(Essay #5 in the Personal Survival & Self-Authorship Series for House of Anan) The body has always been a stage, one I never quite got to direct. Doctors, strangers, even family tried to hand me scripts: “Be normal.” “Push through.” “Look better.” “Pretend nothing hurts.” But my body? She had her own lines. And she delivered them with the stubborn conviction of a diva who refuses to stick to the program. Fatigue. Pain. Swelling. Scars. Crashes at the worst possible times.