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It was the first day of Eighth Grade that marked a turning point in my life – the day I decided to shuck the prosthetic arms that I had been wearing every day since I was three. With an adolescent sense of defiance that still burns inside of me today, I rejected the pressures of society that insist that four limbs are a prerequisite for pursuing a full and meaningful life.

For eleven years I felt the weight – both physical and emotional – of an appendage that hung on my body but was not a part of me.  I share this story because I believe that almost everyone carries the weight of their own fake arms.

I like to ask my audiences: “What are your fake arms?”