Learning how to fold a disability into the many other parts of my life has made me uniquely aware of the ways in which I have either met, exceeded, or fallen short of expectations. Taking my first steps when I did placed me on the leaderboard, and doing well in school — heck, having friends and dates, even! — put me well into the running. I earned degrees, I built a career, I lived on my own. But like countless other disabled people, I know what it feels like to be judged for circumstances outside of my control, or details that won’t shift no matter how much effort is thrown at them. It’s taught me that a disability adds a complicated layer onto otherwise common experiences. Sometimes I can’t climb a single stair without a rail; sometimes I’m nowhere near walking down the aisle. Sometimes it feels like a fully accessible home is a myth; sometimes it seems like there’s no way I can afford to buy any house near my parents. We all live with ideas of what is “supposed to” happen at particular times in our lives, and most of us try our best with what we have. And in a disabled body, there’s usually nowhere else to exist but somewhere in the middle.