Finding Strength in the Fall

By Liv Benedetto

There are moments that split your life into two parts—before and after. For me, that moment came when I was thirteen, standing at the top of a ski slope. One jump—one second—changed everything. I landed wrong and fractured my spine, leaving me permanently paralyzed from the waist down.

I don’t remember the pain as much as I remember the silence that followed. The questions that crowded my mind. Will I walk again? Will I play sports again? Will people still see me the same way? Will I even recognize myself? In the years that followed, I didn’t just have to learn how to navigate life from a wheelchair—I had to figure out who I was when the world I had built suddenly collapsed. That was the most challenging moment of my life. But what I didn’t know then is that it would also become the foundation of the strongest version of me.

At first, high school felt like a test I wasn’t sure I could pass. I was the only student in a wheelchair. Everything felt like it came with a second layer of difficulty—getting to class, navigating crowds, trying to fit in when I stood out without trying. But challenge has a way of introducing you to your true self. Slowly, I realized that I didn’t need to hide the hardest parts of my journey. I could grow through them—and help others grow too.

So, I became a GLOW mentor—a guide for underclassmen. I didn’t want anyone to feel as alone as I once did. I shared my story not to be inspirational, but to be real. To remind others that you can break and still rebuild. That you can lose part of yourself and still find more than you ever imagined. That resilience is something you earn, not something you’re born with.

Then, I joined the cheerleading team. Not because I knew how it would work, but because I believed I could find a place there. It was scary to show up, unsure if I belonged. But that leap of faith turned into one of the greatest decisions of my life. Cheer gave me confidence, community, and a voice. It helped me rewrite what strength looks like.

But the biggest transformation came when I found adaptive tennis. At first, I was terrible at it. The speed, the coordination, the new rules of movement—it felt like starting from scratch. But that’s the thing: I was starting from scratch. And I got to choose how that new beginning would look. So, I kept showing up. I practiced. I failed. I grew. Eventually, I fell in love with it. Today, I’ve earned a spot on the adaptive tennis team at Clemson University, where I will compete at the collegiate level with dreams of one day reaching the Paralympics.

This experience didn’t just teach me how to adapt. It taught me how to lead. How to advocate. How to turn pain into purpose. It taught me empathy—not just for others, but for myself. It taught me how to deal with struggle and still embrace my disability.

It also helped shape my future. I plan to major in psychology, with a focus on helping individuals with mental disabilities. I know what it’s like to have your world turned upside down. I know how important it is to feel seen, supported, and believed in. I want to be that person for someone else—the way others were for me. My goal isn’t just to succeed in college. It is to use every part of my journey to help others navigate theirs.

What prepared me for college isn’t straight A’s or a perfect resume. It was learning how to keep going when everything in me wanted to give up. It was finding ways to participate, lead, and thrive in spaces not always built for people like me—and learning how to build better ones for those who come next. It was knowing how to manage independence, time, and mental health while dealing with daily obstacles that even my closest friends never see. It was learning how to speak up, ask for help, and offer it in return. These are the skills I’ll take with me—not just into college, but into life.

There is beauty in rebuilding. There is strength in softness. And there is most definitely power in showing up exactly as you are. I have lived through something that could have broken me. Instead, it shaped me into someone braver, kinder, and more determined than ever before.

The truth is, I wouldn’t trade my story. Not because it was easy, but because it taught me everything I needed to know about who I am and who I want to be. Now, I am more than ready to bring all of that into the next chapter—with purpose, passion, and the unshakable belief that absolutely nothing in this world can hold me back.

(Editor’s Note: Olivia Benedetto is a Roxbury resident and a high school senior at Scholars’ Academy. She has committed to Clemson University in South Carolina, where she is already an athlete on their Division I wheelchair tennis team. She’ll be leaving Roxbury to head to Clemson in August. On February 16, 2021, a skiing accident in Pennsylvania left her paralyzed from the waist down. Benedetto was featured in The Rockaway Times in May 2021. On why she sent us this essay, Benedetto says, “I made this because I truly love writing. It is one of my biggest passions, and I wanted to remind myself of how far I’ve come, my journey of high school, and all of my future endeavors that I am very excited to experience.” We’re excited, too. Congrats, Liv!)