Cups

I’m aware that every self-help book indicates that I have to be happy with myself before proceeding with any type of relationship, but here is what you don’t understand, I am very happy with myself. I wouldn’t be writing this if I wasn’t comfortable with who I am. I’m just not happy with who people think I am because of my disability (In other words that I am not enough).

Women with physical disabilities tend to feel like the broken toy in the bottom of the lost-and-found bin, almost like a disposable solo cup. Actually, sometimes if you're not a Paralympic athlete or Stephen Hawking you feel more like a paper cup. The type of cup that has little decorative designs. The ones you chuck when you finish reading the inspirational quote on the side. If you’re an able-bodied woman aka, a glass cup, and you’re thinking to yourself “well I feel this way too” I am well aware of that. If able-bodied Ally from accounting doesn't feel that she is enough what are the chances that I will ever be? Your empathy isn't something that we can use to console our insecurities as disabled women. If anything we use this to justify our fear that we will never be enough for our spouse. I’m not saying this for pity or for you to feel embarrassed for me. I’m saying this because I have been convincing myself that vulnerability is power. That by talking about it I’m not only going to see how fucking ridiculous is to feel this way, but that I will also help Molly (the 16-year-old version of me, and the sole purpose of this blog) out in the future because she is bound to feel this way.

Clearly, I have had my heart broken....again, and I’m sure it will happen a couple more times but I have come to realize that my pain has nothing to do with the sad SOB who hurt me. I know that I am so much more than the way that men treat me. I know that I am an amazing, beautiful, and talented woman, but no matter how much I remind my self of these things insecurity still finds it's way into my brain, and every bone in my body cowers with the fear that my friends are wrong, and I’m probably going to end up alone. What really hurts me is the fact that no one has come around to prove my insecurities wrong. Which for an able body person is not that bad. You buy a cat and live a happy life, but for a disabled person knowing that at some point you’re going to be alone fending for yourself is a little traumatizing.

Potential partners make decisions not through what they know about me, but what they think they know about me. In truth, all of their choices are based on the information that society gives them about disabled women, and guess what, it is not enough. I am a little skeptical about relationships sometimes. Because let me put it this way, you can only hit a dog so many times before it starts to flinch. So, excuse me if I freak out if you don’t reply to my text. Sorry if I don't believe that you are not talking to me out of pity or because you feel that you are obligated to. Women with physical disabilities that have been active in the dating world should be treated like a dog that you rescued from the pound. Fellas, you should know that when you reach out to pet this dog you run into the risk of two things. One, the dog might lick your hand and actually let you pet them, or they could bite your hand off out of a pure instinct for self-defense. I know it’s a little-twisted Molly, but your ideal guy should be able to understand your situation, bandage his wounds and try again. Your ideal guy should know that you are not a paper cup you are not a cup at all you are a thermos and not that scratched, vintage thermos that Ally from accounting uses. If anything you’re a high tech thermos. The type of thermos you would see in Black Mirror, where as soon as it’s half empty you manage to refill yourself and no one understands how. Because you’re just that damn powerful.