Love me with my Disability, not in spite of it

Alice Abraham

“Do you think it was your disability?”, replied a friend when I texted them with teary eyes about my break up with my able-bodied partner . Love and relationships can be complex for disabled people because of so many assumptions by the ableist culture. An interabled relationship is always assumed as a compromise. The common assumption is that a non-disabled partner loved the disabled one “in spite of the disability”. This idea makes it seem that love and disability cannot exist together.

Often dating and relationships become a challenging task for disabled folks in this world which puts so much importance on physical appearances and the idea of a “normal” body. Even when you start dating there are many obstacles and misconceptions that you have to deal with. One of the main obstacles is that both the physical world as well as online spaces are inaccessible to most disabled people. Many a times, disabled adults are treated like children and non-sexual beings. We are patronized and often told by ableist society that our bodies are not desirable or worthy of romantic love. Then there are those who love us for our “determination” and for our “inspiring life”. These are the ones who feel only pity and sympathy.

My experiences of love and dating as a disabled and chronically ill woman were shaped by my disability and chronic illness. It took a lot of time for me to learn to express my feelings. In Indian households, where conversations of sexuality are mostly absent, I struggled to recognize myself as a sexual being. From my adolescent years, I grew up hearing from my own family and others that as a disabled person I will never “find a husband ‘’. I believed that nobody would love me if they knew I have an illness and I despised my body.

When I started dating, I often tried to hide my chronic illness and disability so that my partner would treat me as a “normal” person and accept me. Sometimes I became an extreme people pleaser so that a partner would stay in a relationship. I would suppress my symptoms or skip my medication when I am with them to make them “comfortable”. I wanted to keep my health separate from my love life. This often led to me living two separate lives one where I was disabled and ill and one where I pretended to be “normal” in the able-bodied world. I never was my true self and hesitated from expressing so many things. I was unable to find an emotional intimacy with my partners even when I found in them complete sense of closeness and security.

I often felt scared to confide in a friend or partner what I was going through when I was having a flare up. In a relationship, we expect to share the most vulnerable self to our partner. But as a disabled woman I couldn’t share my vulnerable self. I was told by someone I met online, “don’t call yourself disabled, you are just differently abled”. Whenever I opened up about my condition where I was losing my eyesight, I was told to be “more positive” because there are others who have it worse. If you can’t accept my disabled identity, how can you accept me? My disability is my truth and identity, being in an intimate relationship with me means accepting that truth.

Once when I told one of my exes about my illness, I had to face a lot of emotional abuse in the form of mocking my body and manipulating my medical decisions. My partner said he cannot continue the relationship in the long term because I wasn’t “easy to handle” and “nobody marries a disabled woman”.

It was after my encounter with such toxic partners I started questioning my internalized ableism. I had to make myself believe that because I am disabled, I am not an unequal partner, and I am not unworthy of respect in a relationship. I needed to accept my body and be intimate with it before I can be with someone else. I learned that need for romantic love is as important as that of a non-disabled person. I don’t have to overcompensate for my disabled and chronically ill body by agreeing to do things I am uncomfortable with.

Every relationship requires care in different forms. The emotional labor I give in a relationship for my able-bodied partner is as significant as the care I might require. I can set my boundaries and don’t have to breach it to make a partner feel good about themselves.

This journey towards self-awareness helped me love myself and be more open about my disability with my partners. I found that I didn’t have to hide my disabled self or have two different sides. I was able to even have a long-term relationship with an able-bodied person with whom I found a new sense of companionship. Though the relationship had its ups and downs, I found out that I could be emotionally intimate with someone and can find love and trust without hiding my disabled identity.

However, when we had to break up due to other reasons, I was asked once again if it was because of my disability and I had to say that I was and will be loved with my disability and not in spite of it.

Alice Abraham is an independent researcher, writer, feminist and disability rights advocate. She lives with Rheumatoid Arthritis, Uveitis and Glaucoma. She completed her MPhil in Comparative Literature from the University of Hyderabad. She is currently a Javed Abidi fellow at NCPEDP.