I went out with 3 of my friends today. I found a place that claimed to have wheelchair accessible walks, and we went off the path, and my wheelchair got stuck a thousand times.
We laughed so hard, and they pushed me (I can’t propel myself very far) and we took photos and we laughed more and we went through mud and fine sand and thistles, and then we ate croissants at a café and when we got back to the car we had ice cream and
I wish I could go back to my child self and show them this day. I wish I could say, One day you’ll be part of things and people will be glad to have you around, and they won’t complain about pushing you up a steep grade or through a bog, and they will want to hear your shitty jokes and when you gasp and say LOOK A BABY BUNNY they will stop to look and it will be exactly as magical as you’re imagining now.
You can find a place where you’re appreciated and loved and supported. You can. I believe it.
I went to a carnival with my friends the other day, and even though my shoulder was dislocated all of them were willing to push me wherever we went, and when they went on the rides I couldn’t go on, I sat and took pictures of them so we could all remember the day. I bought cheesy dinosaur shirts and we all found matching cow shirts. We went through the fair and found little Lego sets that we all loved, and when I got overwhelmed all of them were willing to find a quiet spot to sit and relax in. Even when I started having a tic attack, we left very quickly and got pizza.
I really needed this post to remind me that it’s easiest to feel like you’re a burden when people treat you like a burden. But I promise you’re not, you’ll find people who want you around.
I bought a house with my partner. I am allowed to paint the walls exactly the way I want them painted, in exactly the order I want them painted. I put up the painter’s tape myself and I pull it down (so satisfying). I decide if the walls need another coat or if a spot needs touching up, and I am not shamed or berated for my “pickiness”. In fact, my partner walks in and says “wow, it looks amazing in here. Great job, handsome.” He does not touch me when I am sweaty and sore, but waits until I have had my shower and come back to myself.
The food in our cupboards is food I will eat - or at least our cupboards contain nothing I hate and am expected to eat anyway. There is always something to snack on for when food is Bad and eating is Hard. There are no doors on the cupboards, the better to remember that food exists and can be accessed easily.
There are soft things everywhere. The lights are kept low and soon we will put up fairy lights for supplemental lighting. My sensory needs are met and respected, and I am safe.
My partner puts my walker in his car and drives me places - and does not object when I would rather be the one driving, relinquishes control as easily as breathing. He checks to make sure I am okay, that I am not pushing too hard; he believes me when I say I can or cannot do something. He slows down to keep pace when I am tired or in pain, and never, ever rushes me.
You will build a home some day, and it will be just as beautiful and safe as mine.
I now live in a place where there is no screaming or yelling. I no longer walk on eggshells by simply existing in my own home. There is no more pressure on me to sacrifice my limited energy to do more because there is no desperate need for me to escape.
The dishes are allowed to stay in the sink overnight and the world does not explode if the bathroom is not cleaned top-to-bottom weekly before Sunday evening. My roommate and partner believes me when I say I cannot do something, and I feel safe and comfortable to ask for help when I need it.
I am unlearning the involuntary hesitation of inviting people to my home, and learning that it’s okay to let people in even if their time in my life is only temporary.
I never would have been able to imagine this as a teenager, or even through college. It does get better. It’s worth hanging around for.
