I thought I’d cause a rip or tear if I contributed to the fabric of society. I had come to a comfortable place of acceptance where doing everyday things proved to be a major feat. Then, I was suddenly blinded by the uncomfortable glow of uncertainty.
I‘ve been put underneath a microscope my entire life, and have never needed to ask why. I watch as people walk by while their eyes ask the questions their lips don’t dare. A familiar chill runs down my spine because I know most don’t see me first. They see my wheelchair and the label that comes with it.
Part of me doesn’t blame those who silently interrogate me. Another part of me secretly despises the automatic connection made between my disability and how it simultaneously gives others a scale to gauge my abilities.
That connection is usually based on the fact I look meek, mild, and almost feeble on the surface. I wish it wasn’t that way, but I’m well aware of the label placed on me. It’s my personal responsibility to decide how I wear that label because it, in turn, determines how I’m treated.
That’s the primary reason why I put my heart and soul into everything I will ever do. It’s not because I strive to be liked or even admired, nor because I was raised to always find a way to make things work. It’s because I want to eventually be accepted—and do everything I can to carve out a place in society for myself.
In the eyes of those who simply write me off, I might not look like I know exactly what’s going on around me. They’re likely not going to see that I’m very observant and probably know too much for my own good. They’re not going to take note of the fact I’m adopted from Korea, either. It has admittedly taken me many years to be OK with all of this, which has helped me become more accepting of people who don’t share my beliefs and viewpoints.
I’ve found the people who are willing to ask me questions are the same ones who are willing to accept me for who I am. They acknowledge the label I wear as a badge of honor without calling obvious attention to it. There’s no better feeling in the world than that!
I know I have a shadow much bigger than my body. It’s difficult for some people to see anything else. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around that because I’ve always tried not to limit my view of the world. I may not be able to leave my shadow behind, but I try my best to quietly shed the weight it puts on my shoulders.
That is what makes me different. When I came to understand the ways of my own world, I knew I had my personal mission. I never want to give anyone a reason to believe I’m “the girl in a wheelchair”. If anything, I hope to change some minds.
I know how I want to be seen. I find my place in society by learning to adapt to my circumstance and writing about my experiences. This is something worthwhile. It gives people a reason to pause—and perhaps think, ‘Hey, this girl knows what she’s doing. Maybe we were wrong…’
When my world gets heavy, the power of writing and living my truth always brings me to a better place. It has become my gateway to true and full acceptance and opened the door for those who may be standing outside waiting for the right time to knock. So, will you come in?
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Photo credit: Pixabay