By: Ali Elizabeth Turner
In the past couple of weeks of this brand-new year, I have had two very different conversations with two people who are smart, attractive, giving, talented, accomplished, have a measure of “brand recognition,” and have been through hell with their bodies. Out of a desire to protect their privacy as well as my own hide, I am not going to divulge anything past that. That’s their story, and it’s my job and privilege to honor that.
What struck me in the conversations, however, was the vast difference in their approach as to how they view their circumstances. Neither was in any way exaggerating their physical pain or their experience. There had been genuine and severe loss, to be sure. In both cases there had been a huge reduction in their ability to travel — something they both love and have done extensively. Both had been athletic and adventurous. There was about a three-decade difference in age, and it was surprising to me as to who seemed determined to still grab life by the horns and wrestle it to the ground now that they were ridin’ in a whole new rodeo in a whole new arena.
I have thought long and hard about limitations. Lord knows I have sabotaged myself ‘til the cows come home with the things I have allowed myself to think about others and myself, and the cessation of that thinking is something I am determined to keep after, even if progress most often seems microscopic. I will, by crazy grace, “grow a new brain” until I head Home. I have done what we all do—make excuses instead of progress: wash, rinse and repeat. I have purchased several one-way tickets to Self-Pity City flying first class, and then reluctantly hitched a ride back home to face down my stuff once again. And then, I came face-to-face (on Facebook) with a young woman who is a gymnast, an accomplished one at that, and she literally has no legs.
Jen Bricker-Bauer not only was born with no legs, she was left abandoned at the hospital at birth. She was adopted by a family who loved her dearly and challenged her to be and do her best, whatever that was. So, she went on to become someone who could do long floor-exercise tumbling passes with back handsprings being the centerpiece. WITH NO LEGS. LANDING OVER AND OVER ON HER STUBS. She is also a mind-boggling aerialist in the style of Cirque du Soleil, and her physical strength and grace are dazzling.
In a true twist of fate, the kind of stuff that you just can’t make up, Jen found out much later in life that her biological sister was Dominique Moceanu, who happened to be–wait for it– an Olympic gold-medal winning gymnast, and had been Jen’s inspiration since childhood. I think it’s safe to say that we have found the walking fulfillment of the long-standing “nurture/ nature” debate, and I’ll leave you to decide which side you are on.
Jen has gone on to be a NYT best-selling author of Everything Is Possible: Finding The Faith And Courage To Follow Your Dreams. She is an in-demand speaker, a believer, a wife, and a mother. And while I cannot determine how other people should navigate their setbacks, what Jen did for me was breathe in a whole new commitment to “land on my stubs,” and “stick” that landing in 2026.
