I drive. I laugh. I write. I style my hair. I have deep conversations with friends.

I don’t have scars on my face or head. I don’t have a cast on my body. I don’t have noticeable verbal impairments. 

To the world outside me, this somehow is enough to label me with versions of “you look fine” and/or “you sound normal, you must be better now”. The moment I acquired this injury, it was as if my membership to the General Public spontaneously expired. In a strange way, beginning to receive an onslaught of (unintentionally) invalidating comments acted as my rite of passage into my new community of Invisible Disability.

Deep shame and embarrassment around my acquired deficits kept me quiet for years, until I made the decision to push past my fears. Not only has speaking my truth inspired learning journeys for those around me, it continues to be the most cathartic part of my entire recovery journey.