Fighter.

At this present moment, I am sitting at my desk sipping my caramel latte. I can feel it entering my throat and warming my stomach on its way down. In front of me lies a picture of an amazingly beautiful piece of artwork painted by my dear friend and colleague, Tara Asuchak. I am simply awestruck!

If you’ve read my latest blog post, you know that I opened up about how the secondary conditions that I have encountered because of my Cerebral Palsy are affecting me both physically and emotionally. This is the first time that I have wholeheartedly acknowledged the harsh physical realities of my conditions verbally and in writing. I was lying to myself and to those around me by hiding behind a mask that exuded nothing but positivity wherever I went. Looking back, I suppose this is because I didn’t want my challenges to be the centre of my thoughts. I did it out of fear that my internal “ pop bottle” would explode, and I didn’t want anyone to worry about me, so I thought it would be easier to just pretend that I was fine. I was terrified to expose a part of me that not very many people knew anything about. The thought of being real and admitting that, yes, life does suck sometimes made me sick to my stomach, simply because I was conditioned to think that being positive in the face of adversity was the only way to get through it. This is true. My positive attitude, my drive and my ambition is what has allowed me to get to where I am now, but I forgot how to feel in the process. I am truly overwhelmed by the response that generated from my last post. I am so grateful for those who have reached out to offer their support and encouragement. I have learned that the decision to be real and see things for exactly the way they are is like ripping a ban- aid off of a wound that you have been trying to protect for a long time; it stings at first, but after awhile, it begins to breathe and slowly heal.

Last week, I started going to physiotherapy to help manage my pain levels. Right now, physio is devastating for me, because it has made me realize just how much my physical abilities have deterioated . For me, it is reminder of how hard I had to work and the effort I had to put in just to gain those abilities. I feel like I am being robbed. Tara’s painting reminds me of my own personal journey. It symbolizes exactly how I feel. Like the girl in the painting, I spent much of my life sitting on the ground (quite literally, actually) looking up at the metaphorical stars in my life and focusing on the goals I desperately wanted to achieve. To make those dreams a reality, I had no choice but to climb that tree in the background in order to reach for the stars.

Despite the odds that have been stacked against me, I have accomplished so much in life that I never thought would even be a possibility for me. I realize that I need to allow myself to grieve the abilities that I am losing, but through this continuous process of accepting my reality, I have been set free. I am free to feel. I am free to be me. I am so proud of how far I have come. The fact that I have Cerebral Palsy is not going to change, and like all of us, I will continue to face more challenges in the future that will likely test my strength, but I won’t give up. There will be days where I need to cry and let my heart break for a little while, but I won’t let it rob me of my spirit. I am a fighter.