Beating you with a wheelchair tied behind my back

I told a former co-worker once that I was surprised how much I enjoyed competing in horse shows because I did not consider myself competitive at all. But that's not quite true.

I am competitive when people talk about their issues, and I think to myself: “You think those are issues? Those kinds of things don't even keep me up at night!”

The Washington Post Magazine's XX Files weekly column is easy to find – right next to the crossword so Dad has almost always creased own up work the puzzle – and I read it religiously, even though it has nothing to do with that awesome TV show its name plays off.

Actually the XX doesn't refer to an FBI case but chromosomes. I am actually not sure if I lose guy points for reading it, but I am confident in my manhood. And sometimes you read really strong stories, like one about a dog and a somewhat crazy man who while petting the usually scared dog told its owner: “Animals like me because they know why I'm sad."

But you also have to read ones like today's column in which a 28-year-old feels she is being left behind because her two siblings have gotten married and have one child each.

Oh please; 28 practically is a child! (The following may not be so much the good kind of bitter as pathetic rant – does it make it better that I know this -- and I am sure the 28-year-old is a wonderful person.)

Try being on the edge of your 38th birthday and the only single one among six siblings in a family where family life is of high importance. Try having no expectation of your marital status changing in one year or 10.

Try being one of two siblings (my brother who also has Friedreich's ataxia is the other) without children. The one brother who has kids has one daughter. Dad is an only child, so goodbye family name.

And I am not even directly playing the wheelchair card.