“Why Would Anyone Want Me?” | Life With Disability & Chronic Illness

A photo of me, a young white female with long brown hair and blue eyes. I am seen from the shoulders up and I am looking straight ahead. I am not smiling
Me, aged 33

“I can’t see why anyone would want me”

As a disabled blogger, this is by far the most common message I receive from readers and followers – particularly those in their twenties, living with disabilities and chronic illness.

For anyone out there who has ever felt this way, I get it. I hear you!

Born in 1988 with a rare progressive condition (Ullrich congenital muscular dystrophy), I’ve personally struggled with various insecurities and a lack of self-worth my whole life.

For me, the belief that “no one would ever want me” was fuelled by cruel comments, ignorance and exclusion.

Growing up, I felt invisible, unseen, overlooked, and yet, painfully inescapably obvious to all. I wanted to hide away, and, at the same time, longed for someone to notice me. To see me, the person beyond the disability.

A photo of me, aged 15, with blonde hair and sad, sallow eyes. I'm looking straight at the camera. I have my hand to my mouth.
Me, aged 15

I was one of only two disabled students at a mainstream high school, surrounded by 700 able-bodied kids. I stuck out like a sore thumb! I was the anomaly. And, I was ever-aware of it.

Seated in my manual wheelchair, unable to transfer, weight-bear or self-propel, completely reliant on others for mobility, I felt helpless, useless, a burden.

At 13, during the month of May, I was admitted to hospital with pneumonia. One of many bouts throughout my life. I didn’t tell anyone at school. No one noticed my absence. No one asked. It seemed, no one cared.

Experiences such as this further exacerbated my introversion, isolation, my mistrust in others and the overwhelming thought that I was better off alone. You can only really rely on yourself, right?

My health has always been, for lack of a better word, crap! Deteriorating with the progression of time. It is an incredibly limiting factor. So too is relying on carers. I can’t get myself in or out of bed, I can’t dress or undress myself, I can’t drive, or work. What do I bring to the table?

Me, aged approx 30, sat in a hospital waiting room wearing a face mask
Me, aged approx 30, sat in a hospital waiting room wearing a face mask

Spontaneity, what’s that? Everywhere I go, everything I do must be pre-planned. And often, those plans fall through when my chronic fatigue forbids me from leaving my bed for the entire day.

It’s no fun! It’s beyond frustrating and bloody miserable at times.

Why would anyone choose this life? Why would anyone choose to be with me? What can I offer?

I’ll be honest with you, these questions continue to plague my thoughts every now and then. Like a lingering grey cloud that will never pass by entirely.

A selfie of me, looking in the mirror, seated in my powered wheelchair. I have long, mid-brown hair and I'm wearing a grey cardigan and white leggings. In this photo, I am aged 33
Me, in my Sunrise You-Q Luca powered wheelchair. Aged 33

Yes, I’ve had romantic relationships. Some good, some not so good. I’ve dated both able-bodied and disabled guys.

My brief stint on dating app Hinge was an experience! Guys can be shamelessly brutal, often telling me I’m no one’s type and they wouldn’t consider dating a disabled girl. Though tough to hear, I was never surprised, nor do I bear any resentment.  Everyone has freedom of choice and can date whoever they want. I never felt any desire or inclination to convince anyone of my worth.

I won’t lie, my health issues and physical disability did present challenges, cause tension and resentment within relationships. Things were said that are forever imprinted in my memory.

The saying goes, “love is all you need”. I don’t believe this to be true. I think trust, loyalty and the ability to care for someone even in the darkest of times is arguably more important.

Love was very much present in one of my previous relationships, but deep down, I knew it wouldn’t last because I couldn’t rely on him. He was all in on the good days. But on the bad days – my bad days – it became increasingly clear that he wasn’t invested. He couldn’t cope. Love alone wasn’t enough.

A photo of me taken from behind - my face cannot be seen. I am at Whitby, looking out to the sea. I am seated in my powered wheelchair. My hair is tied up in a messy bun. In this photo, I am aged approximately 27
Me, in my Quantum powered wheelchair, aged approx 27

I don’t want to feed you empty clichés or try to convince you it will all work out in the end; that there’s someone for everyone. Because relationships are hard, even without the added complexities of a disability or chronic illness!

What I will say, what I want to emphasise to anyone reading this, is to focus on your relationship with yourself. Be kind to yourself, prioritise your health, your wants and needs. Stop worrying about what others may or may not think of you. Does it really matter?

A black and white graphic image of a male wheelchair-user kissing the hand of a female wheelchair-user

When you do meet someone who is worthy of you, (yes, we’re ALL worthy of love, affection and intimacy), don’t try to hide your struggles and insecurities. Be open, honest and real with them. Let them see you at your very worst.

Some will cut and run. You will face rejection. We all do. This is part of life. Don’t waste your tears over these people. Trust me, it’s not worth it!

It’s easy to find friends and lovers when you’re young, fit, able and care-free.

But, this is where those of us living with debilitating conditions hold the advantage (lucky us!). Because our lives are far from easy and care-free. We can trust that the people who choose to be with us, no matter what, truly do care.

Navigating Love & Life as a Disabled Woman | Muscular Dystrophy

Let’s be honest, when we’re young, we’re all enticed by a pretty face or a good body. Attraction is primarily physical, and to put it bluntly, at 18, most of us would shag anything with a pulse – opportunity is everything.

I cringe when looking back at some of the guys I fancied and gave my attention to! What the bloody hell was I thinking?!

Each to their own, but I was never a one-night-stand type. And not because I’m a tiny, delicate woman in a wheelchair, and therefore more vulnerable. That didn’t even occur to me. Oh, the naivety of youth!

A collage of four photos of me in my powered wheelchair

Much later, I reluctantly signed up to dating app Hinge, which lasted a total of two months.

I tried modern dating (eurgh!), which, in my limited experience, seemed to consist of shallow idiots and the phrases “you’re no one’s type”, “get in the car!” and, “let’s book a hotel room”.

Responding with a firm no, I was told to “fuck off then”.

There are some lovely people out there!

On reflection, it probably wasn’t the best idea to tell one bloke that his car was shit, but it made me laugh as I rolled home alone in my powered wheelchair.

Growing up, a friend of mine repeatedly told me, “you need a big strong guy to pick you up and throw you around”.

I can see where she was coming from, but even as a young teen, I always thought, why? Don’t I just want someone to care?

Eventually, I did date that guy – the gym guy. And yes, for the first few months it was great. It was fun, liberating, and as another friend once said, “he gave you a sense of independence and adventure”.  She was totally right.

In terms of practicality, it made life a hell of a lot easier for me, as a non-ambulatory wheelchair-user. For a fleeting moment, I thought that was what I wanted.

But, ultimately, I couldn’t rely on him and I felt very much like an option, a burden, and too much to take on due to my disability. He was physically incredibly strong, but mentally and emotionally very weak.

I didn’t realise it at the time, but at that stage, I was willing to accept the bare minimum – stupid girl!

I invested my time and energy in the wrong place, the wrong person.

The experience changed my outlook and, as cliché as it sounds, made me realise my worth.

You live, you learn, you move on.

As we get older, our perspective, values and priorities change.

These days, I can’t think of anything worse than attempting to flirt (awkwardly) with some Tinder clone. Quite frankly, I’d rather cuddle up at home, alone, with a nice cuppa tea!

At 33, my life certainly isn’t as I imagined or hoped for as a kid. Then again, with age comes the realisation that life rarely turns out as planned.

I’m no longer impressed by aesthetics. Trust me, a pretty face will only get you so far in life.

Above all, what I want is someone to care, unconditionally. Simple as that.

Don’t we all??

Don’t get me wrong, I cherish my alone time and independence, and I’m more than capable of caring for and supporting myself (mentally, anyway).

I’ve endured a fair amount of crap and spent over 90% of my life single. I’m certainly not the type to need a man.

I’m not interested in grand gestures, a lavish lifestyle, fancy house, or gym-bods!

But, for someone to choose you, want you, and stand by you, even when the shit hits the fan – especially when the shit hits the fan! That, to me, means the world.

Me, in my powered wheelchair, looking out to sea

My Disabled Body | Muscular Dystrophy

Anyone who knows me will tell you I’m incredibly self-conscious of my disabled body.

I’m much more of a behind-the-scenes presence, and I hate being photographed!

My insecurities have deepened over the years, as my condition (Ullrich congenital muscular dystrophy) has progressed.

My spine is curved significantly in a ‘S’ shape, shortening my torso and causing asymmetry. I am underweight with muscle degeneration, and contractures in all of my joints.

Oh, and I am a ghostly shade of pale!

Being so very slight of stature and a non-ambulatory powered wheelchair-user, clothes are ill-fitting, often uncomfortable and don’t drape well.

Most of the time I feel like a bag of crap!

As a kid, though aware of the physical differences between myself and my peers, I really didn’t care. I was generally happy with a good group of friends.

Me, wearing school uniform, aged 4
Me (right) with a primary school friend (left)
Aged 8, sat in my manual wheelchair at school
Me (second from left), aged 9, with primary school friends
Me, aged 9, with primary school friends
On holiday, in my manual wheelchair. Aged approx 12

But, of course, kids (and adults) can be blunt, and, sometimes cruel with their words and observations. As time went on, I was subjected more and more to stares, pointing, judgement and exclusion.

I became a full-time wheelchair-user at the age of 10.

Back then, it was very much a case of ‘suck it up and get on with it, these are the cards you’ve been dealt’.

Looking back, I guess it affected me more than I realised.

My teens were hard. I became increasingly withdrawn, conscious of what I consider my flaws, and constantly compared myself to other girls, wishing I looked like them.

Me, aged approx 15
Me, aged approx 17, trying to avoid the camera

Then came the dating years…

Comments such as, “you’re no one’s type” and “no one’s going to want you” massively impacted my self-perception and relationships.

Somewhere along the way, I lost myself and my sense of identity.

Now aged 33, I appear more child-like than womanly. I can honestly say, I’ve never felt sexy, or even attractive, in my entire life!

I’m not body-confident, and I don’t think I ever will be. I still compare myself to others and shy away from people, places and opportunities.

But, I am really trying to accept the fact that there is nothing I can do about my body. It is what it is – unique. I need to make the best of what I do have.

If others don’t like it, that’s absolutely fine, but they can kindly fuck off!

In an attempt to push myself out of hermit mode, I recently ‘dressed up’, took some sour-faced selfies, and posted them on Instagram…

…Excuse the Listerine in the background, haha!

The response was positive, complimentary and sincere. It gave me the confidence to write this post and ‘put myself out there’.

Why? Because I am what I am. I’m not “normal”. But what is “normal”, anyway?

A Year Offline | Sept 2020 – 21

My last post was the first after a year’s absence!

So, what have I been doing in that time?

  • Well, I dyed my hair – wild, I know
From blonde (above) to brunette-ish (below)
  • Went even wilder and got filler + botox…
Making a dick of myself with a filtered selfie

…No, not really!! 😂

  • Embraced fluffy socks to hide my corpse feet (even when leaving the house!)
Me, sat in my powered wheelchair, wearing comfy fluffy socks
  • Accidently drove my wheelchair into the bathroom sink, bashing my knee – ouch!
Me and my bloody knee!
Me and my bloody knee!
  • Redecorated my bedroom and deliberated for too long over duvet covers
  • Failed at knitting so took up crochet
  • Started learning French through Duolingo. In my opinion, so much easier than lessons at school! Although, to be fair, I did spend most of my time staring out of the window
  • Learned to play pool…online…sorta…
  • Went to my first ever supercar festShelsley Walsh Hill Climb. I’ll be honest, I haven’t a clue about cars but it was a fun day and something different
Shelsley Walsh Hill Climb – Supercar Fest
Me, sitting in my powered wheelchair (held together by tape!), watching the hill climb at Supercar Fest
Supercar Fest – August 2021
  • A particular highlight was our accessible canal boat ride through the prehistoric Dudley tunnels, mined during the Industrial Revolution. We got soaked (from the rain; we didn’t fall in the canal), and I ended up looking like Alice Cooper with mascara running down my face. But it was memorable!
The Black Country Living Museum
Our accessible canal boat
Dudley canal and tunnels

Despite restrictions, I’ve managed to get out and about a fair bit – Roaming around aimlessly in the car, wandering along accessible forest trails, casually entering a local arboretum without paying, and even attempting the Malvern Hills!

Our view from Black Hill, Malvern

Taking on the great outdoors is definitely challenging in a powered wheelchair, and it’s been met with limited success. But, for me, it’s not what you do but who you do it with.

Grabbing a Tesco meal deal with someone you love ♥ is (to me) far more precious than partying with a room full of semi-drunk acquaintances.

(Photo credits: All media copyright CarrieA & JV)

Dating with a Disability | Q&A

In part one, I shared my personal experiences with dating as a non-ambulatory wheelchair-user, as well as some motivational advice.

Part two is a little more light-hearted, giving an insight into some amusing dating disasters!

In this third and final offering, I answer ALL of your burning questions…

Instagram Q&A

(Above): Thanks to my mate, Ross Lannon for this delightful contribution!

Twitter/Facebook Questions

Q: What tips do you have for disabled people who don’t understand why someone would want to date them?

A: I think it’s natural to lack confidence and feel insecure, regardless of (dis)ability. I’m sure we have all felt this way to some extent. This comes down to how we perceive ourselves and self-worth. I do think we need to find happiness and contentment within ourselves before entering into a potential relationship. Believe me, I know how difficult this is! Also, there comes a point where you just have to take a leap of faith and trust that what this person says is sincere. If they tell you they like you and enjoy your company, trust them! Don’t question it – you will drive yourself mad and eventually irritate them too. Yes, it might go nowhere, but at least you will have allowed yourself that opportunity. Dating is all about confidence, self belief, taking risks and having fun. I hope this helps!

Q: What is the biggest challenge you have faced?

A: Again, for me, it’s all about realising my worth. I am very self-critical and have, at times, convinced myself that no one could ever want me. I thought I was too much to take on; an unnecessary burden. Why would anyone date me when they could go out with an able-bodied girl? But I have been proven wrong. Initially, I was very sceptical and found it hard to believe guys when they told me they liked me. But I soon realised I was doing myself no favours; this was self-destructive behaviour.

Q: What are your biggest insecurities?

A: My body and physical limitations. I am non-ambulant, incredibly petite and have a significant scoliosis (curvature of the spine). I don’t look “normal” and I don’t have a curvy, womanly physique. I would try desperately to disguise this with baggy clothes, and felt embarrassed by my child-sized stature. However, I now make a point of celebrating my tiny, “pixie” frame. After all, being small has it’s advantages! I’m easy to carry and throw around! I am what I am. There’s nothing I can do to change my body. If people don’t like it, that’s absolutely fine – it’s their problem, not mine!

Q: How and when do you reveal your disability and limitations when dating?

A: This can be difficult! For me, it isn’t as simple as, “I can’t walk”. My disability comes with many challenges and health implications. It’s hard trying to explain this to someone who has no knowledge or familiarity with my condition, without overwhelming them with information. I think it’s important that you are willing to answer questions, however silly they might seem. Personally, I don’t take offence when guys ask if I can feel and if I’m able to have sex. It’s natural curiosity! It doesn’t mean that’s all they’re interested in.

Dating Disasters

Following my last post, I was encouraged to write more on the subject of dating with a disability. Not that I’m much of a dater. I don’t do the apps (other than a brief stint on Hinge) or actively chat up blokes. If it happens, it happens.

A mate told me to share some dating disaster stories. I’m not sure there have been any disasters, as such. Rather, a few funny anecdotes.

One took place on a freezing cold day in January – not ideal. He wrapped his coat around me, which was quite sweet. He wouldn’t let me keep it (less sweet, methinks) but I did steal his hat!

Another date (if you can call it that) was with a 34 year-old guy from dating app, Hinge. Though stereotypically attractive – clean cut with washboard abs – he really wasn’t my type at all.

Still, I was encouraged to go for it, mainly because he’s older and, in theory, more mature. So, on a whim, after months of chatting on/off, I agreed to meetup.

This lead to possibly the most awkward and stale encounter I’ve ever experienced. I’m not sure if he was going for the brooding, ‘treat them mean, keep them keen’ thing, but it translated as pure arrogance. Plus, he had zero sense of humour and was somewhat full of shit.

He claimed to have dated Ellie Goulding and that one of her songs was written about him. Google disagrees!

The only thing he seemed interested in was his car (which, I may have inadvertently insulted. I amused myself, anyway), and getting a hotel room there and then.

Now, each to their own, but I’ve never been into meaningless one night stands. Plus, let’s be real for a second, I’m a girl. A “vulnerable” girl. So if a guy can’t appreciate why I don’t want to hook-up within 10 minutes of meeting, well, sod off mate!

So, in the end I told him I was off home for my tea (yes, I really said that).

I took the long route and nagged a mate on the phone on my way. As I rolled along the riverside in my chair, a little kid waved enthusiastically at me. That made me smile and was most definitely the highlight of my evening. Kids are so much easier than men!

Prior to this, I met up with a lad I went to school with. He’s a bit quirky with long, dark, wavy hair and piercing blue eyes – ding, ding!!

Somehow, we got chatting after some 15 years, and I went to his place. There was no plan or agenda on my part. Yes, I fancied him – a little – but I’m terrible at the whole flirty thing.

Now, I’m completely non-ambulant and haven’t been up a flight of stairs in many years. So, despite worrying that I’d be dropped on the floor in a heap, I trusted him to carry me up to his room where he plonked me on his bed.

After a fair amount of kissing and rolling around, the boy got a bit excited and, well, released his manly juices over my lovely top! Mmm, crusty!

You may be surprised to learn this beautiful union developed no further.

Dating with a Disability

Honestly, I hate dating. It’s generally pretty nerve-wracking. But, add a disability into the mix and the whole thing becomes even more challenging.

Disability aside, I am an acquired taste. I have a very dry, dark, and somewhat sarcastic sense of humour. I’m not a natural people person, and I can’t do small-talk to save my life. Yes, I’m a bit of a weirdo.

And then there’s the chair

Many seem to assume disabled people only date those with a similar disability. I never understood that.

Personally, I’ve only ever dated able-bodied guys. This isn’t necessarily a conscious decision, though in all honesty, it does make life easier!

Dating with a physical disability like mine can be awkward, embarrassing and frustrating. There are certain things I cannot do that I REALLY wish I could. So, you need to be willing to answer questions, explain your limitations and ask for help.

I don’t think I’ve dated anyone who hasn’t asked the following:

– Can you move?
– Can you feel?
– Do you hurt?

If and when you’re hit with the 20 questions, my advice would be to try and keep it light-hearted and good-humoured. Remember that many people have no knowledge or familiarity with your disability. They are simply curious and showing an interest in YOU.

You may be reluctant to date because of your disability. Maybe you lack confidence or think that no one would want you. Trust me, that’s bullshit!

Yes, you might make an arse of yourself and roll home feeling like a bag of shit. I know I have. But hey, if a date goes badly, you never have to see them again!

Bad experiences will knock your confidence. But you’ve just got to dust yourself off and try again.

One guy once told me that I’m no one’s type (referring to my disability). What a lovely chappy! Well, he kissed like some kinda mutant slug! So, no great loss there. Cheerio, bye-bye…

Dating Apps

This seems to be the go-to method these days. It works for many, but I’m not a dating app type at all. I can tell you now, you’ll never see my face on Tinder or PoF. And if you do, it ain’t me!

The only app I ever used – reluctantly – is Hinge (dubbed “Cringe”), recommended by a good friend.

Much to my surprise, it made quite an impact on me and effectively changed my whole perspective on love…

For a long while, I was referred to, by some, as “the ice queen”. I had my guard up and always kept people at arms length, due to low self-esteem and a fear of judgement and rejection.

I was totally cynical about love and never showed any interest in marriage – I wasn’t the little girl who fantasised about a big white wedding.

Despite a few dates, I wasn’t taking Hinge seriously and never thought I’d meet anyone or fall in love. That just wasn’t me. Then, most unexpectedly, I did.

Quite early on, my mum said she could see me falling for this guy. She told me if it didn’t work out, it would break my heart.

“Nah, we’re just keeping it casual and having fun. Nothing and no one will break my heart”.

Or so I thought. But damn it, mama was right. I really did fall for him. I fell hard and fast (not on the floor, although that has happened)! And my heart really did break when it ended.

But that’s life. Shit happens. You live and learn.

The point is, you have to be willing to take risks, open up, allow yourself to trust, and yes, to get hurt.

It sounds cliché, but it’s essential you realise your worth. Never allow anyone or anything to make you feel you are not good enough or undeserving of love and affection!

And, if anyone does make you doubt your worth, well, fuck ’em! (Not literally).

February | Love & Kindness

This month, we’ve embraced/endured Valentine’s Day, and celebrated Random Acts of Kindness Day.

Screenshot from @MDBloggersCrew Twitter feed, from Random Acts of Kindness Day.

All of this has made me think about relationships and what they really mean.

Valentine’s Day Selfies

Funny Valentine's meme

We’ve all seen couples posting impossibly idealistic, airbrushed selfies on social media, making us believe their lives together are perfect and they couldn’t want for any more in a partner.

Ha! Who are you trying to kid? (Call me cynical).

But the truth is, when you live with someone, whether it be family, friends or a partner, you will inevitably, at times, rub each other up the wrong way and fall out. To think otherwise is, frankly, naive.

They may be senseless, petty disagreements or more serious conflicts. The important thing to consider is how you react and resolve such issues.

As the saying goes, never sleep on an argument. It may seem daft, but it’s true. An unresolved argument will just fester away.

It’s Good to Talk

Some people, somewhat understandably, choose to avoid any sort of conflict and refuse to acknowledge tension within their relationships; sweeping it under the carpet. This isn’t a healthy approach.

If you have a grievance, talk about it calmly and reasonably. Share your worries and concerns with friends, family and loved ones. Don’t bottle things up. Again, it will just fester away resulting in bitterness and resentment.

It’s Really Okay to Disagree!

We can’t all be the same. If we were, life would be very boring. You don’t have to like all the same things or agree with everything those around you think and feel in order to love them. I repeat; to think otherwise is, frankly, naive.

#BeKind

Kindness isn’t agreeing when you don’t, or avoiding potentially difficult conversations just to keep the peace. Kindness isn’t pretending to enjoy things you don’t simply to please others. Kindness isn’t inflating another person’s ego to make them feel good.

Kindness within relationships is about respecting each other’s views, differences, individuality and needs. It’s accepting that we are all flawed and forgiving sincere mistakes. Kindness is about caring enough to keep each other safe, supported and grounded.

Disability & Self Worth | You are not unloveable

I think most people living with a chronic illness, disability or mental health issue can relate to this quote, at least to some extent. I know I do.

I am limited by my physical disability (congenital muscular dystrophy), despite the claims by some that you can do anything if you just try hard enough. As a non-ambulatory wheelchair-user with a muscle-wasting condition, I’m afraid there are certain things I cannot do.

I am heavily reliant on others to carry out daily activities such as cooking, cleaning, locking doors, opening and closing windows and so on. I also need help with personal care tasks like getting in and out of bed, dressing and bathing. This can be undignified, thus affecting my confidence and making me feel incredibly self-conscious and utterly undesirable. After all, who wants their boyfriend to shower them?!

I HATE asking people to do things for me, as I then feel a burden, a nuisance, an annoyance. Having to ask people to simply open a bottle or a can at the grand old age of 30 is frankly embarrassing (for me).

Sometimes I refuse to speak up and request help. Call it pride or sheer stubbornness. But there are other times I have no choice. Like it or not, I have to ask, to instruct, to explain.

For the most part, I’ve managed to conceal the extent of my disability from those around me. Many people, friends included, think I am much more able and independent than I actually am. Again, put it down to pride. But there are some people I can’t hide this from. Family members, of course, but also anyone I am romantically involved with.

Due to the nature of my disability and all the added extras – care requirements, dependency, restrictions, the inability to be spontaneous – I always believed myself to be undeserving of love. I genuinely thought *think* of myself as an unnecessary burden. Why would anyone put up with me, my weak, crooked body and all of my baggage when they could choose to be with someone else?

As a result of this and a lifetime of rejection, I put up barriers and distanced myself from society; a form of self preservation. Being told repeatedly that I’m not good enough, I’m “no one’s type”, and “too much to take on” has made quite a negative impression on my self-esteem.

Now, I don’t want to ramble or get too personal. But I am slowly starting to trust and believe I am worthy of love and companionship.

They say there’s someone for everyone. The cynical part of me still questions this. But maybe, just maybe, there is.

It takes an extra special person to accept me and my care needs. To take on, without question, a pretty drastic lifestyle change. To see past the wheelchair, the crooked body, the medical equipment and the disability itself, and simply love me for me, unconditionally. To try to convince me every day that I’m not undesirable, unloveable or a burden. People like this are rare, but they are out there!

Ableds Are Weird!?

The recent trending Twitter hashtag #AbledsAreWeird, created by disability activist Crutches&Spice, has got me thinking about my own encounters and interactions with able-bodied society.

Uncomfortable? Awkward? Frustrating? Yup!

Here are some examples of my experiences as a non-ambulatory wheelchair-user (with Ullrich Congenital Muscular Dystrophy). I’m sure they are not unique to me!

Let me know if you can relate to any of the following scenarios…


Accessibility

Stranger: There’s only a few steps.
Me: I can’t walk, hence the chair.
Stranger: They’re only small steps.
Me: Nope, still can’t walk I’m afraid.
Stranger: Oh, not even with assistance?
Me: Not even with assistance.
Stranger: Not even a little bit?
Me: Not even a little bit.
Stranger: Not at all?
Me: Not at all.

Awkward, deafening silence…

Stranger: There are steps but we can just lift you (in a powered wheelchair).
Me: Thanks but this chair is really heavy. There’s no way you’ll lift it.

Stranger then attempts to lift me in my wheelchair, only to complain of the weight.

Stuck in a long queue of fit, young able-bods who look me up and down (in my wheelchair) but still choose to wait for the one and only lift/elevator rather than take the stairs, which would be much quicker!

A young driver in flashy sports car races into a blue badge bay and gets out without displaying a badge.
Me: Excuse me, have you got a blue badge?
Driver: No! Have YOU?!
Me: YEP! (waving my blue badge at the driver while sat in my Motability WAV).

Being unable to access public disabled toilets because they’re being used for storage!

Entering a public disabled toilet after a mother and baby have just used it. It absolutely stinks and there are used nappies on the floor!

Online Dating

Guy: okay, can I be honest?
Me: yes.
Guy: let’s be real, you’re no one’s type. Are you!
Me: erm, thanks!

Me: I can’t walk. I have something called muscular dystrophy.
Guy: oh. Right. Okay…
Me: yup…
Guy: so is that something you could change if you work on your fitness?
Me: no. Afraid not.
Guy: not even if you try really hard and actually make an effort?

Me: I’m a wheelchair-user.
Guy: oh right, what’s wrong with you? You self-propel, yeah?
Me: no I can’t do that, and there’s nothing wrong with me.
Guy: but I’ve seen some really fit girls in wheelchairs. They play basketball and all sorts!
Me: yeah, that’s never gonna be me. Sorry.

Me: I’m a wheelchair-user. I can’t walk at all.
Guy: oh, okay. What happened?
Me: nothing happened. I have something called muscular dystrophy.
Guy: I just Googled it. Wow that really is a disease isn’t it!!
Me: fear not, it isn’t contagious.

Guy: oh, so you can’t walk at all?
Me: yeah that’s right, I have muscular dystrophy so I can’t weight-bear. I use a powered wheelchair.
Guy: okay….
Me: it’s fine if you want to ask questions.
Guy: so…you don’t have sex then??
Me: why’s that?
Guy: well, I’m guessing you can’t feel anything…you know.

Woman: aww, I’m sure you’ll find a nice guy in a wheelchair to date!
Me: or just a nice guy!?

Social Worker Review

Assessor: are you able to make your own decisions?
Me: yes.
Assessor: always?
Me: yes.
Assessor: (with a sceptical expression) but…if you needed advice when making a decision, who would you ask?
Me: myself!?

Socialising

Stranger, whilst leaning over, “It’s good to see you getting out and about”

At a restaurant with a group of friends, all of whom are able-bodied. Waiter comes to our table, looks at me in my wheelchair, and starts rambling about a friend of his who lives near a Paralympian. None of us know quite how to respond.

At the pub with a friend who goes to the bar to get us drinks. When she returns, she says a guy at the bar who she knows told her he didn’t realise she’s now a carer. She had to stop and think for a moment and then replied, “I’m not her carer. I’m her friend! We’ve known each other almost 20 years!”
The guy looked absolutely dumbfounded.

Driving & Mobility

“Wow, you learned to drive? Is that safe? Did you have a special instructor and a special test?”

“Your wheelchair’s a bit battered. Looks like you could do with a new one! I suppose you just call and get a replacement through the NHS?”

“Do you have to have training and a test to drive that thing? [my powered wheelchair]”

“They [wheelchairs] cost HOW MUCH?! Why are they so expensive? Can’t you just save up?”

University

“Oh, you went to university? Good for you! It’s something for you to do, isn’t it. How did you manage though?”


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