I have EDS.

It doesn't sound like a huge thing to say. I talk about it very openly. But, as my husband pointed out to me, I tell other people often. I rarely tell myself.

So I'm testing out a new mantra. "I have EDS." I'm not weak. I'm certainly not lazy. I'm not a hypochondriac. I have EDS.

Skipping aerial this week because I'm in too much pain feels like a big setback. My ever supportive husband gave me a pep talk as I curled up on the couch angry at my own body for once again letting me down. He pointed out that it doesn't help anyone for me to look at it as not being able to do what I should be able to do. In fact, because I have EDS, the fact that I ever get to the top of the silks is amazing. Instead of looking at each time I can't do it as a huge loss, I need to look at each time I can do it as an amazing feat. I have EDS.

When I work with kids all day and come home drained, aching, in severe pain, and wondering if I can really work as a pediatric PT for a full career span, it's not a time to get upset that I may need to one day in the far future decrease my work hours. It's a time to congratulate myself on making it through another intense, physically grueling day in a profession that many individuals with EDS only experience from the patient perspective.

I have EDS. And after a long, hard day of work, it's okay for me to take a seat on the full bus. I may look young and healthy on the outside, but appearances can be deceiving. Everything hurts.

I have EDS. It's a fact. It's true. It affects me every day of my life.

It doesn't mean I can't do anything. It just means I don't have to do everything.

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