Being disabled is different for everyone. Living with an invisible disability leads to a new type of discrimination and self doubt. Living without an official diagnosis leads to even more self doubt. In my home state of Missouri, getting diagnosed with Ehlers Danlos as an adult is by definition, impossible. Being in the midwest, it is no surprise that specialists don't have us as their first choice, so while all of my doctors are completely convinced, it's very likely I will never have the privileges and accommodations that come with an official diagnosis. Being disabled, and living with the side effects of my condition has taught me many things. I have learned that many places are not accessible to people who require mobility aids, many doctors will downplay your symptoms, especially if you are a woman, and some doctors will refuse to treat you because they do not want to open up the can of worms that is chronic pain with no injury. But being in the community is a beautiful thing. I have met other former athletes who deal with the same pain I do. I've met people who taught me how to use a cane. I was given wonderful resources, a support system, and new friends. I've learned that disability is nothing to be ashamed of, and using mobility aids is nothing to hide. Nobody is perfect, of course. In high school, I found it annoying that they only let students with an official diagnosis use the elevator, but I did understand why. Anyone can say that they need to use it, and if there is no system in place to verify, the people who need it will get less access to it. I believe that everyone deserves an official diagnosis. Not just a doctor saying that they know the diagnosis, but cannot provide an actual diagnosis. This prevents many people in my situation, especially in rural areas, from getting treatment, since there is no official documentation. Being disabled has made me realize that our world is not nearly accessible enough, even though we, as a society, have the means to do so, we just make the choice not to help anyone who isn't what the governments, both local and federal, view as "worth it". I learned that our healthcare system is deeply flawed, and needs to be completely rebuilt, from the ground up. Everyone deserves access to healthcare, even if they live in a small town, a hundred miles from the closest hospital.

Being part of the LGBTQIA+ community can be difficult at times. I have known myself since I can first remember. While I did not have a word to describe my feelings for many years, I now do. Bisexual. It has always been treated as a dirty word, or an invitation for extremely invasive and uncomfortable comments. I have been in and out of the closet since I was eleven. Funnily enough, my parents kept forgetting, so I had to repeatedly come out. But the fact is, they didn't forget. They denied my identity, in hopes I wouldn't come out to anyone else, in a mislead attempt to protect me from discrimination and bullying. This of course, did not work. I was found out, and harassed constantly. On the other hand, as a straight passing woman, I am often told by others in my community that I am not welcome in these spaces, since I have dated men, and clearly, I must be saying I'm part of the community for the attention. On both ends of the spectrum, there is rampant biphobia. Most straight people assume I'm gay, and most LGBTQIA+ people assume I'm straight. This makes me, and many other people of various orientations feel excluded and unwelcome. It is no secret that asexual, aromantic, pansexual, nonbinary, and many others feel unwelcome, as they are shown in media that they are not "queer enough". I have dealt with this feeling for many years, and it has taken a lot for me to feel like I am enough. Nobody has the same experience with the community. It is far different from fifty years ago. The community has a very distinct culture, and a vibrant nightlife scene. I am fortunate enough to live very close to one of the many "gay districts" of my city, so there's no shortage of people I can sympathize with. Being LGBTQIA+ is not just about sexual and romantic orientation, or gender identity. It is about coming together as a community, helping protect our own, providing mutual aid, and trying our best to make everyone feel welcome and accepted. But, with the changing of the times, and the fact that many of us are only interacting with other LGBTQIA+ people online, many of which are young, we are beginning to forget our elders, and that the first pride was a riot. Our community is divided by "hot takes" made for the sole purpose of dividing us. While I am disappointed in the fact that many people in the community are being intentionally excluded, I am still proud of my experiences, and the community as whole.

My favorite Nintendo game will always be Mario Party. I don't have full mobility in my hands, so I'm automatically trash at Smash Bros, even though I do enjoy it, and I'm no good at Mario Kart. For the longest time as a child, I would play Mario Kart on the Wii, but growing up as an only child made it a bit boring when none of my friends were around, and downright frustrating when I lost some of the mobility in my hands. Mario Party, however, was pretty accommodating in that respect. While a few on the mini games are fairly difficult for me, I can still be on a somewhat even playing field with my friends and cousins. Now, with the Nintendo Switch, I can play my games all the time, anywhere. I'm no stranger to pulling it out with my cousins in a waiting room, or on long car rides. Mario Party made gaming accessible to me again, and sometimes I forget how incredibly important it is to have everything as accessible as possible. My favorite moment from the game is when I was playing with a couple friends in my exes apartment, and I was finally able to beat everyone in a mini game. For most people, that's not a hug feat, but to me, that was a pretty big deal.

I have only recently discovered Chappell Roan, but her music has still impacted me quite a bit. She hails from my home state, which isn't well known for having many music artists. As a woman, a Missourian, and a member of the LGBTQIA+ community, I am a fan. While Missouri is not at all well known for modern musicians, it is also not well known for its treatment of LGBTQIA+ individuals. I have known exactly who I am since I could first remember. At the time, I didn't have a word for it, because no kindergartner has a word for when they have a crush on their best friend. As an adult, however, I am very aware of the word. Bisexual. It is not a bad or dirty word, but where I grew up, and live, it is treated as such, only said in hushed tones, and being constantly asked extremely invasive questions. This scared me, and many other peers back into the closet. Chappell Roan showed me that it's totally fine to be out and proud about it. That I don't owe anyone an explanation of why I like who I like, how I knew I was bi when I was so young, or a whether I like men or women more. I can simply exist. She showed me that no one has to pander to heterosexual audiences in order to be accepted. There's a whole community out there with open arms.

I am Sophia, I am an incoming freshman at Stephens College in Columbia, Missouri, and I am twenty-three years old. Of course, this is not my first freshman year. I graduated from high school in 2019. I was by no means a perfect student, but I was still pretty good. I was also in an abusive relationship at the time, which impacted my mental health, for the worst. I'm opening up my life to you today, because I need you, the reader, to understand why I am where I am today. While I was suffering in this relationship, I managed to pass all of my classes, play in the marching band, figure skate, be active in pep band, and winter guard. I had no time to process what was going on, and how wrong it was. In May of 2019, I graduated, and on The 4th of July, I celebrated my own independence. That fall, I decided to start college. I went to a lovely school, Columbia College, in Columbia, Missouri. Of course, being who I am, I still hadn't told anyone what had happened to me. I was embarrassed, and scared that I would be blamed. My mental health was taking a nosedive, and my grades were reflecting that. A few weeks into school, I started dating someone else. I didn't want to date him, but he wouldn't let me leave. My grades got worse, and I was coping with a stalker. During my spring semester, I had pulled myself together, and I was off to a pretty good start. I was still an emotional hostage to the man I was dating, but I could live with it, until he paid off his friends to spread lies about me, and stop talking to me, so that he would be the only person I could talk to. It's no surprise that when the spring semester ended, I decided to take an indefinite hiatus from education. I needed to work on myself, and get to a stable mental state. I worked full time for four years, three of which as a pharmacy technician. Now, I am in a wonderful state, and I have full confidence to return to school. Returning to school doesn't just mean getting a degree to me. It means that I can have job stability, I can prove to myself and my abusers that nothing can hold me down, and I can advocate for other young people in similar situations, and prove to them that they can escape, and they deserve so much better. I am studying Biology, with an emphasis in research. I have always been fascinated by life itself, how our world came to support life. My dream is to open a research center, to help young girls find the same passion for science that I did when I was young.

Each of the main three Spider-Men has a special place in my heart. Tobey, for being the original. Andrew, for his humor. Finally, Tom, for a more modern portrayal. I always felt a closeness, in a sense, to Tom Hollands Spider-Man. At the release of his first film, Spider-Man was the same age as me, having a lot of the same struggles. Making it to class on time, sneaking out, and coming up with bad excuses as to where he was, and maintaining a good work/life balance. I felt seen. Of course, I never led a double life, especially note as a superhero, no matter how hard I hope. I'm no physics genius, and I am far from athletic due to my bad knees. But like a someone may live through their friends, I lived through Peter Parker. He made me forget, even for just a moment, how much my back hurt, how sick I was, and how the world had hurt me. Tom Hollands Peter Parker also just felt like a more accurate portrayal. With no disrespect to Tobey and Andrew, Tom looked like the age that the character was portrayed as. It simply felt more authentic, that someone cast as a teenager actually looked like a teenager. All of this to say, Tom Holland stole the show. His trilogy broke the mold, by bringing in the previous actors, and their cast to wreak havoc on his world. Toms Spider-Man had to make an unthinkable sacrifice. To have the world forget who he is, to lose everyone he loves, while they still walk the world around him. To see their faces, but know that they won't recognize him. To know that their lives will go on without him. This is what truly makes him the best. Tobey and Andrew did not have to portray someone making such an earth shattering sacrifice. They walked, so Tom could run.

Over the last twelve years, I've watched a lot of anime. From Soul Eater to My Hero Academia, I've seen a lot. My favorite, however, is Shaman King. When I was a young child, my mother and I went thrift shopping quite frequently. At one of the local shops that has since been closed, I found the first manga for Shaman King. I had never heard of anime or manga up until that point. I brought it home, read it, and fell in love. I searched for it on every streaming service that had existed at that point, even on the old Netflix DVD. I couldn't find it. Of course, in my eleven years of wisdom, I made my journey to YouTube, and I found it. The show was only in the top right corner of the screen, and the very top was cut off, but I had found it. It was even better than the manga. The art style was incredible, the story was a formula I'd never seen before, and I haven't seen since. In the years since, a reboot has been made. For the longest time, I thought I was one of the only people who had discovered it, and now I know there's a whole community that loves it. I have yet to watch the reboot. I'm worried that it won't do the original justice, even though I know it will.

Success is different for everyone. For some, success is getting out of bed in the morning without hitting snooze. For others, success is making their first million. For me, success is perseverance. Of course, success never comes without failure, though we may try to hide it. Failure is not something to be ashamed of. It is not a defining factor of our lives if it doesn't have to be. One of my greatest successes was born of one of my most painful failures. When I was in high school, I was in an abusive relationship, and it affected me in ways that my sixteen year old self couldn't imagine. Two years later, almost two months after graduation, on the Fourth of July, I created my own Independence Day, and escaped. As of writing this, tomorrow is the fifth anniversary of my freedom. That was my first notable success. While I had escaped, I still had many scars, all invisible. I decided to go to college anyways. I went to a small school in Columbia, Missouri. None of my peers from high school, church, or work went there. It was perfect. I had a fresh start, where no one knew how badly I had been burned. Like any wounded animal, though, stress built, and I slipped. My mental health was at a net zero, for all purposes. I wouldn't talk to anyone if I didn't have to, I never left my dorm, and I barely ate. Of course, my classes and grades were affected. In 2020, the world was locked away. Everyone was stuck in their own four walls, with the whole world on a small screen, but still so alone. With online classes, I did worse. Eventually, the semester ended, and I decided not to go back until my mental health was stable again, and I could put my heart and soul into my studies. For the last four years, I have been working full time trying to get back on my feet from all the money I had lost because of my first year in school. This fall, for the first time in years, I am finally able to feel confident throwing myself into my education, and invest in my future, without worrying that the money I use for that goal will be lost to the times. This has been one of my greatest successes, and of course, it had a world of hardships to go along with it. I am not the same person I was five years ago, and I am certainly not the person who I was in 2016. I am brave now. I can stand up for myself, I am my best advocate. I will make sure that this success is not just my own. I am going to do everything in my power to make sure I can help other people in the same situation escape, because no one deserves to feel weak, small, and helpless. I am going to help people be brave.