『Be-YOU-tiful Adaptive Warrior』のカバーアート

Be-YOU-tiful Adaptive Warrior

Be-YOU-tiful Adaptive Warrior

著者: Angie Heuser
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概要

Breaking through mental and physical barriers to becoming your best self, living your best life.©2021 Be-YOU-tiful Adaptive Warrior Podcasting 衛生・健康的な生活
エピソード
  • Finding Your Place Again After Limb Loss
    2026/03/18
    “The Name on the Bottom of My Foot” Do you feel like you belong? That’s the question I want to start with today. Because if you’re an amputee, or walking alongside someone who is, you’ve probably felt that quiet, unsettling shift… that moment where life no longer feels like it fits the way it used to. Welcome back to BAWarrior Podcast, a space for resilience, healing, and living life amplified exactly as you are. I’m your host, Angie Heuser, and I’m walking this journey right alongside you as an above-knee amputee. This past week, I did something playful… but it turned into something deeply meaningful. I was outside, barefoot in the Arizona warmth, and I had my prosthetic off because I was using my running blade. And for whatever reason, I grabbed a marker and wrote the name “Andy” on the bottom of my prosthetic foot. If you’re a Toy Story fan, you already know the reference. Andy writes his name on the bottom of Woody’s boot, and later Buzz’s foot, as a symbol of belonging. It means those toys have a place. They matter. They are part of something bigger. And as soon as I wrote it… it hit me. Isn’t that exactly what we’re all searching for after limb loss? Because here’s the truth, amputation doesn’t just change your body. It changes your identity. It changes how you see yourself, how you move through the world, and how the world sometimes responds to you. For me, seven years ago when I chose to amputate, it felt like I was on a train that suddenly switched tracks without warning. I wasn’t going where I thought I would anymore. And the first real question became: Who am I now? Because I didn’t feel like I belonged in my old life the same way. Yes, I was still a wife, a mom, an athlete, but I also stood out in ways I never had before. From wearing gym shoes everywhere because of my prosthetic limitations, to navigating how people perceived me, to questioning where I fit socially… it shook my confidence and my identity. And what I’ve learned through talking to so many amputees is this: The surgery isn’t the hardest part. Learning to walk again isn’t even the hardest part. The hardest part… is figuring out where you belong now. That’s the piece no one really prepares you for. And that’s where this idea of Andy’s name became so powerful to me. Because in Toy Story, those toys aren’t afraid of being broken, they’re afraid of being forgotten. Of not having a place. Of not belonging anymore. And isn’t that what we feel sometimes too? But here’s the shift. Here’s where the warrior mindset comes in. Instead of asking, “Why did this happen to me?” I started asking, “What can I do with this?” That mindset changed everything. I began to see this journey not as an ending, but as a reinvention. I set goals. I pushed myself. I proved, to myself first, that I was still capable of living a full, meaningful life. And in that process, something bigger started to unfold. This podcast was born. Then the women’s amputee chat group. Then stepping into research, working with incredible teams at MIT and Harvard, participating in studies, surgeries, and innovations to help move our community forward. My Community, My friends who always have my back! I found purpose. And I realized something important: Belonging doesn’t come from going back to who you were. It comes from building who you are now. Our adversity creates our strength. Our identity evolves. Our scars tell our stories. And our community creates our belonging. That’s why community matters so deeply. Because sometimes, you won’t find belonging in the same places you used to. And that’s okay. We outgrow spaces. People come and go. Life shifts. But there is a place for you. Your new “toy box,” if you will. A place where people understand you. Support you. See you, not in spite of your journey, but because of it. That’s why I created the women’s chats. Because I saw how many women were struggling with identity, friendships, relationships, confidence… all of it. And they needed a space where they could just be real. Because you don’t have to do this alone. So here’s what I want you to do this week, your call to action. I want you to mark yourself. Not necessarily with a tattoo—but with something meaningful. A word. A symbol. Your name. A reminder. Put it somewhere you’ll see it every day—your mirror, your prosthetic, your journal, your car. Something that tells you: I belong. I have purpose. I matter. For me, it was “Andy.” It made me smile. It brought me back to special, warm memories with my kids. It gave me a sense of lightness and meaning all at once. But yours can be whatever speaks to you. Because on the hard days, and they will come, you need something to ground you. Something to remind you that even though life looks different… You are still part of this story. You are not forgotten. You are not alone. You are not ...
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    18 分
  • This Isn’t Enough For Me
    2026/03/11
    Advocating For Yourself is Self-Respect, Not Entitlement What if the life you want is waiting on the other side of one powerful decision, the decision to advocate for yourself? In this episode of the Be a Warrior Podcast, I dive into something that took me years to truly understand and learn how to practice: speaking up for myself. Advocating for yourself sounds simple, but in reality, it can be incredibly difficult especially when you’re navigating the medical world, recovering from trauma, or learning to live life in a completely new way after an amputation. If you’ve been following along with my recent episodes, you know that my word of the year is “trust.” Trusting the process. Trusting the journey. Trusting that even when things feel uncertain or uncomfortable, there is still growth happening beneath the surface. I’ve placed the word trust all around my home-on my bathroom mirror, near my bed, and in my office, so I see it every single day. It’s a reminder that the goals I’m working toward aren’t short-term. They’re marathon goals that require patience and faith in the process. But this week, I realized something important. Trust and advocacy go hand in hand. As an above-knee amputee, my journey through the medical world has been long and complicated. Before my amputation, I went through years of knee surgeries and saw nearly ten different doctors over a five-year period. In those early years, I did what many of us do, I trusted everything my doctors told me. I assumed they knew best, and I rarely questioned the direction we were taking. Now, to be clear, those doctors truly did their best. My complications were due to hyperscarring and my body’s unique response to surgery, not a lack of effort from the medical team. But what I didn’t realize early on was that trusting the professionals didn’t mean I shouldn’t also trust myself. Learning to advocate for myself took time. It came through experience, frustration, trial and error, and eventually learning to listen to my own body. Because here’s the truth: you know your body better than anyone else. Doctors understand the body in general, but they don’t live in your body. They don’t feel your pain, your discomfort, your limitations, or your goals. That insight only comes from you. This lesson becomes incredibly important when you’re an amputee. One of the most important relationships in an amputee’s life is the one you have with your prosthetist. Your prosthetic leg isn’t just equipment, it’s the tool that allows you to move through the world. And one thing every amputee learns sooner or later is this: if the socket isn’t right, nothing else matters. You can have the most advanced knee or ankle technology available, but if the socket doesn’t fit properly, your mobility will suffer. Your comfort will suffer. Your ability to live your life fully will suffer. That’s why clear communication and persistence are so important. Advocating means taking an active role in improving your life by clearly communicating your needs, your goals, and your concerns. It means explaining where pain occurs, when it happens, and how it affects your movement. Sometimes your prosthetist has to troubleshoot based on what you tell them because they can only observe from the outside. Every amputee is different. Even two people with the same level of amputation will have completely different experiences. Our bodies, our pain tolerance, our lifestyles, and our goals all vary. So if something isn’t working, we can’t be afraid to say it. My Team of professionals over the years. Take time to talk with them, communicate clearly, don’t settle. My PT’s who helped me prepare for amputation. My Prosthetist who has my back always and knows what I want to accomplish in life. My plastic surgeon who performed a TMR a year post amputation because the pain was too much! Sometimes we hesitate because we feel like the professional already tried their best. We don’t want to seem difficult or demanding. But when we settle instead of speaking up, we often end up limiting our own lives. The goal isn’t to take your prosthetic leg off halfway through the day because it hurts too much. The goal is to put it on in the morning and live your life fully until the evening. Advocating for yourself isn’t just about medical care, though. It also applies to the relationships and environments you allow in your life. I often tell my kids that friends come into our lives for seasons and reasons. Some friendships last forever, while others naturally fade as we grow and change. Advocating for yourself means recognizing when a relationship is supportive and when it might be holding you back. That doesn’t mean you abandon people carelessly. Healthy relationships require balance-a give and take. But it’s also okay to acknowledge when something no longer aligns with who you are becoming. During this episode, I share a quote from a book called ...
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    21 分
  • Trust The Process
    2026/03/04
    What if the very thing holding you back isn’t your body… but your fear? In this week’s episode of Be a Warrior Podcast, I’m coming to you in real time in the middle of something new, uncomfortable, and humbling. If you’ve been following along, you know last week I talked about life lessons from the ski slopes and how we have to stop looking down at our feet and start looking ahead at what’s coming. That lesson didn’t end on the mountain. It followed me straight into this week. As an above-knee amputee, I’ve learned that one of our earliest survival habits is looking down. When you first get your prosthesis, you watch it constantly. You can’t feel your foot, so you visually confirm it’s there. Every step is deliberate. Every movement is monitored. Adaptive skiing taught me the same lesson when I ski with one leg, my instinct is to look down at my ski to make sure it’s under me. But when you look down, you miss what’s coming at you. Hazards. Forks in the road. The bigger picture. And that’s not just skiing. That’s life. This week, I’m leaning into something I do every year choosing a word that will guide me. My word for 2026 is trust. And wouldn’t you know it? I was immediately handed an opportunity to live it. A prosthetics company from France, Hopper, reached out and asked me to try their running blade. Now, if you know me, you know I’ve used a running blade before. I even completed a 10K during my first year as an amputee adding socks mid-race as my limb volume shrank, hoping my leg would stay on. That race required grit. It required strength. But above all, it required trust. This new blade, however, is different. It required a different knee a microprocessor knee I’ve never used before. For six years I trusted my Ottobock C-Leg. Last September, I transitioned to the Össur Navi knee because it’s waterproof I can snorkel with it, travel with it, take it into the ocean. I love how it responds. I trust it. And now? I’m back at square one. New knee. New blade. New mechanics. New fear. New Blade- Trust the Process Hopper Running Blade Standing between parallel bars in an office, with people watching and cameras recording, I felt that old instinct creep back in. Tight muscles. Hesitation. Looking down. Wanting to be good immediately. Wanting to “perform.” Wanting to prove. But trust doesn’t grow in 30 minutes under fluorescent lights. So I brought the blade home. And here I am walking in it around my house. Stepping outside. Trying to “run,” which currently looks more like a gallop from a newborn deer. It’s awkward. It’s humbling. It’s vulnerable. And it’s exactly where growth happens. Here’s what I’ve realized: when we don’t trust, fear takes over. And fear tightens us up. We don’t relax into movement. We don’t open up. We don’t visualize success we visualize what could go wrong. What if I fall? What if I break my wrist? What if I embarrass myself in public? I’ve fallen before. On sidewalks. In front of cars that didn’t even stop to check on me. I’ve tripped on hikes. I’ve fallen skiing. And every single time, I learned something. Failure is feedback. On my last ski trip, I intentionally chose the harder side of the slope. Why? Because I realized if I wasn’t falling, I probably wasn’t pushing. I did fall exhausted from aggressive turns my muscles weren’t prepared for. And that fall told me exactly what I needed to strengthen. If we never risk failure, we never gather information. And that applies far beyond prosthetics or skiing. It applies to relationships. To careers. To faith. To stepping into something new. Trust requires us to first identify what we’re afraid of. For me, I had to name it: I’m afraid of falling. I’m afraid of being embarrassed. I’m afraid of injury that could set me back. Once I name the fear, I can address it. Once I address it, I can begin building trust. That’s my call to action for you this week. First: choose a word. A guiding word for your year. Maybe it’s trust. Maybe it’s courage. Maybe it’s surrender. Maybe it’s strength. But choose something intentional. Second: identify where fear is showing up in your life. Where are you tightening up? Where are you looking down instead of forward? If you’re a new amputee and you’re exhausted from thinking through every step — I see you. I remember the mental drain of early prosthetic use. I remember wondering if I’d ever be able to carry laundry without watching my foot. And now? I do it without thinking. But it took time. It took repetition. It took falling. It took lifting my chin. If you’re not wearing your prosthesis because you don’t trust it, the only way through is through. Wear it. Practice in your home. Slow your gait. Gradually lift your eyes forward. You will build that trust, one step at a time. And if your struggle isn’t physical — if it’s relational, emotional, spiritual — the...
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    26 分
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