THINGS PROVOCATIVE, EDGY AND PROFANE

You might call me a cripple or a freak.  Though if you’re going to use epithets, I’d prefer “gimp girl.”

It’s pejorative. But since I both struggle to walk and have ovaries, it’s true.  Not “True” as in the Spandau Ballet song, but “true” as in truth. The kind of truth that -- if you own it -- will set you free. 

I’m ready to own my particular truth. I’m ready to be set free.

Oh, wait a minute. Perhaps you’re thinking I need to be set free because I’m a prisoner in my own body. I can’t water ski or kick box, so my life is devoid of all meaning. May I point out that such a thought stems from the assumption that being able-bodied is always superior to being disabled? That’s a very progressive way of thinking, provided you’re living in the Middle Ages.

OK, that was rather bitchy of me. Sorry. Let me back up and clarify a few things. I’ll try to be more polite.

I don’t want to be anyone’s inspiration. Don’t pat me on the head or gaze at me with pity.

And for heaven’s sake, if you pass me on the street, don’t hand me dollar bills. (I’m not a stripper.)

I don’t exist on this planet primarily to suffer, and my suffering isn’t about making you feel more content with your own situation. None of this “I felt sad because I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet” nonsense.

If you’re still expecting heart-warming tales about a chick who triumphed over a terrible disease and grew up determined to find a cure, you’ve stumbled upon the wrong blog. (Forget medical research. I wanted to grow up to be Joan Jett.)

But if you seek out things provocative, edgy and profane, welcome to EarthBound TomBoy.