I'm Arianna, part of the Fatima Community in Milan. I'm a quadriplegic girl—some of you might wonder what that means.
I'll keep it simple: I can't do anything without help from another person. Usually that's my family or friends, especially people from Fede e Luce during our meetings.
But I want to tell you a story about myself, and it centers on a part of the body that normally helps us breathe, smell things, and becomes unbearably annoying when we catch a cold. But it does much more than that.
You guessed it—I'm talking about my nose. A nose that, like Pinocchio's, has quite a special story.
His would grow. Mine? It's touch! You got it right—TOUCH!!!!
One evening, my parents and I had just come back from the beach. My mother was tidying up the kitchen, and I wanted to read my WhatsApp messages urgently. Why wait? But how could I? My hands wouldn't work—I can't use them. My eyes? No, those need a pointer. My tongue? Well, that's wet. Then it hit me: my nose! So I tried, and it worked.
When my mother noticed me scrolling through WhatsApp with the tip of my nose, she thought she must have imagined it. She called my father to double-check. They were both speechless.
It started as an experiment, and apparently it was a success. From that moment on, I never stopped. Now, thanks to my determination and desire to be independent—at least in this way—I can do everything I want and need to do.
When people ask me how I manage to write with my nose, I don't know how to answer. Honestly, I'm not even sure myself. It just came naturally. Of course, like anything new, it was difficult at first, but my drive to make it work carried me through.
Writing on my own this way has given me something else: the chance to rebuild some friendships I'd lost over the years, since I couldn't freely write what I wanted. And I've been able to have new experiences too.
A professor at the university I attend took an interest in my story. She suggested I start a blog and make a video to show people how I write with my nose.
One day my dad joked with me: since your nose gives you the chance to be "free," you should give it a name.
Done and done. I got to work and launched a poll in one of my WhatsApp groups. Among all the suggestions, one name won out: freedom. Because that's what it gives me—the freedom to express my thoughts without needing anyone else's help.
Arianna Giuliano, 2018