My life is, in many ways, one of weakness. Physically, my legs are extremely tight, I cannot completely open or fully rotate my right hand, and my right arm, though not very strong for any of my life, has contracted and tightened over time, so that it spends most of the time sitting against my chest, with my elbow sticking out, in a pose similar to the chicken dance.

I’m certainly well-loved and cared for, and I try to stay joyful and positive. Even still, from a physical standpoint, anybody with a disability likely wouldn’t believe me for a second if I said that I didn’t sometimes wish I was created differently.