Every year on my birthday, I have some kind of injury. Whether it's my chronic knee problem sky rocketing, a pulled tendon or some kind of sprain, I seem to always need doctoring.
In the end though, it's not really a stretch. It's now expected of me that I be injured at least 50% of my days because I, Tes, am a klutz.

I'd like to start the blame with my forever gangly limbs. I've always been tall and skinny and very out of control of my arms and legs. I've always had terrible coordination and have more than once caused injuries by simply not keeping a close eye on the proximity of my hands to noses or cheeks. Now, 18 finally, I have only partially grown into my body it seems, as I still trip over my feet and accidentally knock things over without noticing it.

Next I point a finger at my allergies. They have a tendency of wreaking havoc as well. In addition to going into sneezing fits because of dust, grass, cats, dogs, actually anything with fur, pollen, ragweed, and an assortment of other typical allergens, I can go into anaphylaxis from a type of cough suppresant. Oh. And I have an allergy to the cold which causes me to develop hives if my body temperature drops too low and my skin gets too cold. That one is the biggest party of all. Especially because I live in Montreal, Canada, which for the record is a pretty chilly place.

Finally it just seems like I have bad luck. About 20 minutes ago I dropped my computer on my nail bed of my big toe (inspiration to write this) and can't really walk right now without feeling like it's about to explode from the pressure. I'm also just recovering from my birthday injury curse of a pulled tendon in my wrist which if I absolutely need to walk, will not be so helpful if I do decide to use my cane (yes I own one now, along with my own pair of crutches). I have slipped and fallen on ice more times than I can count this week alone and have walked into a various assortment of poles, doors, door frames, and walls. 

So what is the point of all this you ask? Well, because even with the feud my body and I are engaged in daily, I am happy with it. I've always been one who had a nice false imagine of what I should be and my clumsiness has never helped me attain that. But growing older certainly does teach you a few things. While I could do without the pain, my habit of hurting myself has made sure that all of the people close to me will really help me out when I need it; there is no superficiality when it comes to a girl who can't walk. It's made me work on my resolve to get through whatever hand life gives me while still teaching me that it's okay to ask for help. It's shown me all of the people who truly do love and care about me.

In light of this, I ask you to look at your flaws and ask yourself- what is my body trying to show me? What can I learn by having this as a part of myself? In the end, you might be surprised to what you find.