DisLabeled, Not Disabled

I’m not disabled. What I am—like so many others—is DisLabeled.

Gravity and I? We have a love-hate relationship. She’s clingy and constantly invites me to hug the ground—unannounced. Steady hands? Overrated. Mine come with built-in special effects every single second.

My spoon and I have commitment issues. It rarely stays put. And yes, I drop things more often than the average person—but I always make it theatrical. If I’m going down, it’s going to be Oscar-worthy.

And golf? Cerebral Palsy just adds flair to my swing. Every shot’s a surprise—even to me. But spoiler alert: I crushed Varsity all through high school and still sink putts like a boss. CP doesn’t slow me down—it just makes the game more interesting… or absolutely infuriating, depending on how rebellious my arms feel that day.

But here’s the point of all these quips:

I’m not denying the label—I’m redefining it.

One clever comeback.
One advocacy moment.
One raw, intentional truth at a time.

Because I’m not less.

I’m more.
More than a diagnosis.
More than assumptions.
More than what some people think they see.

I’m not DisLabeled.

I’m just Rebranded—and I’m rocking it.