What happens when the people responsible for helping you move forward stop listening? You learn how powerful your own voice can become.

In this episode of the BAWarrior Podcast, I step back from the idea of constantly pushing forward to talk about one of the most important skills every amputee must develop: advocating for yourself.

Self-advocacy has been a major part of my journey since long before my amputation. After tearing my MCL while preparing for my second-degree black belt test, I endured five years, ten surgeries, increasing pain, and complications caused by arthrofibrosis. Each surgery brought a new doctor, a new explanation, and another retelling of my medical history. Eventually, I realized I could no longer rely on someone else to connect every piece of the puzzle for me.

I began reading my surgical reports, researching unfamiliar medical terms, writing down questions, and paying closer attention to what my body was telling me. That process helped uncover the condition behind many of my complications and eventually gave me the courage to advocate for the amputation that changed my life.

That need to speak up did not end after surgery. It became even more important.

As amputees, we depend heavily on our prosthetists, especially after our surgeons are no longer involved in our everyday care. A prosthetic leg will never feel exactly like the limb we lost, so we must balance realistic expectations with the knowledge that constant pain should not be accepted as normal. Discomfort, adjustment, and awkwardness can be part of learning a prosthesis. Debilitating pain is a sign that something may need further investigation.

I share how ongoing socket pain led my prosthetist and me to continue experimenting, collaborating, and searching for answers instead of giving up. Eventually, an MRI revealed a large neuroma that no socket adjustment could fix. That experience reminded me that good care requires teamwork. My prosthetist brought his knowledge, but I had to clearly communicate what I was feeling and continue trusting my instincts.

Supportive medical teams are a must in your positive care and experience as an amputee

Living as an amputee also carries a daily mental load. Some mornings my leg feels strong and ready for everything I have planned. Other days, discomfort, swelling, skin irritation, or a poor fit can completely change the day. Even more than seven years after my amputation, I still have to remain flexible and listen to my body.

My message throughout this episode is simple: do not give up on yourself. Ask questions. Bring someone with you when you need support. Find professionals who are willing to listen, collaborate, and fight beside you. You are more than an insurance claim, a medical chart, or a difficult case.

My support system

Your voice matters. Your mobility matters. Your future is worth fighting for.

Your journey does not have to be walked alone. If you are struggling to feel heard, searching for answers, or simply needing a community that understands the realities of amputee life, I encourage you to reach out.

Join me and other women amputees during our weekly Amped Women virtual chats, where we come together to share, listen, encourage, and support one another. And if you are ready to move beyond survival, set meaningful goals, and take your next steps with accountability, Momentum may be the community you have been looking for.

Follow the BAWarrior Podcast, subscribe on YouTube, and connect with me on social media so you do not miss future episodes, live conversations, and community gatherings.

Most importantly, keep asking questions, keep trusting what your body is telling you, and never be afraid to use your voice.

You are worth advocating for. Your mobility matters. Your dreams matter. And you do not have to give up.

Have a beautifully blessed week ahead and as always,

Be Healthy,

Be Happy,

Be YOU!!!

Much love,

What happens when the life you want to return to no longer works the way you remember it?

After amputation, we are often told that we can get back to doing the things we love, and I believe that is true. But I have learned that those activities may look, feel, and function differently than they did before. Recovery is not always about returning to the person we used to be. Sometimes, it is about reimagining what life can look like now.

Losing a limb changes more than our appearance. It changes our balance, center of gravity, movement patterns, energy levels, and the way we approach everyday activities. Even something described as being “as easy as riding a bike” can become complicated. Getting onto the bike, positioning a prosthetic foot, balancing, starting, stopping, and reacting quickly all require new strategies.

The same is true for adaptive fitness, hiking, running, skiing, traveling, and even standing for long periods. Our bodies operate under different physics after limb loss, and we often use more energy to complete the same activity.

I think of energy as currency. Every activity makes a withdrawal, so I have to be intentional about how I spend it. If I know I have plans with family or friends, I may need to skip the gym, shorten another activity, or rest beforehand so I have enough energy to be present.

I also have to protect both my residual limb and my sound limb. Socket fit, skin irritation, phantom pain, neuromas, fatigue, and compensation can change how I move from one day to the next. There are days when pushing forward is appropriate, and there are days when pulling back is the wisest choice I can make.

Wisdom is not weakness.

Resting, using a mobility aid, shortening a workout, or changing a goal does not mean I am failing. It means I am protecting my body for the next twenty, thirty, or forty years. I have learned to ask myself, “Is it worth it?” Is the activity worth the pain, skin damage, lack of sleep, or extended recovery that may follow?

Success after amputation must also be personal. I cannot measure myself against who I was before surgery, another amputee on social media, or a Paralympic athlete with years of specialized training. My success may mean hiking a shorter trail, trusting a running blade, completing half a day of skiing, or simply showing up and moving my body.

Reimagining life after amputation means experimenting, adapting, learning from setbacks, and creating new goals. Progress is rarely linear, but every step still matters.

My life did not end with amputation. A new chapter began, and I get to decide what comes next.

Think about something you have been trying to return to. Are you measuring your progress against your old life, or are you giving yourself permission to approach it differently?

Choose one goal this week and reimagine it. Adjust the pace, change the method, ask for support, and create a version that works for the body you have today.

Stop chasing your old normal. Start building a life that supports who you are becoming.

Keep moving forward, dear Warrior! One step at a time!

And as always,

Be Healthy,

Be Happy,

Be YOU!!!

Much love,

Have you ever started making progress with your fitness, only to be stopped by skin irritation, socket discomfort, phantom pain, fatigue, or an injury? As an above-knee amputee who loves working out, hiking, skiing, and staying active, I understand how frustrating it can feel when your body suddenly forces you to pull back.

In this episode of the BAWarrior Podcast, I’m talking about how we can pursue adaptive fitness without burning ourselves out physically or mentally.

As amputees, our journey is rarely a straight line. It often feels like two steps forward and one step back. We may receive a new prosthesis, begin walking confidently, and think everything is finally falling into place, only to experience discomfort, skin breakdown, pain, swelling, or a change in socket fit. These setbacks do not mean we have failed. They are part of learning how to live, move, and grow in a body that continues to change.

Burnout is not always caused by a lack of motivation. Sometimes it comes from the physical demands of walking with a prosthesis, protecting our sound limb, managing phantom sensations, and constantly thinking through every movement. The mental load of being an amputee is real. Curbs, ramps, stairs, uneven ground, exercise machines, and even getting onto a bicycle can require additional thought and energy.

That is why recovery must be considered part of training.

In this conversation, I share the importance of sleep, hydration, nutrition, stretching, rest days, and regularly checking the skin on our residual limb. I also discuss the danger of comparing ourselves to people on social media. Our progress should not be measured against someone else’s body, abilities, or journey. The better questions are: Am I stronger than I was yesterday? Is my balance improving? Am I walking with more confidence? Is everyday life becoming easier?

Adaptive fitness should support our independence. It can begin with practical movements such as standing longer, carrying groceries, getting up from the floor, playing with children or pets, or walking around the house with greater intention. These small accomplishments build confidence, momentum, and a positive mental attitude.

I also talk honestly about respecting our prosthesis. Some days the fit will feel great, and other days it will not. Heat, sweat, swelling, weight fluctuations, and activity levels can all affect how our socket feels. Listening to those warning signs is not weakness. Pulling back when necessary may prevent an injury or wound that could keep us out of our prosthesis for weeks.

My challenge to you this week is simple: choose one positive, adaptive goal. Take a few more steps, practice your balance, stand a little longer, or give yourself the recovery day your body needs.

The goal is not to prove how hard you can push today. The goal is to build the strength, wisdom, and confidence to keep moving forward for years to come.

Move forward, Warriors, even if that means that today you rest! Tomorrow is a new day, rest and rise up with even more conviction!

Have a beautiful week, and as always,

Be Healthy,

Be Happy,

Be YOU!!!

Much love,