“I said, ‘Well hopefully you could just call me Aimee. But if you have to describe it, I’m a bilateral below-the-knee amputee.’”

Our insecurities are our disabilities, and I struggle with those as does everyone.

We all bullet point our triumphs, but I am who I am because of everything you don’t see on my CV. The stuff that doesn’t work out teaches you how to trust your instincts and adapt.

I would slide into second with my prostheses, and the girl on the base could either step aside or meet two wooden sticks.

With L’Oreal, I get to be Aimee Mullins, model. No qualifier. And that means everything to me.

If it’s putting on a great dance record and rocking out in your apartment, do it. If kissing someone for 10 minutes makes you feel confident, do it.

The legs that I have made are far more perfect than the ones nature would have given me – my mother’s side of the family have awful legs.

You feel impacted by not having it. It’s an important part of your daily function and what you can do in a day.

The Pentagon isn’t a place that champions individuality and innovation.

It is our humanity, and all the potential within it that makes us beautiful.

I haven’t had an easy life, but at some point ,you have to take responsibility for yourself and shape who it is that you want to be.

I’ve had journalists asking me, ‘What do we call you – is it handicapped, are you disabled, physically challenged?’

I’m not an advocate for disability issues. Human issues are what interest me.

At some point in every person’s life, you will need an assisted medical device – whether it’s your glasses, your contacts, or as you age and you have a hip replacement or a knee replacement or a pacemaker. The prosthetic generation is all around us.

I had a paper round and every night I would put the dinner on before Mum came home from work. I was capable because I had to be.

When I’m curious about something, I do it full on and take it as far as I go, but when I feel like I’ve really explored it, I’m OK with putting it aside and going on to something else.

An athlete experiences the emotions of pain and elation through triumph and defeat, through teamwork and individuality, as nothing more than a human being…that is the true glory of sport.

I’m not an advocate for disability issues. Human issues are what interest me. You can’t possibly speak for a diverse group of people.

I’ve had journalists asking me, ‘What do we call you – is it handicapped, are you disabled, physically challenged?’

I don’t know what it’s like to be an arm amputee, or have even one flesh-and-bone leg, or to have cerebral palsy.