My story began in a small desert town, in a backyard, with my dad on his motorcycle. I was 2 1/2 and the whole family was outside enjoying the cool spring weather. My dad had bought a motorcycle and was putting each of his 3 kids on it to take a ride. I was afraid of the noise, and didn't want to take a turn. He put me on anyway, with no shoes, and no chain guard on the motorcycle. When I started screaming louder, he thought it was just because I didn't want to be on it....then he saw the blood.
Everything I know about that day is not from memory, but from different family members putting the puzzle together for me. I am almost 40 and am still learning new things about that day.
I certainly feel fortunate in so many ways...I could have died, or gotten more injured. But I also feel the pain in knowing that my life had changed so quickly at a very young age. The worst part for me was feeling different from everyone else. I became very unsocial. I didn't want to be a part of anything that involved taking your shoes off, I was very ashamed. No swimming, wearing sandals, getting pedicures, taking ballet. All the things that girls like to do.
I hope to learn and heal from being a part of this group!