Let’s talk about internalized ableism. What a topic. There’s so much to say about it. I was inspired to write this post by something I saw on Instagram, saying something like, ableism is a mindset. I was intrigued by that. To me, internalized ableism is this idea of ableism turned inward, meaning, when a disabled person is ableist toward themselves. That might seem obvious, of course, but identifying instances of it might not be. I’ve had difficulty with it, and I’ve been disabled since birth. That means I’ve over three decades of lived experience with being disabled. Did I just reveal my age range? Oops. Oh well. My age is a fact, just like my disability is a fact. There’s no shame in either of those things. Let’s go ahead and repeat that for the people in the back. There’s no shame in being disabled or saying the actual word disabled. Disabled is not a bad word. Common sentiment. That’s because there’s truth in it.
Internalized ableism is real, and speaking from my own experience, shutting out those negative thoughts is quite the exercise on its own. I’ll give you some examples. Remember, though, they’re just thoughts. We are all more than our thoughts….let’s go. So, it’s no secret that my disability makes me walk slower. Trust me, I feel like a tortoise most of the time, especially when I’m trying to walk inside without my crutches or cane and I’m not wearing shoes. Very specific instance, I know. Believe it or not, the right shoe is so important for me. Meanwhile, as I’m just trying to move around, I hear the voice in my head screaming things like move faster, come on. Go! That voice gets frustrated. Really, my legs are doing the best they can…what with the signals in my brain getting mixed up and all those over-firing neurons….no, I didn’t just make that up. We can get into the science of it another time. That’s just a mild example. Now to dig deeper.
My biggest ableist thought probably has to do with dating while disabled. I know, I know, I talked about this a bit in my last blog post. What do you want? It’s a big topic. I’m going to get vulnerable for a second. Back in high school, when I was an angry and confused teenager, I was convinced that I’d never get a boyfriend. Sounds naive and foolish in retrospect. I didn’t think anybody’d want to date me because of my disability. Yikes. It’s a harsh truth. In fact, I have this distinct memory of opening up to one of my teachers about it. I went to a very special, tight-knit high school, so it’s not like having heart to hearts was unordinary. At this point, I don’t remember what led up to the comment. I do remember what happened after. In her empty classroom — I was always the last to leave — I said something like, I don’t think anyone will ever do that, as in date me. I immediately caught the expression on my teacher’s face. I don’t recall what she said but I’ll never forget the heartbroken look in her eyes.
It was significant that I saw her face because often when someone’s depressed, they have trouble glancing outward and noticing things outside of themselves and the harmful thoughts in their head. Yes, I was depressed back then. I just didn’t know it. And yes, that statement was made pre-therapy. Side note, I often find myself dividing my life into sections labeled pre-therapy and post-therapy. That’s how much of an impact therapy has had on my life and how much it’s helped me become a better person. To be clear, I haven’t stopped going to therapy. When I say post, I mean post starting it. Ok, that’s the end of my shameless, obvious go to therapy! plug. Seriously. More people should go. The world would probably be a much better place.
What’s the moral of this story? Well. A thought or mindset like, nobody will ever be romantically interested in me because I’m disabled is internalized ableism in its purest, evilest form. At least it is according to me. I honestly wish I could go back and slap some sense into my teenage self, but you know what everybody says about hindsight. How was the sixteen year-old version of me supposed to know that I’d start dating and that I’d eventually meet my soulmate when I was just 23? That teenage girl had no idea. Truly.
That girl had no idea about anything, really. Just being transparent here. Which is not to say that teenagers are generally dumb. I’m not saying that at all. I certainly wasn’t a dumb teenager, I just had less life experience. My “problems” back then seem so much simpler now that I’m an adult….with different, more difficult, heavier problems. Maybe I shouldn’t have put the word problems in quotes. In the name of giving myself credit, which I almost never do, it was hard being a teenager and reconciling having cerebral palsy at the same time. It took another level of strength to get through all that. At least the journey built character.
Comic Book Guy voice Longest. Tangent. Ever. To sum it all up, internalized ableism is real but it’s important to remember that those ableist thoughts in your head are also ridiculous. In case you’re wondering what inspired this post title…..to quote a lawyerly saying I like, feelings are not facts. They’re just that. Feelings. I’m not trying to discount them, as I know they are real, and of course that’s ok. But it doesn’t mean those internalized, ableist feelings are necessarily true. To anyone who might be disabled and reading this, the next time that voice in your head tries to spew out something nasty and ableist, try and shut it off. Better yet, try and shut it up. Much easier said than done — but we owe it to ourselves to try. We have so much to offer, romantically or otherwise. Like I said, we are so much more than our thoughts. I’ll get off my soap box now. Rant over. Post over.
The Spastic Diplege 