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I like to say I'm a rare commodity. I was born with Freeman-Sheldon Syndrome, a very rare genetic bone and muscular disorder. The white walls of hospitals and uncomfortable chairs of doctors' offices became my second home when I had my first surgery at 10 weeks old. In my 28 years, I've had 27 surgeries, and now that I've survived my surgeries - and my hospitals stays - I've finally been able to start living my life, my way. I've graduated college with a journalism degree, seen the bright lights of New York City and am currently a freelance writer, blogger and newspaper columnist. This, finally, is my time to be normal despite my abnormal disability.
But, there's no denying that my disability is a part of who I am. And you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way. It's made me who I am - a woman my mother calls "a persistent, spunky little one." We all have our own scars and disabilities we have to grapple with in life. It just happens that mine is a bit more noticeable than others.