come to a point in my life where walking to and fro wasn't an option any more. (A lot of people wonder if I'm paralyzed and no, I don't find that offensive. People with disorders like mine are not really well-known. Well, we're there but we're not noticed. I understand both worlds and wish disabled people could cut the 'able-bodied' some slack. Let them be curious and ask questions. How else will they feel comfortable with us, otherwise? As I've tried explaining to younger kids, imagine you're on roller skates for the first time. You can't really control where you're going and your body is super tense. That's what it's like for me anyways.) Anyway, back to the story. I'm 5' and .5 inches. Real short. So my chair size is inbetween a child's and adult's. The best of both worlds. My seat is black. But the rims could be anything I fancied. So, I sat there with this book and imagined myself rolling down the street. There were sparkly colors, camoflague, animal print, plain colors. So I pointed to one and smiled. The doctors looked at me with  sympathy. Asking if I was sure. Positive, I said. They asked if I wanted to think about it some more. No, I want this and nothing else. And that is how I came into possession of my toxic green beauty!

And this is the only time I have given a real explanation for it. That day was the first time in years that I felt like my old self again. The confidence. I was still pretty scared about how people would see me in a wheelchair. But I wanted to look confident and assured in spite of it. If I have to use this everyday then the last thing I want to do is blend in. The toxic green stands out pretty much everywhere. I wanted it to say, Approach Me! Nothing gets me down. I can handle it all! And I always hope people see it that way. Because, secretly, I don't always feel it.