Decoding a Year in a Disabled Life

The end of the year is always a complex jumble of thoughts for me. A time of forced reflection, when the entire world pauses and celebrates the exact same thing - a new calendar year. We use this time to reflect on the past 365 days, a time capsule of sorts to help us organize our memories like photograph books.

I will be honest, reaching my 30's was something I was never truly prepared for. To make it this far seemed like some big ole Eff You to my own body and mind. So each year I stop and reflect, I also stop and remind myself to be grateful to be here, even when the world isn't as grateful as I am. Though the world does find ways to become a little more accessible, to help me feel seen year after year, it's only a small percent of change. Anytime I brave the public, I'm walked over, talked over, infantilized, stared at and/or pointed at. I've had people wave their hands in my face when I'm non-verbal just to get me to hear some random unimportant comment they made. That was just this year!

It's bad enough when strangers exist with their casual ableism, but it's een more disheartening when it comes from people who supposedly care about you and your well-being. There are many people in my life who assume my wants and needs, right down to what they think I would enjoy or tolerate. It's something so simple to communicate, it would seem. I sometimes need a mobility aid or experience periods of sensory overload and so on, it seems like people want to complicate things by not asking me first and foremost. Too many people avoid the conversation altogether and just dont even try to include me. I've sort of become used to being passed over for able people, but it doesn't make it hurt any less at all. I've missed out on things this year merely because people assumed my interest or ability, but never once paused to assume the same of their neurotypical or able friends.

It's not difficult to be there for your disabled friends, not just this year, but for every year forward. It's as simple as listening to them tell you what their experience is like, so the disabled experience is less stereotyped. Knowledge is power, and that power can lead to change in accessibility. Some of the loudest voices are disabled voices, they just need people to help be their loudspeaker. This year, I experienced friends coming to me and saying they were grateful for me speaking out, even on the toughest days, about the everyday ableism I experience. I've had friends come to me and thank me for helping them work through their own ableism. I've helped people learn less ableist ways to say things, and I've helped people understand their own disabled bodies and minds this year too. Amongst the hearbreak, there is triumph. Though often I wonder why it's so much harder than others just to try. I realize though, that those who always come through, those who make space for you are often disabled themselves. These people have experienced the same heartbreak and know how important it is to be seen and heard, never assumed.

In 2023, I hope to experience less ableism. Not just the obvious, but the everyday language and attitudes that people use and never pause on how hurtful it is. Things as simple as just get out and take a walk everyday to others have it worse, sometimes your commentary really isn't as helpful as you make think it is. In 2023, I ask you to look at the ableism in your own life, and work towards making the world even more accessible for myself and people like me.