It’s so easy to slip into a cycle of hating your body when it’s not working properly. It’s easy to feel bitter, alone, resentful and just all-around negative and depressed when your body is unhealthy in ways beyond your control, and all of those feelings are completely valid. I’ve chosen to stay positive and live my life in spite of my diseases, which is totally more easily said than done. Here’s how I do it…
When I became physically disabled due to a rare, incurable bone disease, I found that my favorite, go-to sex position was no longer achievable. Having a physical disability made a lot of things about sex awkward or uncomfortable…
So, how does a disabled person take charge of their sexuality and enjoy themselves? What are some ways that disabled people can physically be comfortable during sex? I have some helpful tips!
On my rheumatologist’s recommendation, I don’t do yoga, because if I stretch too far I’ll damage my joints. However, I would really like to find something else that combines meditativeness with motion. Is there a “yoga for people who can’t do yoga”?
As a mom of a child with Down syndrome, I’m always looking for something new and good that relates to our family on TV. As a deaf mom who has long been a disability rights activist, I’ve found that to be pretty damn hard to find.
“Speechless” is a new TV show that seems to fit the bill. It’s amazing to see the first TV show in which the central character has a disability, and all of the story lines flow around him!
I became a disabled housewife, without any warning, so quickly after we married that I’d felt as if I’d tricked him, or pulled the ol’ bait-and-switch. And while my husband has a great job, that can easily, comfortably support both of us and our rescue dogs, but I still deal with feelings of guilt for not being able to financially contribute to our partnership.
I’ve fallen ill, I guess that’s the word — ill. I’ve fallen worthless is what it feels like. Not that I’m not fabulous on the inside still, I’m awesome, but my body has taken to no longer working, so the fab’s pretty hard to show. Health-wise, a good day is where I’m able to cook a meal and do some dishes, or draw or write, for an hour or two. Many days all I can do is just lie here. This has been such a bizarre experience, but I’ve learned some things along this journey…
So much information about autism and the Autism Awareness Movement is geared toward young children. News flash: adults have autism, too. I’m one of them. “But you seem so ‘normal,’ and you’re married! You can’t have autism!” Exclamations like these always follow whenever I tell people that I’m autistic. It’s true: I probably don’t fit into your idea of what it means to be autistic — I’m married, I had a career before I was diagnosed with a bone disease that ended it — but it’s something that affects me every moment of every day.
Lots of things get “reclaimed” — body shapes, offensive words, etc. Today I’m doing something bizarre: I am reclaiming disease. I’m going to present you with a narrative that is NOT popular with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome: I am proud of and happy with me having PCOS. Because what it gave me is a beautiful, soft, warm, luxurious face and body full of curly, beautiful fur. I am not beautiful despite it. It is part of my beauty.