I am disabled. Mostly by society.
I am on wheels. Everyone should know this by now. Regular readers, anyone who reads my About page, people I’ve worked with, laughed with, gotten lost with, my parents and the man who loves me. That’s everyone.
What people may not know is this: I am totally OK with it. My CP means that I will never run a marathon. I may drive one, though. It means I don’t go to the gym. I probably should, but I don’t have to. I can do laps around my house, or push my myself uphill. Or over cobbles.
I’m never going to walk down the aisle, but I may get funky new wheels for the occasion. I don’t care how I get there, I’m more about the the man at the end, and the people there with us.
Yes, CP sometimes sucks. So do taxes. Taxes are worse.
Other posts from where I sit: