DISABILITY stigma

When I lost my leg, no one ever told me I was disabled. It wasn't a word the doctor ever used, and it hadn't crossed my mind in any significant way during the early part of my recovery. It wasn't until I went out in public that I noticed the world outside my house was not exactly built for people like me. I couldn't reach things while sitting in a wheelchair, and people did not hesitate to stare at me like I had four heads. I was so busy learning to do things in a way that worked for my new body that I hadn't considered that I was, in fact, disabled.

I sat with that realization, thinking about what it meant for me and my future. There were no tears, but sadly, there was a moment of acceptance that people would always look at me differently, and I would experience a certain amount of pity from people around me. Why? Because of a lack of understanding of just how full my life is and the undoubted stigma surrounding disability.

So much focus is placed on what a disabled person cannot do or what is assumed they cannot do that society tends to place a label on people like me. I can almost see the thought bubble pop up above strangers' heads -weak, sad. It's like they've seen a wounded deer. But I'm not wounded, and many disabled people are happier and more accomplished than those without a disability thanks to simple accommodations that allow us to care for ourselves, complete tasks, and access places and activities.

Consider for a moment that you, too, are disabled (maybe you are). If so, you might be dealing with some physical or mental barriers, and you are living in a world where things were not designed with you in mind. Pity isn't what you want. What you want is acceptance, more accessibility, and acknowledgment that you still bring plenty to the table. The next time you see someone in a wheelchair, don't look past them, feel sorry for them, or fear them. Look them in the eyes the same as you would anyone else. You might be surprised at just how contagious change can be.