My trans friends rarely come home, and when they do, it is for brief bursts of time. They question why I’ve chosen to keep living here.
How can I say that I fear I’ll never date again without feeding the monster? No one owes me their touch; I am starving for it just the same.
It is very rare, as a disabled person, that I have an intense sense of belonging, of being not just tolerated or included in a space, but actively owning it.
“Accommodations are things that we need, and deserve, in order to lead our lives. But they’re treated—we are treated—like we’re trying to pull one over on the rest of society.”
I want to surround myself with people who argue with me, for I learn so much more from these conversations.
“When is disability humor appropriate and when isn’t it?”