Dating as an amputee

This topic is a tough one! Why? Because I personally struggled with this for a long, long time.

I remember my first crush. Matt in 4th grade. I was convinced we’d get married. By 8th grade, I started thinking about dating in a more real way and what it might actually look like for me.

💔 The Early Years: Clunky Legs and Soul Crushing Friend-Zones

I had plenty of girl friends, but the boys? They mainly talked to me about my girl friends, asking if "Kelly" liked them... That was soul crushing.

Here’s the thing: I went to private school, so I was going through all those awkward preteen changes with the same kids I was in kindergarten with. I had a clunky leg this whole time—and believe me, they’ve come a long way in my 30 years! I had to learn a new language(came to America at 4.5), figure out this new fake leg, and try to attract the opposite sex with this same group of kids? I figured high school would be my time to shine!

I had spent too many years defensive about my leg and apprehensive about my friendships. I also struggled with figuring out a lot of other health issues. The summer before high school, I talked with my cousin about my struggles and how they seemed to affect the way people viewed me. I wanted to change all that. She said this was the perfect time to “reinvent” myself. To choose the Angelina I was going to be.

👑 Reinvention and the Crushing Blow

Freshman year, I got asked out by the boy all my friends thought was so cute, haha. I had nailed this new Angelina. I was finally feeling like me! I was the class clown, I was making so many friends, and really enjoying this new me.

That first week of bliss, however, ended with him breaking up with me in front of the entire baseball team at my locker. I thought it was the end of the world.

I also thought I had ruined my only chance. Because, honestly, this is how I thought of myself: damaged goods. If my first boyfriend ever didn’t stick it out for a week how was i ever going to find my forever?!

Despite this, I absolutely loved the High School Angelina I had “created.” Yet, I still struggled in the romance department. I watched all my friends get dates to dances, and I tagged along as the solo funny girl. I talked with one of my good guy friends one night and asked him to be blunt with me about my lack of dates. His response?

He said, “I just don’t see you that way.”

I felt like middle-school Angelina all over again. It was really frustrating to be “friend-zoned.” I was funny, popular, made the swim and basketball teams, and got great grades. But I just wasn’t viewed as “dateable.” This took a serious hit on my self-image.

✨ The First Real Connection

Then, my senior year, I met a boy at a party. He asked for my number, and we quickly started dating.

For the first time, I felt genuinely seen. He told me I was pretty. He wanted to take me on dates. I had finally experienced what it felt like to be chosen, and it mattered more than I realized at the time. We dated my entire senior year, and that relationship helped me grow in ways I didn’t fully understand until later.

When summer came, I was accepted to a college out of state. I knew this was another turning point. Breaking up with him was one of the hardest decisions I had made, not because the relationship was wrong, but because it was safe. A part of me was terrified that walking away meant giving up my only chance at love.

But I had grown. I knew I deserved more than holding onto something just because it proved I was dateable. Choosing to leave wasn’t a failure. It was the first time I trusted myself enough to believe there would be other loves, other versions of me, and a future bigger than what felt comfortable.

⛰️ Hitting Rock Bottom and Climbing Back Up

Freshman year of college, I stayed single. I was overwhelmed and trying to figure out this new life. I made lots of friends and was still the class clown. I watched my friends effortlessly get chased by boys. I told myself I wasn’t “looking,” and that’s why I wasn’t being chased. But it hurt, again.

Then, I almost died.

I was in a coma for 8 days and ended up dropping out of college to focus on recovery. I moved back home, felt absolutely terrible, and was deeply depressed. My friends, my future—they were all back at school. I was taking a major step back.

⚙️ The Pivot: Uncovering the Truth

When i made it back to school i was focused on catching up. i was focused on getting my gpa up and on making up for the lost time. It was during this period that I finally gained that 'f*ck it' attitude. I was focused on my future and stopped caring about the cosmetic leg cover. I honestly gave up on dating because i felt like i needed to put all my attention into getting back to the Angelina i had worked so hard to become.

I started wearing my leg uncovered, proudly showing the carbon, because I was done hiding the truth of who I was.

🏊 The Moment I Stopped Looking

Then I met a boy. The first words he ever said to me were, “you’re funny.” I can’t explain how much of a compliment that was. I had worked hard to become the funny girl. It was a huge part of my identity. I wasn’t the girl with the fake leg. I was the girl people enjoyed being around because I could always make them laugh. For that to be the first thing he noticed and said out loud really mattered to me.

He ran in the same circles I had become part of, and not long after we met, he asked me out. I told him no. Remember, I was focused on catching up. He kept asking anyway. Eventually, I agreed to a bike ride to a nearby park, more of a “friendly hangout” than a date.

He told me to bring a swimsuit because there was a lake we could swim in if we wanted. Very apprehensively, I put my suit on under my clothes. The bike ride was fun, but when we got to the lake, I shut down.

He already knew I had a fake leg. What he didn’t know, and what most people aren’t privy to, is that my body is riddled with scars. I have many health issues from birth that led to countless surgeries over the years. It was a hot, humid Midwest day, and he immediately took his shirt off and ran toward the lake. I sat on the edge of the dock, awkwardly talking to him while he swam.

This boy addressed the elephant on the dock. He asked why I wasn’t getting in, and I tried to skirt around the answer. He looked at me and basically told me I was being stupid and that I should feel more comfortable in my own skin. That might sound harsh, but it was exactly what I needed. He wasn’t minimizing my feelings, he was refusing to let my insecurities run the moment. He knew how to meet me where I was, not with pity or reassurance, but with humor and honesty.

Teasing and making jokes has always been my love language. I don’t need to be handled delicately. I need someone who can call me out, make me laugh, and remind me of who I am when I start shrinking myself. In that moment, he communicated with me in the way I needed most.

I jumped in wearing my bikini and kissed that boy.

Nick is now my husband. Standing in that lake, I realized this was the kind of love I deserved. Someone who could challenge my insecurities, communicate in a way that actually reached me, and still make me feel beautiful when my scars were showing.