“I am conscious of a soul-sense that lifts me above the narrow, cramping circumstances of my life. My physical limitations are forgotten- my world lies upward, the length and the breadth and the sweep of the heavens are mine!”
― Helen Keller

I’m going to say it. I hate the word disability. I hate everything about it. It is like lead in my mouth. Mia has a disability. She is disabled. I say it and choke on it. Yet I say it. I write it. I think it. And each time I hate it more.

I don’t hate it because I don’t want my child to have a disability, although that is true too. I hate it because it only describes my daughter by what she can’t do as opposed to what she can accomplish. It limits her. It diminishes her. And I hate that word for doing that.

It’s just a word. Semantics. I know it shouldn’t matter, but words matter to me.

I know I’ll get over it. I know I’ll grow up and accept the word for what it is, but today I wish it didn’t exist.

I know it will be always be a part of her story. I just hope it doesn’t become her only story.

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