hellobeautifulcreatures

I expected to live my entire life without price-shopping for truck-stop showers. Then I spent the night in Breezewood. The adventure began last August when my main squeeze James and I drove to Colorado. We passed through Breezewood, Pennsylvania, as do many drivers heading to the Rust Belt and beyond. "What do you think about vacationing here for a week," James asked. I laughed loudly and dismissed the idea. If you've been there, you understand why. Breezewood has been a travel hub for centuries. It was a stagecoach stop in the late 1700s and then became a stop on the Lincoln Highway, America's first cross-country road. The Pennsylvania Turnpike opened in 1940, and thousands of World War II veterans exited at Breezewood, stopping at what now is the Gateway Travel Plaza to trade their unit patches for meals. Today, Motorists driving between I-70 and the turnpike are forced off the highway and onto a congested half-mile stretch of expensive gas s...

I’m coming out as disabled. It’s about time. I’m a 25-year-old with 80-year-old bones. Inside my mother’s womb, I developed mostly normally. But my legs didn’t show much growth in the sonograms; there was a mutation lurking on the long arm of the COL2A1 gene of chromosome 12, involved in making Type II collagen . One letter switched in the gene, an amino acid wrongly substituted , cartilage forming too tender within me. My rare bone disorder , spondyloepiphyseal dysplasia, causes collagen in the joints to form incorrectly, short stature, arthritis, neck instability, scoliosis, joint inflammation, chronic pain, and other issues. It’s actually a form of dwarfism; I just happen to be on the taller end of the spectrum at 4’6”. Facing all of this, knowing at a young age that my bones would deteriorate much quicker than my friends, wasn’t scary. I’d need joint replacements and surgeries. I knew my path. I learned to love my body for what it is and all I can do, even with pain. For many ...