Legs and Hurdles

Today I flew from Haiti to Miami and am experiencing the expected reverse culture shock. As we were approaching the ground, I saw cars going fast in orderly lines on perfectly straight roads, I saw skyscrapers towering over the sea, I saw roofs, I saw walls, I saw fences, I saw Welcome to Miami Florida!

Once in South Beach, on Collins Avenue,  I saw legs, perfect legs, perfect female legs, scarless, smooth, pain free, healthy and fit. I tried not to look, I tried not to go back to what hurts. I went further on and I saw more legs, more toned, more tanned, more perfect and I saw my legs. Scars on display, misshaped, assymetrical, painful and disgracious. And my reality hit me…

People’s looks linger shyly or obviously on my right leg, heads turn, arms are pinched, eyes stop on what I no longer want to hide like it’s a problem. A problem it’s not, a hurdle it is. It seems they can’t get passed this hurdle, when I can.

I see legs, bare legs in shorts, bare legs in skirts, legs, beautiful legs and I’m curious to know what it feels like to be able to move freely, to run after your friends, to jump up and down, to sit cross legged, to dance all the steps you wish, to jog…Now I’m curious to know what those lingering eyes think when they see my legs…Disgust? Surprise? Repugnance? Nothing?

This year I turned 30 and I had to finally face my reality, the one that I tried changing through surgeries, through sports, through massages. The one reality I can’t change but the one I can challenge. In January I consulted again for surgery or for a better prosthesis, I even consulted a plastic surgeon for reconstruction and remodeling and was about to do it, but instead of that, I lived a dream within my reality. I lived a dream, I went on a wonderful trip to South America. In Rio, capital of beauty and amazing plastic, I wore shorts for the first time in so long that I can’t remember and I walked with my new prosthesis. For the first time I let it be on pictures, finally after 30 years of my leg caught and strapped.I walked and hiked to some of the most breathtaking sites. In Colombia I painted my fake toe nails funky colours. In Patagonia, walking down to El Chalten, with the sun on my back, I ran and I felt light, I felt free, I felt liberated and happy.

Miami, Lincoln Road where people try to look more perfect than perfection, where women look down at my leg with their blown up fake lips and balloonesque breasts, I felt embarrassed, I felt out of place because I haven’t tried harder to make it look better…Because it will never look better, nothing will change it, only I can work harder on accepting it.

During the South American adventures, I met another French girl of my age, disabled from birth too and in very simple words she stated a truth “You seek acceptance but you never fully accept the handicap”, our truth.

I guess this goes for those lingering eyes too, I have to accept them, even if they still hurt, will I ever?

Tomorrow, December 31st, I’ll be ready to celebrate my 31st birthday in Cartagena.

Back in Latin America, “un pueblo sin piernas pero que camina”

Happy New Hugs for the New Year!