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?
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
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).