The universe has a unique way of telling us what we need, and when we need it. Sometimes it’s like a gentle nudge from something someone says or does. Other times, finding out what we need is not about external nudges at all.
Our needs can be nudged by how we feel inside. Or how we choose to think, so we can move forward. Whatever the inner force is, it’s always very real and present. It’s up to us to do everything we can to use it in a positive way, which can turn out to be the best or worst thing we do for ourselves.
I’ve always been determined to utilize what I have in a positive manner. Or at least in a way to help me understand why it’s me who’s in a wheelchair instead of someone else. I was in the middle of my freshman year at Penn State Altoona when I discovered something that would fuel my desire to pursue a career as a writer even more. It was subtle and quiet at first but spun into a wild whirlwind of emotion I could barely control or ignore by the end of the year.
My professors continued to notice my passion for writing. I was thrilled — not only because I wasn’t being looked at as “the girl in a wheelchair”, but also because all of this was happening naturally. It didn’t feel forced, so I made a personal commitment to work twice as hard as anyone expected of me.
I made it my mission to keep pouring my heart into everything that came across my professors’ desks to show them I was paying as much attention as they were. I put a lot of pressure on myself, but I always have done that regardless of whatever situation or setting I’m in. It was more about keeping my momentum going. Not only that, but I knew I had the attention of the right people. The fact I earned it in my own way was even more motivation to do my absolute best.
As all of this was unfolding, however, I realized my chains had been loosened enough and I could let my soul breathe. The chains weren’t gone, I just didn’t let them control me. I started to feel differently about my circumstances. I wanted to get away from centering everything around my disability. Or as far away as my cerebral palsy would allow.
I knew it wouldn’t be realistic to completely disregard or deny the fact I’ve been dealt a very specific hand of cards. I also knew my life would not have had a chance without that set of cards. At least not up until this point. Most importantly, however, I had finally come to terms with the notion that these were the cold, hard facts of my existence. There was less room for doubt now.
There was no way I could have changed any of this, even if I wanted to. I simply wanted there to be some space between my immediate reality and the world my writing was creating. My new surroundings in college were the opening I’d always hoped for, so I set my mind on making sure it stayed wide open.
My younger self would not have known what to do at this moment. Maybe she would’ve felt like her circumstances were too much to handle, and she was still trying to find her place in the world. She would’ve said, “I’ll find a way!”, even if she didn’t know where she was going or what to make of the opportunities that were in front of her.
My older self said the same thing. The only difference was I had a destination in sight – and there weren’t any unexpected obstacles in the way. There was only a genuine sense of getting somewhere. Another step toward creating the very personal space I now wanted.
We all start out in certain places with certain goals and ideas. Then, things happen to help you realize you have other aspirations too. It doesn’t mean you have to throw away the ones you started. It means your story is uniquely yours to tell, and sometimes there’s more to it than meets the eye.
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