Post 109

I'm a disabled
designer,
creative,
freelancer,
brat,
person.

Content Note: My personal relationship with disability and ableism. This doesn't represent a community.

disabled is a word

Given at birth as I entered this world floppy and pre-mature. My sister and I are disabled. Our brother's not. In our family, that's all it meant. It was simply our life.

disabled is a bond

A complex relationship. Anger and comprise balancing realities and expectations. Fear of relying on others and guilt. Clarity and acceptance. Love exposing the essence of life: how fragile and beautiful it is to exist.

disabled is misunderstood

Growing up realizing the world did not understand disability as I lived it. Categorized as "other" in comparison to non-disabled centers.

• "I could never be disabled"
• "But you're not disabled like that"
• "What quality of life do they have"
• "If it gets to that point just pull the plug"
• "That's so sad"

disabled is resilience

Knowing my life is worthy, despite the above. Being reminded of this ableism over and over again, for the past two years. And still somehow pushing for accessibility.

Using the word, despite of your misunderstanding. For you it's an other. Something you think you won't be part of. A group you use for "inclusion" yet can't even write the word for.

For me, it's personal. Shaping who I am to how I perceive the world. Experience I wouldn't trade for any non-disabled standard of living.

disabled is identity

I'm a designer, creative and freelancer. A stubborn brat. A person with flaws, traits, and qualities just the same. And I'm disabled. I'm not asking you understand. I'm not asking you to live it. I'm asking you to let me exist as I am.

disabled is a word