Dating a girl in a wheelchair
It was wonderful, and scared me, and made me hyper self conscious about being disabled.
I felt like the Goddess of Thunder (not in a good way). It was hard for me to push the chair because of the cross slope for rain run off, but I didn’t want to ask for help and appear weak or needy.In this social environment whole years of my life passed with unrequited longing on my part. People often asked if I was disabled before we got married.(Even able-bodied women my age will say this sounds familiar). They’re looking for trophies; women their male friends will envy. When I told them I was their response was: “Oh well, he knew what he was getting himself into then.” (Honestly, people have no idea what they are saying sometimes).But in the climate that prevailed at the time, people were shocked that I dared to hope for romance and physical intimacy. I was taught all of societies’ biases: that people with disabilities are different, sub-human, to be avoided (which is why we segregated them).It was as if, somehow, my disability made me less human to them. And yet, when I became one of “them,” I was, still me.