This post is part of Blogging Against Disablism Day #BADD2015 . Please click the link to read the other posts
being published for BADD 2015.
I was going to write
about something else but I had a last-minute flash of inspiration for this
post. It's something that has been forming as an idea for a while, but I didn't
think until today about publishing it for BADD.
Some time ago, I
came across this TED talk
by Sue Austin, a disabled artist. I was really taken by much of what she said
about narrative, and I really related to her experiences.
Society imposes
narratives on people all the time. As disabled people, we are no different. We
have many narratives imposed on us, many of them negative.
Last year, I went on
a short break with my husband to Snowdonia. "Your life must be hell!"
exclaimed the B&B owner, on learning that I was chronically ill (I wasn't
able to think of a way to not tell him why I was using a wheelchair). I tried
to tell him that, no, my life was not hell, thanks very much, but he wasn't
really having any of it. He'd made up his mind, and it took 3 days of seeing me
not living the life from hell (I was on holiday after all!) for him
to unmake it. "You actually seem pretty happy" he said on the last
day. Yes, yes I am, and you know that now that you actually know me, I thought.
You see, it isn't
that I don't think anyone's life can be hell when they're ill. But mine isn't,
and I get just a bit fed up when people assume that my life must be rubbish
because I'm disabled, especially when they don't know anything else about me.
My life, just like everyone else's, is a mixture of experiences; good, bad,
bittersweet and everything in between.
It's not just
assumptions about my life either. People make assumptions about my abilities,
when they know nothing about them. Last year I attended the AGM of a local
group who I'd recently become a member of. They were looking for people for the
committee, and I was approached. I made the mistake, yet again, of mentioning
that I'm chronically ill. The reaction was, 'I'll leave you alone then.'
Noooooooooo! I thought. An opportunity to participate in my local community
slipping through my fingers because of
an assumption that I can't do anything because I'm ill. Fortunately, I spoke to
other people and I've joined the committee anyway.
People make these
assumptions because society tells us particular stories about disabled people.
Disability narrative is full of pity, tragedy and fear. We are told that we are
useless, worthless and a burden on society. Having supportive people in my life
and being trained as a social worker to see people's strengths didn't stop me
from absorbing this narrative for a while.
But no more. Slowly,
I have realised that I don't have to let outside forces tell my story. I
shouldn't let them, because that story isn't true, especially now. Yes, I was
unhappy when I was first ill. It was a loss, I grieved. But when I came out the
other side of that grief, I realised that the rest of the world hadn't
travelled with me. I was dismayed, outraged at times, to discover that other
people saw me so differently to how I saw myself. It was a source of
frustration for a while, until I realised that actually, I didn't have to
listen to that story that was being told about me. I could tell my own story.
I've been telling it to myself for a while, and it has really empowered me, and
helped me to take back my confidence and self worth. Today I'm sharing
that story with you.
My name is Melanie.
I am a wife, sister, daughter, friend. I write. I create. I cook. I have
challenges. I have fun. I have suffered losses. I experience many emotions, but
mainly I am happy. I am living with a chronic illness. I adore being outside in
the sunshine. I make mistakes. I love eating good food. I am disabled. I enjoy
good conversation. I am doing my best.
Look at me.
 |
| Photo credit: Lydia Brockless. Photo description: the picture shows woodland with bare trees, blue sky and sunshine. I am sitting in my wheelchair in front of a tree, with my arms flung back and my face towards the sky. |
I am thriving.