 When I brought my prosthetic leg home I expected to feel utter joy and elation because oh my god I finally have a leg I can learn to walk again. I'd seen so many videos of amputees like sobbing tears of joy taking their first steps and it was so cool to see and I expected that to be me but it wasn't. What I felt instead was a lot of fear a lot of frustration and honestly a complete lack of connection to this object that was suddenly strapped on to the end of me. I wanted to love it. I wanted to embrace it and rock it and just be totally cool but I wasn't. At one point I wrote a letter to it as if we were in an arranged marriage being like I know we have to live together but I don't know you and I don't like you and it took me weeks and months of using this to let go of some of that resentment to learn to accept it to be okay with this being a part of my life. I still have moments of frustration but now I think it's pretty damn cool and it lets me do things like walk my dogs and go for hikes and stand up on my own two feet.