Month: December 2019

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Concluding a Decade

It was almost impossible not to write a concluding reflection about the last year, actually, about the last decade. 

I’ll start from the beginning. In 2010 I was serving in the Israeli Air Force as a First Lieutenant at Flight school. I built, from scratch, a role of managing three operation rooms and seven unique soldiers. I was responsible for their personal and professional well-being, all of whom were no younger than me than by two years. It was one of the most challenging and rewarding experience I’ve ever had. During that year, I’ve finished my service and went travelling around Thailand and Laos. I’ve learnt to connect with others using other things but words, and appreciate my privilege in the hierarchy of the plant. 

Me passing the baton. Image description: a person in khaki uniform, holding a purple tinsel, she is looking away from the camera.

In 2011 I was studying: history, Bible studies and literature, to improve my already-high high-school grades with the aim of landing a medical school spot. When finishing those exams (with excellent marks I must admit), I decided to go travelling again. Cambodia, Vietnam, Thailand. During that trip I decided to ditch the childhood dream of medicine (thank goodness). I also met a nice Australian guy. 

Meeting an Australian guy. image description: two people on a hammock: a man is smiling with eyes almost closed, wearing a yellow singlet: a woman is smiling, looking at him, wearing a white singlet.

2012 was the year I moved to Australia to be with the Australian guy (ok, Mike) and study psychology. I’ve adjusted to living in the unpredictable and cold Melbourne weather, and the unfamiliar Australian culture. I’ve continued studying and getting to know Melbourne and Australia, volunteering in the community, and making life-long friends along the way. 

Learning about Christmas. Image description: a woman standing with one hand on her head. she is wearing a red long-sleeve top and red reindeer antlers.

In 2014, after finishing my psychology degree, Mike and I went back to live in Israel. I worked two mental health jobs (simultaneously).

Tel-Avivian life. A meal on the balcony was one of my favorite rituals. Image description: brown wooden table on balcony, a street visible in the background. On the table is a salad; two plates with sandwiches; a water bottle; glass cups.

In 2015, I got engaged (to Mike). Four days later my last living grandparent passed away. The year finished with a pre-wedding honeymoon in Europe and Japan. That was one of the best trips I’ve ever had. 

A moment in Japan. I am walking with a walking stick because I’m barely walking after exhausting my leg. There is always a price to pretending and pushing yourself too much. Image description: a woman is standing with a walking stick, holding an umbrella, camera hung on her neck. She is standing next to a pond, with trees in the background.

In February of 2016 I got married to Mike (the Australian guy). Then I started a Psychology Honours degree. While doing that, I started working as a mental health counsellor, a job which I am still doing. I graduated from my Psychology Honours degree. 

A bride. Image description: a woman in a white wedding dress. She wears a white flower crown and is smiling.

2017 was a tough one. I had to prepare for a testimony in a court case about my disability. It was something I never wanted to do, and never thought I’d have to do. I spent months with a therapist preparing for it. I tried to explain to my colleagues it wasn’t a holiday (even though I used all my leave to go). Testifying indeed was extremely triggering. The weeks I spent around family and friends, who didn’t know anything about it, was also challenging. No one knew about the court case. Hiding it, pretending I wasn’t going through re-traumatisation, was exhausting. Thankfully, the year ended on a positive note, as Mike and I moved homes and got Chilli the puppy (on the same day!). 

  • Bringing Chilli home. Image description: woman holding a cocker spaniel puppy, who is licking her face. She is smiling.

In June 2018 I gave birth to my son. I then spent almost a year at home full-time with him. That was one of the most challenging and rewarding experiences of my life. Yes, it was harder than my military service. The intensity and size of my emotions, as well as the natural tendency to reflect on one’s experiences after a baby’s arrival, brought me back to writing. 

With my precious one, at our six-week check up. Image description: woman sitting on green chair, holding a small baby. She is smiling. The baby is looking away from the camera.

In 2019 I’ve been writing, more and more. I’ve also been performing- reading out my poems to other people has been more rewarding and exhilarating than I expected. Connecting with other readers and writers, in person and online, has been brilliant. Importantly, this process of writing, reading, reflecting, and connecting, has brought me to where I am today. I am much more self-aware about my internalised ableism, as well as about the societal impact I’ve experienced throughout my life to create that. I am tackling both the external and internalised ableist attitudes now by challenging it daily. Sometimes multiple times a day. 

Performing my poem A Visit. Image description: a woman standing in front of red microphone. she is wearing glasses, light blue shirt and black scarf.

Today I’m determined to continue writing and connecting with people, educating others about ableism and promote inclusiveness. 

So what can I expect from the next year, or decade? It is hard to tell. I hope to be looking back and be amazed about the progress made by our society. I hope to be just as likely to pick up a book by a disabled woman than by a white cis man. I hope to be just as likely to see a disabled protagonist on TV and the movies, as an able-bodied white male. 

Why? Because it is time. It is time all of us marginalised and silenced people have a voice. It is time young, disabled, transgender, immigrant, Aboriginal girls feel included, like they have a place. It is time for them to know they can succeed and thrive, just by being themselves.  

Until next time, 

L. K. Bridgford 

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This Holiday Season I Am Looking At My Internalised Ableism Straight In The Eye

This is my second post about the topic, and I feel an urge to write it right now, as we are in the midst of the holiday season. ‘The most wonderful time of the year’ for many of us brings to mind images of ‘perfection’; a perfect family picture, a perfect meal, perfect weather, perfect bodies. Images of able-bodied plump babies, happy toddlers and well-rested parents overshadow our social media for months. Unless you are aware of ableism and are conscious about following disabled people who are proud of who they are and post real-life photos of their bodies. 

For many years, the majority of my life in fact, I have not been aware of ableism or the internalised ableism I have been living with for about thirty years. It is exhausting. Hating yourself and never feeling like you’re good enough is tiring. It means you’re always trying to cover up, physically and metaphorically. You omit parts of your day, your feelings, your experiences, your body. Of yourself. It is isolating as you are left feeling like no one really knows you or understand how you feel. How can they, when you’ve never let them in? 

My Holidays/Everyday shoes. These are custom-made to fit my very different feet. Comfort=Beauty. Image description: two black leather boots with white stripes on the sides.

The last year or so I have gone through a journey and started looking into my internalised ableism in the eye. If you don’t know what ableism is, do yourself a favour and google it. Thank goodness for technology. And books. Thanks to books and social media, I have been exposing myself to different views of disability and slowly been flashing out my own internalised ableism in the process. Realising I was feeling ‘less than’ so often has been a revelation. It’s happened through reading stories of other disabled people and realising I was not the only one feeling isolated, ashamed, excluded or in physical and emotional pain. Connecting with others with my own (rare) condition has also been life-changing, after never meeting anyone else with it. I have always been the only child with crutches, leg brace or regularly vising the hospital growing up. I’ve never seen any disabled persons on TV or in a book (and I read everything) or on the big screen. I learned that being able-bodied is the norm. I.e. to be beautiful, sexy, successful, you have to be able-bodied. And I wasn’t, and was never going to be. How depressing is that?

  • Post Christmas rest with one of several great books I got. Image description: two legs resting on a grey couch, with a cocker spaniel against the left one. The right one is shorted, skinnier with a smaller foot, scarred below he knee. A book is laid on the thighs, it is Play All by Clive James. 

After about a year of reflecting, reading and connecting, I can confidently say now that I am no longer ashamed of who I am. Of my disability. When I looked at my internalised ableism in the eye, I realised I had the power to release myself from it. I decided to get out of the prison society told me to live in. Learning disability language, and having role models who are proud of their disability, rather than ashamed, provided me with the tools to become ‘perfect’, as I am. To be truly happy with what I’ve got, accepting it and even being grateful for it. Having a disability provided me with life experiences I could have never had without one. All of which have led me to where I am today and who I am. And I love my life! I am not like everyone else (despite being told I was for many years) and that is a GOOD thing. I don’t want to be like everyone else. Actually, no one is like anyone else anyway. It’s called human diversity. 

This holiday season I have decided not to hide. I didn’t choose my clothing based on how much they’ll cover my scarred, small leg. Just based on my mood in the morning. I felt like wearing a dress and so I did. This morning, I went for a walk around the neighbourhood in a new and favourite pair of shorts. Walking with my head high and leg in the fresh air feels like bungee jumping (I have done that once before if you must know). My leg has been hidden behind long pants for so long, even in 40-degree days, just so I could pretend to be someone I am not. I am done pretending. 

This Hanukkah/Christmas time I am proud of who I am, and it feels great. So I am posting some photos of my real-unedited-life, including my leg. Because it is a part of me. And it doesn’t make my photos less perfect. In fact, my leg being there makes the photos even more special and perfect. 

Happy holidays.

Until next time, 

L. K. Bridgford 

Unedited Multicultural Holidays. Images description: first- small lighted Christmas tree, Hanukkah Hanukia and koala plush toy. Second- Blackboard with Merry Christmas and Hebrew Happy Hanukkah captions with chalk drawings, with plastic toys thrown around it. Third- Lit Hanukkah candles on stone Hannukia, Christmas decorations in the background.

P. S. If you need ideas about awesome people to follow on social media or great books to read, feel free to message me on social media (link on the bottom right of the page).