#physicaldisabilities

Wells thought he understood upper-body day.

Then Coach introduced him to the chair drill.

The visiting athlete rolled onto the court inside the Golden Army Training Center with calm confidence, gloves tight, shoulders relaxed, and the kind of focus that made Wells stop grinning before anyone said a word. The chair was low, fast, angled for sport, every line built for speed and control.

Wells looked at it.

Then at Coach.

Coach simply said, “Learn.”

So Wells learned.

Not perfectly. Not quickly. Not without nearly turning too hard and discovering that wheels did not care about ego.

The first sprint burned his shoulders.

The first turn humbled his core.

The first stop taught him that control was not optional.

By minute ten, Wells understood: this was not easier. This was different strength.

The athlete beside him moved like water over hardwood, sharp turns, clean pushes, perfect timing. Wells followed, sweating through his gold training shirt, arms pumping, jaw tight, pride quietly undergoing maintenance.

Coach watched from the sideline.

“Again,” he said.

Wells did not complain.

He pushed again.

Faster this time. Cleaner. Lower through the turn. Better hands on the rims. Less force, more precision.

The athlete nodded once.

That meant more than applause.

By the end, Wells was breathing hard, shoulders wrecked, palms sore, and smiling like someone had just handed him a new definition of power.

Strength was not always standing tall.

Sometimes strength was speed from a seated position.

Sometimes it was adaptation, balance, endurance, and refusing to let the world decide what movement was supposed to look like.

Wells looked across the court, nodded to his training partner, and tapped one hand against the wheel.

“Again?” he asked.

The athlete grinned.

Coach lifted the whistle.

And Wells pushed.

It's going on nine years since I opened up to myself about having my disability, and not many people out there in society will ever get me, and that is a damn shame. Did I choose the right path for myself, and how did I go into becoming an advocate? Gosh darn skippy, I sure did for myself.

Can you even imagine, from nine months old up until adulthood, having a child who has a disability and caring for them? That child knows deep in the back of their mind that there is something off about them while focusing on the positive side of things, or they want to believe that there isn't anything wrong with them while going to school each day. Seeing the same classmates and teacher. All the classmates around her have their own disabilities or conditions. Being in this classroom was a battleground, battling with the different subjects that I had trouble with. And here she would find herself at times wondering about these thoughts that kept popping up in her head: What are the other groups of students in the building like? Because at this time, she was only seeing and knowing about her classroom and only her classroom with other students who had disabilities and conditions. As each year progressed, a change started happening. In the second junior year, it was time to become included with the regular education students. Some of the regular education students were patient with students with disabilities, and you can tell which students were and which students were not. Those who happen to be patient—you saw them helping students with disabilities later on in the day. That made me proud to actually see and know that here I was being included while battling with my disability in mind. And it wasn't just me who was being included in other regular education classes. I see other people with disabilities in these classes too. Yet I still saw some places where it needed adjustments, and as the years progressed, not only was I dealing with these aspects of my own disability, but I was also seeing where there were cracks that needed to be fixed.

2015 came around, and a lot was going on back then. I was feeling down about being rejected from getting a job, so I turned to watching a lot of television to keep my mind off of what was going on in my head. As I shared, I wanted to be the host of my own talk show because this was my dream to be on television for a good reason. I took the idea one of my siblings shared with me, and I came up with Living with Disabilities.

Those who have heard this story multiple times will tell you that living with disabilities was my outlet for accepting my own disability. It took one piece of motivational feedback that drew me in and snapped me into place about my own disability.

I keep going because there are millions of other people like me out there who need their stories to be heard and for those in society to understand that we're people like everyone else. Every person who is disabled has a story, and through that story, some challenges have been faced and overcome, which is why the light shines brighter at the end.

To become a guest on the show, you simply fill out a form. You must be 18 years old or older. If you are not 18 years old or older, you must have consent from your parent or guardian. In the form, you must state that. Living with disabilities does not believe in exclusion. Once you fill out the form, you will then be sent a Zoom link. And if something ever comes up that you cannot make, simply reschedule, and I'll do the same.

Earrings made by Trini's Creations on IG at @Fashionablycreativewithtrini

Donald said that the “Democrats are the party of crazy politicians.”

Really Donald, are you sure that it is the dems which are the party of crazy politicians.”

You DO NOT look like the picture of mental stability in this picture.

I know, you are mentally stable, you just like mocking disabled people.