My now husband, Mark, who I met online, didn’t believe I used a wheelchair until he saw me seated there in my TiLite ZRA. I had on a green tank top with blue flared jeans covering my feet. I wonder if I wore shoes that day. I frequently did not in the bell bottom jeans era cause really what difference did it make. Stars and moons from my paediatric sized seat cushion peaked out beside my thighs, because I was too cheap to pay $90 to have a plain black cover made. Yup, that describes how I looked waiting outside of HMV at the end of the mall corridor to meet the potential love of my life.
Mark and I had started talking online about 5 weeks earlier. Full credit to Lavalife for this happily-ever-after. My disability was not obvious in my profile. I didn’t disclose my disability in my 100 word write up and my wheelchair was not visible in my profile photo. Also, in my defence, Lavalife did not even provide the option for my height of 3’6”. Weird. 4’11” it was then.
I vaguely remember the very first communication Mark and I had. It was June and I had taken the 72 hour train trip from Toronto to Vancouver with a friend to visit another friend. One evening the three of us were lounging around, still recovering from our previous night in Whistler. I had quickly logged into my Lavalife account from my friend’s computer and there was the most endearing message from a boy in a straw hat, “hey, I’m mark, how are you?”. Okay, so actually a pretty simple message, but really let’s appreciate that there were a) no sexual innuendos; b) no immediate request for more pics; c) no lame pick-up lines; d) most importantly – he asked a question!!! Anyone with online dating experience will probably attest to the fact that this is a remarkably rare occurrence. Not wanting to be the lame friend who travels across the country to sit on an online dating site at her friend’s house, I quickly shot him back an equally simple message with my msn info and logged off. Fast forward 4 weeks and dozens of msn and phone conversations later, we were eager to meet each other.
Mark tells me that he never fully believed that I used a wheelchair until he met me. A few weeks into our chats, once we knew we wanted to meet up, I told him about my disability.
“But I thought you said you’re a synchronized swimmer?”.
“I am”.
“But I thought you drive?”
“I do”.
“But I thought you’re at University?”
“Mmhmm”.
“But I thought…”
You get the picture. His questioning unfortunately perfectly exemplifies the perceptions that society has of people with disabilities; that ‘wheelchair user + athlete’ or ‘wheelchair user + educated’ or ‘wheelchair use’ + successful’ cannot co-exist and are attributes that cannot possibly describe the same person. The construct that some people form of “disability” can be SO strong (and wrong), that even when I was telling Mark direct information, he couldn’t get it to all fit comfortably in his mind to completely believe it. Really, that’s hugely frustrating, disappointing and does society a great disservice. But that’s for another blog post.
Back to Mark. So there he was, now standing in front of me, in front of that HMV realizing ‘holy sh*t, she really is in a wheelchair’, (as he tells me later). Like so many others, his previous beliefs about disability were restricting and not favourable, BUT, unlike so many others, he was able to reconstruct his mindset and question everything he thought he knew about life in a wheelchair. It doesn’t take a hero, or a saint to date or marry someone with a disability. Instead, until general perceptions about disability really begin to change, it might take someone who is willing to challenge their own beliefs, be open to different perspectives, and be comfortable enough with themselves to do so.
Mark was that someone. And now here WE are, 14 years later and not only is Mark my (super, amazing, dependable, loving) husband, but also one of my biggest allies when it comes to advocating for the disability community.
Mark doesn’t necessarily see past my wheelchair or my disability. He can stare straight at it and love it and adore it and appreciate it because my wheelchair and my disability are part of me. Of course it’s not all of who I am, but my disability has undoubtedly shaped my experiences and my personality and I wouldn’t be me without it. By acknowledging my disability, we can acknowledge the work that still needs to be done in the world to make it a more accessible and inclusive place to people of all abilities.
I am so grateful I have someone next to me who is so kind, humble and excited to take on this world with me, however unconventional our way of making things work may be!
2 comments
May other people be inspired by your story, not as a model to be followed, but as a possibility to be happy.
your amazing women!