Songkran is Thailand’s New Year festival — a vibrant, three-day-long celebration known for its wild, joyful water fights. When I first heard about it, I honestly didn’t think much of the scale. I thought, “Okay, so there’s a water fight you can participate in… cool, I’ll just skip it.” Easy.

But after connecting with other travelers who had been and seeing videos online, I learned the truth: Thailand doesn’t just host a water fight — it becomes one. This event floods the streets, malls, and train stations — everywhere. No one is safe. Everyone gets wet. It’s a full-country cleanse, symbolizing a fresh start for the new year.

And honestly? When I realized that, my heart fell straight out of my ass.

My kente prosthetic — a beautiful, brilliant piece of technology — can do a lot. But it absolutely cannot get wet. Not soaked, not splashed, not caught in a surprise bucket ambush. A gentle mist? Maybe. But a nationwide water war? No way.

And this has been the story of my life — especially when it comes to water. As a kid, I missed out on it all. No water parks. No water rides. No beach trips. No running through fire hydrants. No pools. No fountains. Just… no water.

I remember one day, my grandmother broke the rule. She let me play in the lake and splash in fountains with my siblings. By the end of that day, my leg was in pieces and a stranger had to carry me back to her. But that memory of freedom? That’s stayed with me forever.

So when I heard about Songkran, I knew I was facing the same old choice: sit it out, or find a way in.

My first instinct was to jump on a plane and head to my next country. I wasn’t totally against it — this journey is about travel, after all. But the truth is, I was still recovering from my birthday trip to Ko Tao, and more than anything, I was just tired. Tired of running. Tired of missing out. Tired of watching life happen without me.

So this time, I stayed. And I decided I would participate.

With a 30L dry bag holding my prosthetic on my back and my running blade on, I made my way to the streets.

I remember walking toward the crowd and seeing the first splashes of water in the distance. My kente was safely tucked away, but my body hadn’t caught up with that yet. My heart was pounding. And then — a full bucket of ice-cold water hit me.

I froze. Then laughed. And remembered: I can get wet this time.

As I walked down the street, spraying and getting sprayed, soaking and being soaked, a voice in my head kept whispering, “Wow, I can’t believe I get to do this.” I kept thinking about all the times I sat out, watching from the sidelines while others had fun. This time? I was right in the middle of it.

Songkran is all about cleansing and new beginnings — and that’s exactly what it gave me. It washed away years of sitting out. It marked the start of something new: me joining in. Even if I don’t do things like everyone else, I can still do them. Just differently.

That’s what living with a disability has taught me. It’s not about what you can’t do — it’s about finding ways to do what you want to do. Everything is possible. Maybe it just looks different.

If I’d had the knowledge and resources I have now, maybe I could’ve gone on the water rides with my siblings. Maybe I could’ve run through the hydrants with the neighborhood kids. I can’t go back and change the things I missed. But I can make sure I don’t keep missing out.

I’m grateful for Songkran — for what it gave me. A reminder that I’m here to live. To participate. To play. Disability or not, I can truly do it all. And I will.