Today's OneWord: Acrobat

For several years, I thought I wanted to be an acrobat – a dancer and spinner and flipper at the circus, dazzling the crowds as my outfit shimmered with colors and glitter. But that was before the accident. I had spent considerable time in the hospital afterward, mentally debating just where my life would go next. Especially since, after all, I never longer had any legs below the knee.

My mother was beside herself, and my father could hardly speak. He sat around my hospital room a lot silently, just biting his lip and shaking his head. Unlike them, however, I was stoic, matter-of-fact; I could tell they were shocked, almost mortified, by my superficial calm.