I believe in shoes.

I was born late at night, but I was completely normal. I was healthy; my family was happy.

Uggs represent comfort; I know I will always have my friends and family by my side, and they will never leave. They love and support me, in everything I do, and I know they will always believe in me- no matter what I choose to pursue. Uggs represent the warmth I feel whenever they’re around.

The only things abnormal were my big toes- they were small (Why are big toes small? I always wondered) The doctor assured my parents I was fine, all they said was, “She’ll never wear flip flops when she’s a teenager” [They obviously misjudged me because I love my big toes more than any other part of my body].

Flip-flops represent my carefree spirit and freedom. They symbolize my love of summer and swimming and Cardinals baseball games. Flip-flops represent my ability defying the odds of everyone and loving the life I live.

As a child, I was never home. You’d probably find me on the sports field, or the pool, or the dance floor, or flying high on the trampoline. I loved every single solitary second of it. I was that really annoying child crying on the sidelines if I got benched or couldn’t play my favorite position- yes, sorry, I was that spoiled brat (I blame only child syndrome). Though I was five, and clearly wasn’t the next Carly Johnson or Matt Carpenter, I believed I was- even though I could barley do a cartwheel or catch the baseball flying at me (sorry there was a pretty butterfly, what was I suppose to do?). I constantly believed I had bigger shoes to fill. One Sunday, my dreams of being the star athlete shattered like the smooth surface of the water when you do a cannon ball.

Toms represent my daily struggle to cope, as well as the hardship I endure every single day. My life is far from easy- from having to find someone to do my hair, or even put on my shoes. Toms represent that no matter how hard my life gets I can’t give up, because the struggle isn’t everything.

I was a careless, free-spirited five year old. I was unstoppable; I didn’t need any help (even if I couldn’t use a toaster- by the way, this hasn’t changed). One day, I woke up like every other Sunday morning at our lake house. My mom was working, and my dad was cleaning our boat so we could get back home. I needed breakfast, so I ran in the kitchen, asked my mom to turn on Spongebob, and lift me up on the bar stool so I could eat while watching the obnoxious sponge.

When I was done, I screamed bloody murder for my mom to get me down, because I had better things to do (like sit on the couch instead of watch from a bar stool). When she didn’t come immediately, I decided I could do it myself- I slipped, fell and smacked my back on the tile floor. Wailing, my mom came running, and that’s when she saw the lump on my back. She moved me to the coach, and quickly yelled for my dad, who was four floors down and at the end of the dock (yes, she screamed that loud). Hours later, when the swelling didn’t dwindle and the pain was just as real, we packed the car and got me to the doctor where our family's life was changed.

FOP? Three letters that changed my life forever. Fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva. No more sports, no more recess, no more carefree life. My life was over, or so I thought.

I was never a pessimistic child, and I quickly learned that because of my diagnosis, I had to change my shoes. Being negative wasn’t something I was good at, and it definitely wasn’t something I wanted to be good at. So, I changed my heartbreak into something positive. I decided I did not need to give up everything I loved; I just had to find a way to participate differently.

So, I put on my tennis shoes, and I changed my life. Like FOP, tennis shoes are not my favorite thing- they’re constricting and gross. But no matter how unhappy I am (or my feet are), I gotta live my life, and I gotta move on

My life is hard, but I have to accept that. My new life can be everything I want it to be, I just have to find a new way to accomplish the task of making my “new” life all that I want it to be. I knew this was something I could handle; I just had to figure out the best way.

Bare feet represent my freedom. FOP doesn’t encase my life, it doesn’t stop me, it doesn’t limit me. Bare feet represent my freedom to be whoever I want to be, and do whatever I want to accomplish.

Without walking a mile in my shoes, you’ll never know my struggles, and even though that’s a stupid cliché, it’s something I believe in whole-heartedly. My life is challenging, but so is yours. I don’t know your challenges, and you don’t know mine, but change your shoes for a mile, and maybe you’ll see, those shoes aren’t so easy to fill.