I love it when you patronise me x

14th Nov 202220th Nov 2022 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 1 Comment

Having a physical disability since birth has impacted my life and personality in more ways than I’d ever be able to measure, which is why it’s always been odd when people have asked me whether I’d wish my disability away if I could. Clearly, the implication here is that life with a disability is seeped in stress and depression, so people think that it’d be totally understandable for me to sit there, teary-eyed, wishing that I wasn’t a person with Spina Bifida. And don’t get me wrong, there are moments when I feel this way (after all, it doesn’t always seem fair that I have this extra sack of sh- to deal with) but life is difficult for everyone at times, and I don’t know who or what I’d be without my physical disability. This doesn’t make me proud to be disabled or particularly enthused that I am, it just means that asking whether I wish I wasn’t is a bit of a silly question.

And yet, I’ve been asked this question on more than one occasion, so obvs I’ve given some thought to whether there are aspects of my personality that stem directly from having a disability, and whether there are ones that I’d probably have anyway. For the most part, I think that many of my personality traits have probably just been amplified by living with Spina Bifida, but I will say that I don’t think that this is the case for my silliness or adventurousness. If anything, I’ve had to make an active effort to not allow the disability to crush those natural personality traits. But on the other side of things, I do believe that there are also parts of my personality that have been formed as a direct result of living with Spina Bifida. For example, I have an incredibly low tolerance for being patronised.

Everybody’s experience with a physical disability is different, but from my short life so far, I will say that being patronised by literally anyone is just part and parcel of being disabled. It happens at hospital appointments, at school, amongst friends, at pretty much any public event you go to where you ask for disability assistance, in airports, in the doorway as you try to get into a club; honestly, I’ll be here all day if I list everywhere I’ve been patronised so we’ll leave it there for now. But what I sense you’re wanting me to explain, is how exactly people have been patronising towards me, because saying that it happens to me all of the time has likely made you a little self-conscious about whether you’ve been an active or passive bystander in the treatment of the disabled by the public. Or at least, I hope that that was a little thought in your head just now.

I’m not going to lie to you, there’s a specific voice that some people use when speaking to disabled people which puts my back RIGHT up when I hear it, but it’s almost impossible for me to describe with words. I’m even getting irritated just thinking about it (lol), but basically, people talk slower and softer, as if the words coming out of their mouths might break poor, defenseless, disabled me, even though quite often, the words they’re actually saying are denying me the help or respect I just politely asked for. Then there are the moments when you’re just straight-up dismissed or ignored, but honestly, I feel like I don’t get triggered so much by those because at least I’m not being treated as if I’m so fragile that one wrong move and I might break.

Undoubtedly, I’m also patronised because I’m a young woman (no surprises from the patriarchy there), it’s just that the physical disability provides an extra opportunity for society to infantilise me. Which is fun!

Sometimes I feel like my natural tendency towards being silly and positive means that I don’t always come across as a woman who can hold her own, but the fact is that people wouldn’t respond to me well if my reaction to being patronised because of my disability, age, and/or gender was blind fury – even though sometimes that’s exactly what I feel. And I’m not saying that I experience these sorts of things on the daily, but when I do, it can take everything within me to stay calm because in the moments when I have reacted wholly honestly, nobody likes or listens to a hysterical woman. So you smile and wave, you shelve the fury, and you bite back just enough so as to stand up for yourself, without losing their attention. It’s infuriating, but it’s a skill that you have to have if you’re disabled (and female), thus, it’s not one that I’d like to wish away.

But trust me, once you’ve recognised the ‘voice’ I tried to describe before, it’s something you’ll never un-hear. So please, for gods sake, try to not be the person to use it.

I’m not boring, I swear

7th Nov 2022 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I’ve been humbled this month, because it’s now painfully clear to me that I’m a lot of talk when it comes to romantic relationships and not a lot of walk. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been the girl who sits there and reels off the relationship advice to my friends when they’ve come to me with problems – not to mention the blogs I’ve written on the subject – without ever really knowing what I’m talking about. (But to be fair, I must be pretty decent at this agony aunt role, given that my friends keep asking me for help…)

Like most, I’ve had my fair share of mistreatment in romantic situations but I also haven’t reeeaally put myself fully out there since I was a teenager, so as much as I talk about this topic, I’m more of an observer in this world rather than an active participant. And I’ve cemented this as a part of my identity, by having a tendency to latch onto situations I know aren’t going to work, simply because the inevitability of it never really going anywhere means I don’t ever really have to put myself out there. So basically, I’m just really scared of falling in love, and the world of dating kind of freaks me out.

Honestly, I just find it strange that you’re meant to go to spend time with someone you barely know, present yourself to them, and then at the end of those few hours spent together, decide whether ‘there’s anything there’. And yes, I acknowledge that I do think about these things far too much and should just let it be, but you only have to watch one episode of First Dates to be reminded of just how stress-inducing this type of human interaction is. It’s as if the idea that this is the time when you should get to know a person sucks every ounce of relaxation out of the moment and just transforms it into one hundred and one ways to say something you’d probably never say if you were with your friends, but you’re saying it now because you’re across from someone who’s expecting to get to know you, but what do you actually mean when you ask me what my hobbies are? What even are my hobbies? Do I have hobbies? I swear I wasn’t this boring when I was texting my friend before I arrived here.

And breathe.

That paragraph probably made me seem more stressed about this kind of situation than I actually am, but the point I’m trying to make here is that it’s okay if you’ve been in these situations, where you’ve had this outer-body experience where it’s felt like you’re watching yourself act completely differently to how you know yourself to be. It’s likely because (as I mentioned in last week’s blog), you’re in a situation with a total stranger and it’s a lot to expect yourself to be completely open with them after knowing them for a matter of hours. Plus, dating is a skill which we only seem to gain with practice – I for one do not currently possess this skill. Can I flirt with someone in my general day to day if the feeling is right? Yes I can. Do I know how to apply that to a context which has been explicitly labelled as a date? No I do not. Does that makes any sense? No it does not. But we move! As the marines would say: improvise, adapt, overcome.

Short sidenote here as well: it’s a very British thing for us to not get excited about stuff we love, and to talk down our successes when we’re with other people. Don’t do that, you don’t need to do that. If you’re excited about something or you love it, then speak!! Passion about something is only ever going to be attractive and as a nation, we are poor at talking ourselves up because we don’t want to seem lame. So let’s try to not do that.

Dating is a truly foreign world to me, and falling in love high-key terrifies me. However, flirting is fun, dating is fun, and I’m sure falling in love is some of the most fun a person can possibly have. Therefore, to all my friends who’ve been trying to put themselves out there recently, I’d like to say that I completely understand the frustration of ‘how am I supposed to know if I like this person, when I’ve only spent a few hours with them?’.Nonetheless, my best friends have put me in check by instructing me to only focus on the moment, rather than always going for five steps ahead. Treat it like those flow chart quizzes we used to get in magazines when we were little: do you enjoy spending time with this person? If yes, follow that arrow to ‘see them again’ and if no, follow the arrow to ‘don’t see them again’, and take it from there.

We’ve all been hurt by someone at some point – possibly more than we’d first considered- but it’d be a shame to let that past hurt dictate how much fun you can have in the future. So, trust your instincts and if you make a mistake or if you come across something you don’t like, then hey, that’s helpful information too.

Now brb whilst I try to follow my own advice.

Maybe don’t answer EVERY question…

31st Oct 202231st Oct 2022 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I realised the other day that in the five years since I left school, I’ve spent a hefty amount of my time meeting and developing new relationships with people. I’ve travelled to lots of different places – both abroad and in Britain – and everywhere I’ve been I’ve come across people who I didn’t like, but more often than not, every new place brought me loads of new friends. In some cases, I even did a complete 180 in my opinion of someone as I acknowledged that your first impression of a person might not always be the best representation of what they’re actually like.

I’ve always been somebody who actively enjoys spending time with other people, however, even with this love for a ‘getting to know you’ conversation, I’ve noticed that in the past couple of years I’ve become far more cagey with a new group of people than I ever have been before. But to ensure that we’re all on the same page here, when I say ‘cagey’ I don’t mean that I’m rude or standoffish with people, it’s just that I’ve learned that it’s not always the best move to go into social situations as an entirely open book because by doing that, you don’t leave very much room to protect yourself.

When I was at school, I was the type of person who would tell anyone whatever they wanted to know about me: they could ask about my disability, my family, my fears, my aspirations, who I fancied, or literally anything else they could think of and I’d probably tell them the tale. In fact, I’d love telling the tale. This tendency towards openness and honesty isn’t something that I want to completely get rid of because without it we’d have no blog, and I also wouldn’t be myself, but there have been moments over the past few years when I realised just how exhausting it is to meet new people and answer all of these questions, only for many of those relationships to fizzle at some point. After all, once we’re out of school or university, most of us don’t have the time to maintain loads of friendships in between working and general living. So sometimes, it’s better to conserve your energy and not offload everything about yourself to whatever stranger you get along with for twenty minutes at a party, because repeatedly doing that in environments such as school, university, or a new job, really does take it out of you.

However, this newfound cageyness I’m talking about doesn’t just stem from the fact that it’s tired me out to be so honest, it’s also because I’ve sometimes been a little naive about who I can trust with the more vulnerable aspects of my personality. The fact is, that in order for any relationship to be fulfilling – be it platonic or romantic – there’s got to be an equal amount of effort put in by both sides, but if you’re like me then you might have had a few situations where you’ve realised that you’ve gotten upset because somebody hasn’t given you the same energy you were giving them, and even though that can be painful, were you maybe giving a little too much too quickly?..Then on the other side of this, have you potentially been the person in romantic relationships or friendships who has had somebody open up to you, and you haven’t respected their choice to do that in the way you should’ve?

I’ve probably done both, to be honest: I’ve definitely overshared and then been burnt by someone not caring as much as I thought they would, and I’m human, so I’ve undoubtedly been thought of as not being there for a person in the way they wanted me to be. Therefore, I’m not writing this blog because I think that there’s a perfect level of openness when forming relationships with new people – obvs, it’d be ideal for each of us to look into a crystal ball and know how much we can trust or rely on a person before we invest time into them, but that’d also take all the fun out of meeting and getting to know new people. So, I guess it’s about realising what works well for you in these situations.

For me, I was doing and giving way too much too quickly because I like knowing people really well (because I’m a freak and I find people very interesting), and I kind of figured that if I open up to someone then they’ll open up to me too, without respecting myself enough to acknowledge how exhausting it is to be that way. So, we’re not going to be a totally closed book, because human connection is one of the joys of everyone’s lives, we’re just going to be a liiiittle more selective about it to conserve energy and emotions. It’s all about give and take, and you’ve got to keep an eye on how much you’re letting people take versus how much they’re giving you.

It’s all just a bit too vanilla if you ask me

24th Oct 202224th Oct 2022 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

This is going to feel quite strange to type, but my blog is nothing if not a reflection of what my friends and I have been saying to each other recently, so I’m just going to get straight to it: the ladies in my life are immensely sexually frustrated right now. Some have already fallen victim to their impulses by texting someone that they absolutely shouldn’t, but I hold out hope that by bringing attention to this problem on the blog, we can save some of my friends from that same unfortunate fate.

But before we dive into the details of the sexual frustration complaints I’ve been hearing from the gals, I’d first like to draw attention to the fact that a woman’s desire for sex is vastly underestimated by our society. I mean, most cis lads I’ve come across have assumed that their libido has always been way stronger than that of their cis female peers, but my god, I dare you to spend twenty minutes in a women’s bathroom on a Friday night, or eavesdrop on a group of lasses having a meal together, and then tell me the same thing. Women aren’t nearly as passive as we’ve been told we should be.

Western society has always had a tendency to think that women should feel apathetic towards sex unless there’s something wrong with them, in which case they’re totally obsessed with sex to the point of mania. So basically, either a woman isn’t really bothered about it, or she’s got a problem. This, along with all the other super helpful aspects of living in a patriarchy, has meant that women often feel like they shouldn’t talk about their sexual desires because if they do then they’re going to come across as a slut. However, there’s often a moment in female friendships where you and the woman you’re speaking to try to work out whether this is a safe environment for you to say exactly what you’re feeling, without judgment. It doesn’t always work out this way, but if you’re able to establish that type of trust as an aspect of your friendship, then you’d be lucky if you ever stop talking about sex and relationships with each other.

So, let’s get back to what the ladies have been saying recently then, shall we? Well, the general consensus isn’t that these young women aren’t getting attention from men – lots of them have dating apps where they’re messaging a few lads, or they’ve got some sort of work romance on the go. Their frustration, it seems to me, is coming from the fact that they’re not excited by any of it; the lads they’re meeting up with are lovely, and the conversations are nice, but they want passion. They want someone to give them a good old (consensual, of course) grab, kiss them up against a wall, stop tiptoeing around, and be told exactly what the lad’s thinking so they don’t have to keep guessing and can skip to the fun bit.

But finding this type of connection is difficult and incredibly rare – I’m still holding out for it too gals, don’t worry, I get you. And it’s tricky because when we complain about this heavy sense of boredom we’re all feeling at the minute with dating and sex, we can forget that sometimes we’re expecting lads to read our minds and make all the moves. Clearly, this is us enjoying an aspect of patriarchy that places the man as the one responsible for moving a heterosexual romantic relationship along, but it’s not entirely fair to expect that. However, I for one have made a lot of moves on lads and haven’t gotten much back so yes, it’d be nice to have one do the same for me at some point. And I’m sorry boys, but from the many many tales I’ve heard from young women, you’re actually a bit hopeless at reading signs…even when those signs have been the lass literally saying ‘I really like you, let’s do something’. At that point, you’ve got nothing to lose man, take a (not so risky) riskkkkk.

It goes without saying that romantic relationships are difficult, and navigating the early stages with someone that you don’t really know that well, trying to work out whether you’ve upset them or stressed them out can induce a lot of daily stress. Also, I know that I’m coming at this from the cis-female heterosexual perspective and hence it won’t be relatable for everyone; for example, I’m sure that men have plenty of frustrations they’d love to voice about dating young women as well. But just because something isn’t relatable to everyone, doesn’t mean that it isn’t relatable to anyone, and I’ve had far too many conversations with my female friends recently where we’ve been laughing/screaming/laughing about the lack of romantic passion in our lives.

So, to conclude, the ladies don’t want to date or have sex for the sake of it right now, they want something exciting; someone to be interested in them enough to make romance and sex fun for everyone involved. We’re just holding out for a bit more flavour.

One operation, two operations, three operations, four…

18th Oct 202218th Oct 2022 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

If you’re an avid reader of my blogs, then it’s likely that you’ve seen me mention that I’ve had six operations because of my disability. But what’s funny, is that a lot of the time when I say these things about my lived experience with Spina Bifida, what I’m actually doing is repeating the speech I’ve always known as how to explain my disability to others – I’m not really thinking about the words I’m saying. For instance, it might surprise you to know that even though I talk about being disabled quite regularly, there are plenty of days when I almost have to remind myself that I have Spina Bifida. This is because the details of my condition and the way they physically ‘affect’ me aren’t constantly on my mind. But the times when this dissociation from my own disability gets the weirdest, is if I sit and properly think about my operations.

I had my first two operations when I was a baby and if I’m honest with you, I’m still not entirely clear on what they were for, what they were called, or how the procedures actually went. My basic understanding is that the goal was to drain some of the fluid in the lump on my back using tubes; I know they didn’t really work, and I know that I’ve still got a small plastic tube in my stomach because the doctors didn’t want to cause me any more trauma by making me have another operation to take it out. So, I’ve got a completely harmless plastic tube inside of me. Which (when I think about it) is weird, right?! But I don’t remember those operations, I just remember always knowing that that tube is inside of me because I can see the scar.

My next operation was on my right foot. My parents have told me that as a baby my feet were actually fine, and it was only when I started to walk (I think), that my right foot started to curve inwards so that I wasn’t placing the pressure where it should go and we started having some issues. Hence I had an operation to correct the positioning called a tendon transfer where they move a small piece of tendon from one side of your foot to the other to basically stretch it in a different way, so the bottom of your foot lies flat on the ground as you walk. (It’s difficult to explain in words…you might just have to google that one to get a visual aid). And again, I don’t remember being involved in the operation, but I know that I was because I can see the scars.

My final three operations were on my left foot – affectionately named by one of my best friends as the ‘attention-seeking foot’ because this little bugger has rarely stopped giving me grief since it decided to copy my right foot and curve inwards. The operations I had on this banter wagon were exactly the same as the one on my right foot, the only difference was that it took three tries (classic) because the first one got infected so you could see the bone from the outside, then the second attempt flopped, and by the third go, I had no more tendon left to transfer so it was less that the operations had ‘worked’, and more that my lovely surgeon had done the best he could. – He did kind of nail it tbf. I was in a wheelchair for 18 months during this part of my childhood.

What’s odd though, is that the time when I had these operations isn’t really something I recognise as my life because it all just sounds so medical. Obviously, I know that it happened because I’ve got scars and medical records to show for it, but I don’t ever remember thinking of myself as this regularly hospitalised child. Although, that isn’t to say that I don’t have memories of being in hospital gowns, and spending months with nurses coming to my house to dress my foot every day before I got in my wheelchair to go to school, or how the fever felt when my foot was so infected that the bone was visible. I remember all of that viscerally. But when I see the home videos of the little girl stumbling around, walking faster than her Spina Bifida feet could carry her, it’s difficult for me to watch because that level of blatantly obvious physical disability isn’t me in my head.

It goes without saying that I have my parents and my big brothers to thank for this, because if they’d ever brought attention to just how pronounced my disability was in my early childhood and restricted me according to that, then I wouldn’t be what I am. But then the funny flipside of being brought up this way, is that seeing images of little me limping around after my big brothers is bizarre and in some ways a little upsetting because oh my god, that’s me. I’ve heard all these stories about it but look! Look how much I couldn’t walk.

Still, in these same photographs, videos, and hazy memories of when my body was showing the purest form of my Spina Bifida, I couldn’t have cared less about it. This was also aided by the fact that no matter how bad my feet are, I never experience any direct pain because I don’t have any feeling in either of my feet. Therefore, infection or not, limp or not, I ran and explored as much as any other four-year-old did and the idea that I was ‘disabled’ was totally irrelevant to my experience of life. But my brain will always be wired this way, so it can get strange sometimes when I realise just how disabled I actually am.

Swipe right if you need help

10th Oct 2022 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Now, this blog is nothing if I don’t use it as a way to transcribe and elaborate on conversations I’ve had with friends, and recently, no matter who I’ve been talking to, all anyone wants to talk (or rant) about is dating apps. So, when in Rome…

Once again, we’ve found ourselves in the time of year when it’s starting to get colder, the days are shortening, and all of a sudden everyone’s hot girl summer is over and we’re all starting to feel self-conscious about our relationship status as we settle back into a work or university routine. Then, when we mix all these seasonal life changes with our reliable friend boredom, we end up sitting on the sofa watching tv one night, downloading a dating app to get some attention from a stranger. It’s a toxic tale as old as time.

Personally, I’m not a fan of dating apps. I don’t like trying to pre-empt which photographs best represent what I look like and how I am as a person, and honestly, every time I make a profile it just ends up making me feel lame because I can nEVER think of something witty to write in a bio. All of a sudden everything interesting about myself completely disappears from my brain, so I go for the less is more approach, but now I look boring. Then as the swiping commences, I get more superficial and judgemental than I would normally be as I over-analyse every photograph and bit of text I come across, looking for someone who’s done everything in their profile I couldn’t manage twenty minutes ago. Next, there’s the texting. Oh my god I hate the texting. I just can’t be bothered!!! Which is so silly because by the time I’ve made it to the texting part, we’ve both already established that we’re somewhat interested in each other, so this part should be simple. But nope, something in my brain switches and tells me that I now don’t fancy them at all because I can’t be bothered to small talk, so I probably keep the app for a couple more days until I eventually delete it again.

Although, I’ve not met a single person who loves having these dating apps, so why is it that it’s started to feel like you have to have them if you want to meet someone?

We say that we don’t want anything intense and we want meeting someone to be natural, but then we spend time on these apps which encourage us to be picky about literally everything. I mean, I aired someone the other day because he’d texted me asking me about three questions in one go and I felt like I didn’t have the time or the energy to answer. But if someone asked me those questions in person, I’d be all over it, so why did I air him just because he’d texted it?! WhERE is the logic? (The questions, by the way, were about my favourite book, where I’m from, and why I’ve moved here – all lovely questions, so I had literally no excuse to not answer them.)

When I sit and have these types of conversations with my friends, it’s funny really, because we can all identify that we’re acting in totally nonsensical ways just because we feel like we should have these apps and we should be talking to someone. But thankfully, I’m not lonely enough right now to be upset about not dating anyone, so the frustrations which come with dating apps aren’t hitting me as hard as they have before. This is partly because I’m constantly busy, but also because honestly, I – like many young people in this country – have accepted that the world of romantic relationships is a big old mess right now, and that you’ve really got to not let that get to you.

So, keep the dating apps if you want to, but make sure that you do like Marie Kondo says, and you throw them away if they’re not sparking joy.

There’s no shame if you download it again three months later though, we’ve all been there.

Quick! Someone get the stress ball!

4th Oct 2022 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

As a member of the most stressed and depressed generation ever studied by science, I thought that I would take this week’s blog as an opportunity to explain how I deal with stress in my everyday life. The short answer: not very well.

Lol

Actually, to be fair, that’s not entirely true…but I don’t want to kick this off by giving you the impression that I’m always on top of my own stress levels, and that I know exactly how to regulate my feelings in order to avoid having breakdowns because I’m not and I don’t. Generally speaking, I’m what some might call a ‘stress-head’, or ‘overthinker’. I don’t deal well when I can’t be in control of situations – be they relating to work or romantic relationships, or anything in between – and I’ve been known to take on too much all at the same time, overloading myself until eventually I get burnt out, have a (minor) meltdown, then wake up the next day to do it all over again.

Knowing this about myself though, I still don’t believe that stress is an entirely negative emotion – as long as you’re self-aware enough to recognise when it’s overwhelming you. For example, ever since moving to London last month, I’ve been so stressed that I’ve lost weight and my period was ten days late. (I realise that these don’t sound like very dramatic consequences of stress, nonetheless, they are clear examples of a tangibly physical reaction to something going on in my head.) But even though pretty much every day since I’ve lived here has been punctuated by to-do lists and an endless amount of unknowns, I actually feel pretty good; I don’t feel stressed in the negative sense of the word.

Don’t get me wrong, the first week or so of living in this city was purely bad stress, but as I mentioned in a blog a few weeks ago, my parents helped me get out of that panic by urging me to take everything one thing at a time. This advice sounds so obvious, but if you’re an overthinker like me, then you’ll know that it’s far easier to think about the million and one things you need to do, or what could go wrong, all at once than it is to focus on just one thing for today. Honestly, I’m still not fully there yet, but this month has definitely been an exercise in recognising when I’m about to wind myself up, taking a breath, and then just not letting myself stress about the thing I was going to stress about.

I’m in a good position, however, given that a lot of my stress at the minute is based on things that I love. For example, finding ways to squeeze in writing blogs or going to radio stations might take a toll on my energy at a given moment, but I love doing it, so I don’t end the day feeling bitter about how tired I am. Still, even if you adore what’s making you stressed, that doesn’t mean that the mental exhaustion won’t eventually catch up with you, so it’s important that even if you feel fine, you do little things to keep an eye on yourself. I’m going to sound like one of those American yoga teachers right now, but think about the little things that you could do which could help you to focus on what you really want to do in the day. For instance, if there’s a time when my stress is going to show itself in me getting angry, then it’s going to be if I see that my room or my kitchen is unclean or untidy. So I keep my room and my kitchen neat; tidy home, tidy mind n that.

It might seem silly to talk about these things, but judging from social media, we’re way better at listing all the problems with ourselves than we are at helping each other to find some solutions. So, I’d like to reiterate that this has not been me saying ‘ooo look at me, I’m so self-aware that I never have a breakdown because of stress’, because I wouldn’t have a blog if I wasn’t an over-thinker and stress-head. But I’m trying my best to be better at not letting my mind just run, and trying is all we can do really innit.

If you are feeling a little strung-out at the minute though, top tips are: deep breath, lots of water, plenty of sleep, read a book before bed, listen to music, keep your room tidy, have a cry if you need to, and speak to someone who makes you laugh.

You’ve gotta stick to your lane

27th Sep 2022 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I’m the type of person who, in the appropriate situation, would like to look, be, or say something sexy. I’ll go on a night out, spot a wall which looks kind of cool and ask a friend to take a photograph of me in front of it, thinking ‘omg yes this’ll be a good shot’. But then the second the camera starts flashing, I can hold my face for a few seconds before I’ve got absolutely no idea what to do with myself and I end up pulling a stupid face. Orrrrrr, I’ll think I’ve nailed it until my friend hands me back the phone and my figure just hasn’t given what I’d envisioned…so all of the shots head straight to the recycling bin. But it’s not that I’m being consciously self-critical in these moments, it’s just that I don’t think that I give off ‘sexy’ vibes…

By this, I think what I mean is that I don’t see myself as demonstrating a very specific version of femininity associated with models and actresses. I’m visualising the lasses who can take the fire pictures, with the perfect bodies, in the expensive underwear, with the sultry eye contact from across the bar, and the bad bitch vibe where the men come running the second they walk into the room. And even though this expression of femininity is gorgeous, often it’s been constructed in order to make women sexually desirable to men. However, connotations of patriarchy and misogyny aside (very difficult to sweep them aside, but stick with me here), I do still want to be sexy and desirable every now and then – probably even if it comes with a hint of objectification – because in that context it’s on my own terms, but no matter my intentions I just don’t think that I give off that sultry kind of energy.

Hence I wonder, is my slight discomfort with the word a disability thing? Possibly. I mean, for centuries the (physically) disabled body has never been portrayed as sexually desirable, in fact, people have often been encouraged to think of the idea of disabled people having sex as repulsive (if it’s ever thought to happen at all). So yes, that’s probably playing a part in my inner monologue. But I don’t think that that’s the main thing going on here; I think what’s happening is that part of me is assuming that you can only really be ‘sexy’ if others describe you in that way.

We (particularly women) seem to like to categorise ourselves and our friends: at some point, we’ve all decided – actively or passively – who is the ‘cute’ one, the ‘pretty’ one, the ‘funny’ one, the ‘clever’ one, the ‘sexy’ one, and so on and so forth, as if there’s a correct way to be each one of those characteristics. These categories then cement to each of us what we are (and what we’re not), so when we’re described as a word that’s outside of our lane, we assume that a mistake’s been made i.e., I’ve never been the ‘sexy’ one in any friendship group, so that’s probably why I don’t see myself in that light.

So even though I’ve never ended a blog with a homework task, get ready! Because this week I’d like to ask that you consider whether there’s a word (or words) you’ve told yourself you could never be. Then, if you’ve thought of one, the next time you go to the place or do the thing that allows you the time to be with yourself and have a good old think, I’d like you to consider why you can’t be that thing. Finally, once you’ve (hopefully) come to the conclusion that you’re being silly and should stop putting yourself in a box, stop thinking and go do something fun; that’s enough of the internal monologue for one day. Wouldn’t want to overthink it, now would we? Or did I do that already?…

Employability first, disability later

13th Sep 2022 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Since moving to London last month, I’ve applied for part-time jobs which will allow me to have enough money to live, whilst also leaving room for me to pursue a career in radio and broadcasting. And during these job applications and subsequent interviews, I’ve been repeatedly faced with society’s favourite question about disability: how does your condition affect you on a day-to-day basis?

Everyone loves this question; it offers neat and comfortable parameters within which a disability can be defined and the methods for ‘dealing with it’ clearly laid out. Yet, every single time a person asks me this question all I ever feel like doing is laughing, because even though their intentions are probably good, the question makes literally zero sense.

On the surface, what’s being asked is how my Spina Bifida will impact my ability to work – or, if the government is the one asking, then it’s more about how it will impact general life. But the problem is that this seemingly simple question doesn’t have a simple answer, because it assumes that disability is this one fixed condition, which has these fixed symptoms, which impact everyone who has this specific disability in these fixed ways. Such an organised experience of disability would be nice – trust me – but it’s about as likely as pigs flying tomorrow morning.

Each time I apply for a job, I’ve carefully considered whether I think the role is something I can physically manage, so I don’t feel it necessary to tell the employer I’m physically disabled at that point because I’d prefer to be judged in the same ways as all the other applicants. Plus, at this stage, I don’t think that my medical history is anyone else’s business. However, when I get to an interview and the employer asks if I have any questions, that’s when I’m explicit about my needs – basically, I just need to be able to sit down regularly to relieve the pressure off of my feet for a bit. But by then, I’m 90% sure it’s wouldn’t disrupt my ability to do the job and it’s something the employer could sort out pretty easily. If the employer agrees (which, more often than not, they do) then we start filling out all the HR forms so I can be put on rotas.

This is where it can get a bit sticky because I always have to send over my medical information to prove my disability so the company can do a risk assessment, but that mountain of paperwork paints my condition as a ticking time bomb because all that’s mentioned are my operations, blisters and infections. But, as I explained to the lovely lady who recently gave me one of my jobs, the government (a.k.a. who the paperwork is written for) only cares about when the Spina Bifida has been at its worst; there’s no room in the notes for the million and one ways I take precautions every day to ensure that I’m fine.

So why is it a bit silly to ask me how my disability affects me on a day-to-day basis? Well, because I don’t know which days you mean. I could tell you the days when my foot is in a good condition, but how far are you asking me to walk? Are my shoes new? Is it hot outside? Am I walking uphill, downhill, or on a straight road? Can I drive part of the distance? Am I tired?.. Is there a correct answer to this question?

Obviously, I know that in the context of employment, companies have to cover their own backs and make sure that they’ve got the correct provisions in place to look after me. But the point I’m trying to make is that even though life with a disability can’t be explained as neatly as we might all wish it could, I still want and need to work, and ‘catering’ to the needs of disabled people in the workplace actually isn’t that hard when you listen to the person with the condition. I’ve worked all around the world in shops, and schools, as a summer camp counsellor, in radio stations and in car dealerships, and if I ever had a problem with my feet whilst employed, I communicated with my boss and I dealt with it just like everyone deals with random problems in life.

So, I don’t have an issue with employers asking a person how a disability affects their daily life, I just hope that they’re not surprised when they don’t get a simple answer. Also, I hope that there’s an acknowledgement that the person with the condition has probably put a lot of time and mental energy into deciding whether they can do the job before they even applied, and thus if they’re qualified in every other way for the role, then it’s no one else’s right to tell them what they can and can’t do.

Well that was a bit silly of me

5th Sep 2022 by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Okay but, why is it that whenever I get bored, lonely, or horny (or heaven forbid a combination of all three), I think it wise to make some stupid decisions? Something happens in my head where I think that for some reason, a lad who I’m definitely not that interested in not only requires my attention, but he also deserves my stress and occasionally even my tears. I swear to you, if I had a pound for every time I’ve gotten irritated over some romantic situation, where, if I actually took a step back and thought about it, I’d decide I was really not that invested anyway, then I would be a very rich woman right now.

And I know that everyone says this but I promise you, pinky swear and lock it in, I don’t enjoy the unsaid games which happen before you’re in a relationship with someone. I can’t be bothered to wait for ages to text someone back, I don’t care about how long they take to text me back – unless it becomes clear that they’re playing the game, then that does irritate me – but more than anything, I hate how being involved in the game makes me overthink EVERYTHING. And yet, I still do it! Often with people I don’t even like that much! I’m also incredibly picky and very very rarely say yes to going on a date with someone. So am I part of my own problem? Possibly.

I think that part of it is that if you actually sit and think about the efforts a person would have to take to not think, speak about, or see romantic relationships in everyday life then you come to realise that it’s kind of impossible. Every time you turn the television on, it doesn’t matter if it’s reality tv or a drama, odds are there’s a hefty section devoted to finding a relationship, being in one, or leaving one. Then you walk down the street and someone’s being cute with their partner, or there are advertisements suggesting what you should do with your partner, or what you should buy them. Plus, you’re judged if you go out and do things on your own, let alone the lame fact that it’s kind of unsafe for a woman to fly solo in towns and cities once the sun has gone down, so even if you wanted to go for a drink on your own, there’s that little voice in your head wondering whether it’s worth the potential hassle.

Therefore, we’re encouraged to be lonely, we get bored, and if those two weren’t enough, the sex drive comes along to make us momentarily ignore that part of our brains which tells us that something is probably not a great idea. Because maybe it is a good idea for the near future. And it’s not that deep anyway! And they’re interested in me! Or they seem to be… And it’ll make for a fun story to tell everyone tomorrow morning.

I try not to waste time regretting my actions, since I know that if I were put in the situation again, I’d probs do the same thing anyway, but sometimes the embarrassment does find its way into my internal monologues and when it does, you’ve got to flush that shit away like a spider in the bath.

But second-hand embarrassment aside, at least I try to treat people the way I’d like to be treated so it’s not as if I’m out here being a massive cow when I’m making questionable decisions. However, this isn’t the part where I promise never to text someone who I know is only going to play some game and then irritate me by doing that, because ladies and gentlemen, I am silly at times. Buuuutttt, I will congratulate myself for finally being decent at knowing when enough is enough and just deleting the conversation thread. That’s some solid character progression right there. Go me.

An Indelible Friend

Tag: society