Written from the point of view of an invisibly disabled person, but applicable to passing in many contexts, this captures some of the complex ambivalence of passing.
I've finally started to get to a place where I'm comfortable showing the effects of my disability to some, where I used to hide it from everyone, including Josh. It makes it even harder.
The one place where I'm consistently confronted with my own limitations is OC Transpo. If I haven't disclosed my situation to someone, I try to avoid taking the bus with them. The looks and comments of strangers are a little easier to take. I don't look disabled, why do I need a seat? I don't look disabled, why can't you just take the stairs?
Absolutely. Sometimes, I'm told, it's just because I'm fat, and that doesn't count.
I really want people to think hard about the chain reaction that happens to someone when they get a spinal or leg injury if they don't have a wickedly high metabolism.
no subject
The one place where I'm consistently confronted with my own limitations is OC Transpo. If I haven't disclosed my situation to someone, I try to avoid taking the bus with them. The looks and comments of strangers are a little easier to take. I don't look disabled, why do I need a seat? I don't look disabled, why can't you just take the stairs?
no subject
no subject
I really want people to think hard about the chain reaction that happens to someone when they get a spinal or leg injury if they don't have a wickedly high metabolism.
no subject