In my eyes, there was always a glimmer of hope that took me away from Duchenne muscular dystrophy. I remember in first grade when the symptoms began to manifest, my weak legs had a great effect on me. I had much difficulty returning to my feet after sitting on the carpet during story time.
While getting myself up, I’d use my hands to push upright in the posture of a quadruped, which looked mighty awkward. Amid the laughter though, I couldn’t understand why such a seemingly ordinary task could take so much more effort. However, it was my light personality that saved me from heartache. I simply laughed along with them.
Of course, I’ve cried on numerous occasions, wondering how I could possibly continue enduring. I mean really, who wouldn’t? People often oblige themselves to feel sorry for me because they believe DMD is the end of the world. They fail to realize that the human mind is plastic, and adaptability isn’t impossible. When remarkable circumstances come our way, genuine strength automatically reveals itself.
You see those bright eyes of mine? I see a world with counterparts opposite to sadder realities. I observe infinite wonders, and no matter how much I lose, nothing can take away my quiet place. Admittedly, choosing to remain in the light despite the looming darkness is much harder than before, especially with my recent condition. I need something to call my own, and whenever I find my way, utopia unravels itself like the aforementioned manifestation. I choose to let the warming sun reign over me during those moments, if only in my imagination.
Happiness… is an aura of radiance that surrounds me. It’s a protective shield from all the hurt that comes with living. I hope that whoever is reading this, owns it as well.