Sarah-Understanding Who I Am

Like the tattoos on my legs, my scars have a story. And even when I try to cover the scars with intricate artwork they still have their ways of subtly showing up. This has been very representative of my life. I grew up with what seemed to be the American dream. My parents were both immigrants and came to the US for a better life. I was their first child in their first home. They were happy and so was I. Who knew things would change in a matter of a few years? Who knew that our lives could turn upside down? 

At the age of 11, my life changed in more ways than one. Within one hour of collapsing in extreme pain, I lost all feeling in my legs. To say that was scary was an understatement. I spent months in the hospital and rehab trying to become what I used to consider normal. It was easy to put a smile on my face and act like I was okay, but deep down inside there was a sense of shame and embarrassment. At the young age of 11, I began to hate myself and the fact that I would never walk again. That self-hate continued to transpire in my life for years and even in some part of my adult life. 

I began getting tattoos to cover up scars on my legs. It was another way to cover-up shame. But as years went by I began to learn that just like scars you cannot hide who you truly are. When I began to accept my disability and my circumstances, I began the journey to self-love. I didn't hide who I was or my disability. I began taking pictures with my full body and wheelchair in them. I wasn't scared to show the world who I was. And I was proud to tell my story. I began to live life in ways that I never thought I could. 

I began to travel and going dancing and singing. I began to love life and in turn, I began to love myself. I am blessed in so many ways, to be able to see life in ways that some people will never have the privilege to be to see. So the scars became a reminder that life is beautiful just like I am.