Disabled Fat and Fabulous

I was out a couple of weeks ago, sat in my wheelchair drinking coffee and an old friend (who is also disabled) spotted me and came over to say hi. They asked how I was, and I said I was doing good. They looked me up and down with pity and actually said 'awww, bless you'. I didn't realise what they did straight away, but after the encounter I told my wife how uncomfortable it made me. It made me feel less than, it made me feel bad about myself. I was having a relatively good day; fatigue wasn't taking over, anxiety had allowed me to leave the house and I liked the outfit I was wearing. But now I had to fight with these thoughts of inadequacy, brought on by someone I thought understood making a stupid gesture. I'm a disabled person who uses a wheelchair when I'm outside the house. I love my wheelchair, and I'm proud to use my mobility aids. And I use what I need depending on what I'm doing and how I'm feeling. My chair allows me to go to places I would

July is Disability Pride Month. It's not well known about, unless you are part of or know someone who is part of the community. It's about celebrating disabled people. Celebrating our humanity, our talent, creativity, uniqueness and points of view. It's about bringing attention to the fact that disabled people still don't have equality in today's world and reminding the world that we are here. Educating people about challenges we face, the stigmas, the myths, the gaslighting and the inaccessibility. Disability pride is not about toxic positivity. It's not about saying that everything is amazing, or saying 'we can do anything despite our disability'. It's not about those stupid memes saying 'I'm disabled and I can do it, what's your excuse?', or telling us how inspirational we are. *Cue vomit in mouth*. It's important to show our reality, the good and bad. It's saying that we are disabled but we are still people. We have good d

Not all disabled people are unemployed. That statement sometimes surprises people, but it shouldn't. There's a belief that disabled people don't work. A stigma that we are 'benefit scroungers'. We are not. Most disabled people would love to work. We'd love the community, the job and the independence among other things. First of all let me say that if you don't work, that is perfectly fine. I don't work, because I can't. My illnesses mean my legs couldn't keep up with a physical job, like I used to do. My hands cramp and spasm after using them for more than a couple of minutes meaning I couldn't do a desk job, my migraines, fatigue and vertigo mean that I can't always sit up, be in a well lit room, concentrate or stay awake. It's important to note that the stigma comes from ableism. The level of ableism that society is currently functioning at stems from hundreds of years ago, when disabled people simply died because of improper care,