Born a Fighter

When you hear the phrase “born a fighter,” most people imagine strength — but my definition is different. I imagine the little girl who was not expected to live beyond 24 hours — and did anyway. I think of a baby who proved doctors wrong simply by staying alive. I picture a baby girl who refused to quit before her life had even begun, even though the odds were stacked against her from the very start. Even in those first days, alongside fear and uncertainty, there was still hope, love, and a stubborn will to fight. To me, that quiet refusal to give up is the truest definition of a fighter.

To me, being a fighter isn’t about constant battle or toughness, it’s about resilience and a strong will to never give up. It’s about moving forward anyway not letting blindness or OCD stop me from living my life.

As I’ve grown older, my understanding of what it means to be a fighter has evolved. It has shifted from literally fighting for my life to being strong and courageous; no longer hiding my disability or letting OCD rule me, and instead finding my voice and sharing my story to encourage and help others. Looking back, I don’t just see survival, I see persistence and determination, and that same fighting spirit is still alive in me today.

Today, my life is less about survival and more about living fully. Living fully, for me, means using my cane with confidence, showing up authentically, engaging in everyday life without hiding, and choosing joy even in the face of challenges. I survived and now I live boldly, doing my best to live each day to the fullest.