That Forrest Gump quote:

"Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get."

I got the chocolate nobody wanted. The extra, the last one left, the one smushed and cracked. I had to take it; it wouldn't be polite not to.

From the outside, I had no idea what I was in for. It seemed impossible to gain the courage to put it in my mouth. But when I did, I was glad.

Inside of that dusty, cracked chocolate was nothing I had ever tasted before. Some people, the ones with perfectly-shaped chocolate, filled with gooey caramel or fluffy truffle that makes your mouth water at the sight, may view the differences as bad. But that's only because it was one of a kind; they didn't get to see the inside.

They may go "poor thing, stuck with that crappy chocolate".

And it's true that I had to get through the stale shell, but it was worth it because it came with a lifetime's worth of satisfactions.

That is my life living with Transverse Myelitis.

At just 13 years old, in the course of just one day, I became suddenly paralyzed. I could no longer sit up, walk, or move my arms. I felt scared and helpless.

At first, I didn't know if anything was going to get better. But once I got past that hard shell, I realized that my life is unique. It's different, and although people probably do say: "Poor thing,
stuck with that crappy T M," they don't actually know what's inside. They don't know that what's inside is rewarding because every time I'm able to do something (anything) again, like tie my shoes or run a few meters, I appreciate it much more than I did before.

That is the tasty, hidden part that nobody but me craves, because they've never gotten the chance
to see it.

So I say: "poor them" to anyone who doesn't know what a real accomplishment is, because knowing that you've accomplished something, big or small, is that secret ingredient.

The secret ingredient to the inside of any piece of chocolate, crappy on the outside or not.