I was in a supermarket queue, parked in my scooter, mentally calculating whether I had enough energy left to unload my basket at the checkout without incident. That’s when I heard it.
“You’d know if they were struggling though, wouldn’t you ?”
Oh boy. Here we go.
I wasn’t planning on overhearing a debate about my existence while waiting for checkout, but life comes at you fast. Hidden disabilities are called ‘hidden’ for a reason, yet some people seem convinced they come with flashing neon signs. Surely, if someone were in pain, overstimulated, or dealing with chronic fatigue, it would be obvious. Maybe a dramatic fainting spell for effect? Collapse on the floor and roll around in pain? Something visible enough to be taken seriously?
Life doesn’t work that way.
Since I didn’t have the energy to launch into an impromptu TED Talk in the bread aisle, I’m putting it here instead. Because honestly? The world would be a much easier place if more people got it.
“You Don’t Look Disabled” Is Not a Compliment - It’s a Problem
Ah yes, because disabilities are meant to be aesthetic. Mine isn’t a tragic movie plot complete with an orchestral score, it’s just daily life. Smiling through pain. Navigating obstacles people don’t see. And yes, sometimes parked in a queue hoping the energy meter doesn’t hit empty before I reach the till.
I could pretend it’s fine. That I’m fine. That I’m ‘just tired’ and ‘it’s nothing.’ But it’s not nothing. It’s everything.
Accessibility Isn’t Just About Wheelchair Ramps - It’s About Reality
Ramps are great. So are lifts, but have you tried processing small print when your brain feels like it’s buffering? Or enduring the blaring lights and endless noise of a packed supermarket while your nervous system screams?
Every step is a negotiation. My body sending warning signals, my mind trying to override them. I reach the checkout, my heart pounding, not from exertion, but from the quiet knowledge that even this, this, is a battle I’ll pretend isn’t happening.
Living with Chronic Illness: The Ultimate Mystery Box
Some days, I can breeze through a shopping trip. Other days, holding a box of cereal feels like weightlifting.
It’s like showing up to a marathon only to realize you started the race yesterday, and everyone else is running while you’re trying to remember how to move.
Willpower Won’t Cure My Disability
Oh wow, what insight! I’ll just try harder to make my body cooperate! I’ll just push through brain fog! I’ll just override my disability through sheer willpower!
Small Acts of Understanding Aren’t Small - They’re Everything
The best thing you can do? Believe people. If someone asks for accommodations, assume they actually need them. If a friend cancels plans again, trust they’re not making excuses, they’re managing their reality. Adjust, be flexible, and recognize that kindness makes the world easier for everyone.
Kindness is free, but understanding? That changes lives.
Final Thought: Thoughtfulness Adds Up, Action Matters
That overheard conversation reminded me, it’s not about fixing everything, but about doing something. A bit of thoughtfulness goes a long way.
The more we talk about this, the better things get, but action matters too. Next time you see someone requesting accommodations or struggling, take a second to support, not question.
Seen or experienced something that made a difference?
Let’s swap stories. Because every conversation helps move the needle forward.
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