On disability, ambition, and becoming the person you were meant to be
There is an assumption, and a created narrative I’ve encountered again and again throughout my life.
The assumption is simple:
«Becoming disabled means losing your future».
This type of narrative is not meant litteraly so, but in a practical sense, through time; it’s as if piece by piece,the life you envisioned dissapears.
It might be the career you imagined, or the independence you wished for,
the relationships you dreamt about, or even the person you imagined yourself becoming.
And from my own personal experience;
if you spend enough time around illness, hospitals, and within a variety of social systems – you begin to hear this assumption everywhere.
Sometimes is stands out in the open hallway amongst patients or medical-workers. At other times it’s wispered quietly, disguised as concern between your family, or your friends.
And sometimes; narrated as a helpless fact and a breath of realism, it might come from your own internal voice.
But it is a narrative I no longer believe in.
Instead, lately – I’ve been rendering on a different kind of question.
Because, what if the life I want still exist, If only I’d let it?
Not untouched by illness. Nor free from reality. But still there – and still possible.
And on that note – if my dream life still exist, how would I make it?
My limitations are real. But they do not get to decide who I become.»
– Silje Elsrud Yttervik
Today, I think one of the greatest tradegies many disabled people experience is not illness itself.
Rather, it is the gradual loss of imagination, as we stop allowing ourselves (intentionally or unintentionally)
to dream.
And this is not because we no longer want things in our lives. But because we begin to asssume that we’ll never get them.
Thus, the pain becomes too big – and the consistent dissapointment too substantial.
So we just… lose all hope.
Because hope feels too dangerous.
So we lower our expectations in life…
Then lower them again…
And lower them once more…
Untill we eventually stop asking for what we want altogether.
Instead, we start asking for what seems realistic.
And while realism certainly has its place, I am not convinced it should be allowed to run our entire lives.
Because, truth be told, everyone has limits!
Some are financial, others are social. Some limits are physical – some are psychological.
The difference is that disabled people often see our limits more clearly than everyone else.
Because they are (often) highly visible.
Often heavily documented and measured.
Sometimes even diagnosed
And because our limits are easier to identify, society often mistakes them for the entirety of who we are.
But remember, a limitation is not an identity!
It is simply a condition that must be worked around.
For a very long time, I believed that becoming the woman that I wanted to become, I had to wait for society to give me some sort of permission to do so;
– permission through employment
– permission through approval
– permission through systems that recognize my value through the variety of life experiences I have, that are both rare and unusual.
But the older I get, the less interested I become in waiting.
Because, while these systems play a part – they do not own my imagination.
Nor do they get a say in ME reaching MY goals.
And they certanly do not own my future!
And perhaps the most important part is that, this does not mean ignoring reality.
I am not in any way, shape or form interested in pretending that illness does not exist.
My epilepsy exists. My limitations exists. And my health matters to me, deeply.
But there is a difference between building a life regardless of your limitations, and building a life with limitations in mind.
The first denies reality. The second respects it. And for me, this is where my own freedom of imagination lives.
Not in pretending we have no limitations, but in refusing to let those limitations become the only thing that define us.
So,
my plan moving forward is surprisingly simple.
I am going to continue becoming the woman I want to become.
Not despite my disability, nor regardless of it – but rather alongside it.
I will take my limitations intoo account. Adapt when necessary.
Rest when rest is needed, and ask for help when I have to.
And just… continue.
Because, I am no longer interested in spending my life proving that I too am worthy of big dreams and ambitions.
I am interested in pursuing them…
As such, maybe that is the real lesson disability teaches us.
Not that our lives are over when illness festers,
but rather that everything we do in life becomes highly intentional.
Every choice we make matters more,
every goal we reach matters more – and every relationship; (romantic or platonic) that we invest time and energy intoo, matters more.
Because, when limitations are real and highly visible, we stop taking possibilities for granted!
_________________
A small task for you, reader…
Ask yourself;
«If I stopped asking for permission, what kind of life would I want to live?»
Consider your own limitations, big and small – and consider potential steps you could take around them.
Shut down the assumptions, reframe the narrative.
Be creative!
Then, decide on one small step towards your dreams – and commit to doing it within a week!
And just… continue.
– Silje