Βι¶ΉΤΌΕΔ

I'm thinking about what I posted the other day here at Ouch, about how I never had to deal with a lot of crap that other PWDs deal with because I looked fairly 'normal'. I didn't do any of the things that ablist society views as disgusting or lesser. I don't drool. I don't look drunk when I walk. I don't lisp or have speech impediments. I just look like a regular chick who has trouble walking. I suppose in the disability hierarchy I'm somewhere at the top, at least outwardly.

That's not to say that I haven't put up with ablism and ostracizing, but no one's ever tried to have me forcibly sterilized or euthanised.

When I was a little girl, I strove to maintain my appearance of normality as best I could. I tried to hide my limp, even when limping was less painful. I wouldn't use assistive devices in public if I didn't have to. I didn't want to ride on the little yellow bus to school, even though it would have been a lot easier for me. I feared the ridicule of classmates too much.

I wish there had been some disabled children in my town. I was the token gimp at my school, markedly different from the other students. I think it would have been better if I'd lived in a city like Vancouver, where there would have been a lot more people like myself. In outport Newfoundland, I was quite an anomaly, and no one ever let me forget it.

I've stopped being self-conscious about my disability now, but I'm far into my 20s. I used to hate walking into a room full of new people, because I knew everyone would see the disability first. Nowadays I assume they'll see my stunning good looks first. :D I've stopped hiding my disability, because I've stopped feeling ashamed of it. I used to be thrilled when people said "You're disabled? I never would have guessed!" Now, I don't care. Well, actually, I prefer that they see the disability, because it's a huge part of me, a part of me that people need to be able to handle if they want to be my friend. I'm not hiding it anymore.

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