"Are your legs just in a bit of a mess?" Child aged 5

I am hesitant to write this blog, partly because it's quite an emotional one but also because I don't want my next statement to be seen as an amazing feet of acceptance. Here goes: if I were offered a 'cure' for Cerebral Palsy or a magic potion that would make me able to walk I wouldn't take it. I realise that for a lot of able-bodied people this seems very strange but I wouldn't. This does not mean either that I don't find being disabled incredibly indescribably hard at times and always will but you see being disabled in a very complex thing. I have felt every emotion possible connected with having Cerebral Palsy and they are not always linked to finding things difficult.
When I was young, physios suggested that I have Botox in my legs to reduce my spasticity which I refused, not only because it was a physio's suggestion to which all my responses were no but because I find the idea of numbing my legs and therefore my condition hugely upsetting. I've always been protective over my legs because they are my emotional radar and I love that fact. I love that all I have to do is look at my legs to assess my mood. I am uniquely connected with them and this connection is something that I'd hate to lose. I would hate for them to be still because they never are and I wouldn't feel like myself.  I believe that for whatever reason, I was meant to have Cerebral Palsy, that my body is wired this way naturally and there is no need to alter my neurology. I think being disabled has given me insight into a world that I wouldn't have known and keeps me humble. I think the way that I relate to children is partly enhanced through experiences that I've had because I'm disabled. Most of all, I think there's a lot that needs to change in terms of how we view disability and I'd rather change this than myself. Cerebral Palsy lives in me and we have a nice arrangement (most of the time).