She makes some great points. As a quadriplegic, I can definitely relate to
1. People expressing pity. This doesn't always need to be verbal, the look people give me is sometimes all it takes to remind me that I'm not "normal".
2. Being called "strong" or "brave". This is frustrating not because I think it's not a genuine compliment, but because it genuinely isn't true. I certainly don't consider myself an exceptionally inspirational person: I just try to live a normal life like any average schmuck in the upper-middle class in a first world country. I may have had the misfortune of being born with a disability, but in many ways I've been exceptionally lucky: born in a moderately wealthy family, academically nurtured by good teachers, granted an Ivy-league education as a result of good teachers, and given a comfortable career in BigSoftware as a result of said education. Nothing in my life is exceptionally off course from that of a pampered son -- aside from my lack of arm or leg function.
3. Restaurants and stores lying about their accessibility. This is a huge problem with review sites and often is a stark reminder that the world fundamentally wasn't designed for people like me from a UX perspective.
This article also captured a lot of my concerns with dating as a disabled person. I realize that any woman I get into a relationship with has to, in a way, endure my pains as a disabled person. That the pity, genuine-but-wrong compliments and the wrenching realization that the world is for the ambulatory easily spreads like a disease from me to the people that I love.
It's definitely frustrating. I am glad that she seems happy with her marriage for now though. As a quadriplegic, I know that we don't have a good track record for happy relationships, which has always been something that keeps me up at night. Steven Hawking [1] and Christy Brown [2] are two examples of quads I can think of who have been known to have less-than-fulfilling marriages.
I hope that I can do better, but for now I'll just focus on being a better software engineer so people have something else to look at besides my disability :)
While I wholeheartedly agree to your points, and I feel it really is bad to focus on someone's disability when there's so much more there to inquiry about (a whole human with skills, stories, wisdom, successes, failures, interesting and differing points of view), I must offer a counterpoint:
In most humans, the different is intriguing, and while a disabled person has all of the same (and good and interesting) attributes I've listed above as all other people, they also have this extra bit of experience which is their disability and which most people don't have.
I am with you that you should be genuinely bummed at watered down compliments and empty shit like 'warrior', 'brave' and all that awkward stuff that just makes you the center of attention for no reason. In essence, We are ALL warriors and each day we win at making money, getting fed, and breathing is a victory and a blessing (another chance to do it again tomorrow, possibly better!).
But, please notice that some people are just specifically curious about how do you go about your day, how different it is to tackle the same challenges they have but with your perspective (people normally like to compare, so it's not gonna be different with you and it shouldn't if you wanna be level). So if you recognize an honest and genuinely curious person among those other in the crowd that are just bringing up your stuff because they have ran out of subjects to talk, well, telling them those tiny details of your life is a sure fire way to get past that awkwardness and condescending membrane and will bring you together in a deeper way than most watercooler conversations you've been caught up.
1. People expressing pity. This doesn't always need to be verbal, the look people give me is sometimes all it takes to remind me that I'm not "normal".
2. Being called "strong" or "brave". This is frustrating not because I think it's not a genuine compliment, but because it genuinely isn't true. I certainly don't consider myself an exceptionally inspirational person: I just try to live a normal life like any average schmuck in the upper-middle class in a first world country. I may have had the misfortune of being born with a disability, but in many ways I've been exceptionally lucky: born in a moderately wealthy family, academically nurtured by good teachers, granted an Ivy-league education as a result of good teachers, and given a comfortable career in BigSoftware as a result of said education. Nothing in my life is exceptionally off course from that of a pampered son -- aside from my lack of arm or leg function.
3. Restaurants and stores lying about their accessibility. This is a huge problem with review sites and often is a stark reminder that the world fundamentally wasn't designed for people like me from a UX perspective.
This article also captured a lot of my concerns with dating as a disabled person. I realize that any woman I get into a relationship with has to, in a way, endure my pains as a disabled person. That the pity, genuine-but-wrong compliments and the wrenching realization that the world is for the ambulatory easily spreads like a disease from me to the people that I love.
It's definitely frustrating. I am glad that she seems happy with her marriage for now though. As a quadriplegic, I know that we don't have a good track record for happy relationships, which has always been something that keeps me up at night. Steven Hawking [1] and Christy Brown [2] are two examples of quads I can think of who have been known to have less-than-fulfilling marriages.
I hope that I can do better, but for now I'll just focus on being a better software engineer so people have something else to look at besides my disability :)
[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stephen_Hawking
[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christy_Brown