CP is such a visible, all-encompassing part of my life, but sometimes it hits me that if a stranger was to walk into my dorm room, they would find almost no evidence of the challenges I deal with every day. If they searched through my drawers, they’d find blister bandaids, athletic tape, and injury wraps, and they might actually assume I’m an athlete.
At least until they found my shoes.
Earlier in the year, I was talking to my mom on the phone when I paused for a moment, took a deep breath and said, “You know the new sneakers I got just before school started? I kind of wrecked them.”
My right shoe, especially, was ruined. My right side is worse than my left, and my unusual gait pattern takes a toll on my footwear (and my feet, but that’s a story for a different day!). They’re worn down in all the wrong places.
My mom was silent for a moment, and then….
I waited to ensure I’d heard her correctly, shocked. “I don’t think you heard me. I wrecked my shoes. Like wore-a-hole-into-them kind of wrecked.”
"I heard you. Congratulations."
Thoroughly confused now, I checked my connection…maybe I was in a dead zone or something, and “I wrecked my shoes” was being transmitted as “I got an A+ on my chemistry exam” (which, for the record, is impossible).
"Mom," I said, slowly and clearly this time. "I wrecked my shoes. My new shoes."
"I know!" she said.
“And those doctors said you might never walk! You go girl!”
— Full blog post on Transcending CP.