This accident taught me that when certain abilities are taken away, it makes me question who I actually am. In the month after the accident, I wasn't able to be a mom, or a photographer, or even read a good book, or crochet a fun project. Check off my top 4 ways I spend my time. My relationship with my husband dwindled to merely suggestions on who can take care of the kids next. And the worst part was that I wondered, What's left? Who am I when all of that is stripped away? Because that's not fluff. It's a huge part of who I am.
And I found I really liked what was left. I am a woman. I am a daughter of God. I am brave. I cry when I'm scared, like horribly with all kinds of snot and tears, but I hold still and let them put the needle in anyway. I am strong. I can be hurt, badly. And I can also heal.
I am not the 25 year old that had been stuck in my head for many years. And while I'd love her body again, I really, really love the woman I've turned into.
To make sure I really felt that way, and wasn't just trying to convince myself of it, I hired Michelle Jones, of Michelle Unscripted, to document the Now. Because in a photo, the context is stripped away. There's no "Mom" or "Wife" or "Photographer" title. There's only me. Take it or leave it.
I'll take it. With gratitude.