portraits in ableism

My parents couldn't get my childhood doctor to acknowledge that I was deaf. According to him, I was just mother-deaf. After proving my hearing loss to themselves via the "attempt to startle her by banging pots right behind her head" test, they went around him and had my hearing loss charted by an audiologist. He was apologetic.

My parents decided to mainstream me. I never learned sign language, and did ten years of speech therapy to sound normal.

A regular question I received from other kids was "What's that thing in your ear?" Also, "What's that weird necklace?"

In fourth grade, I had another deaf student in my class. He had a different tech setup, so my teacher had to wear two microphones and radios. Whenever a guest speaker came, it was a production to disentangle the wires from her and get the guest instructor hooked up. She would do a little dance and sing "I'm free, I'm free, I'm free."

Hearing aids aren't typically covered by insurance. My father complained about how expensive they were.

I finally started learning to sign in high school. Just in time for my vision to start going, so I wouldn't be able to use it.

I started using a cane after college. My girlfriend at the time always mentioned that it scared her when I used it. She also didn't like that I ruined my outfits on dressy dates by bringing a backpack to hold my cane and hearing aid batteries.

She didn't have a reason for breaking up with me.

In my first forays into online dating, I hid things.

I went on a few dates with a woman. I ended things because I had a feeling she was the type to use my disabilities against me in a fight. When I broke it off, she informed me that "it wouldn't have worked out anyways, y'know, 'cause you're blind."

I stopped hiding my disabilities in my dating profiles. I also stopped getting matches.

My brothers planned a trip without me, to do something they didn't think I could do. I could've.

I decided not to have children. When I went in to discuss it, there was no need to ask if I was sure; I had a genetic disability.

I was using a cane on public transport. A man said to me "You're not blind." Me: "Not completely, no." "Well, then don't act like it."

I have to make a choice between feeling like a fraud with the cane, or feeling mortified when I run into things or people without it.

I read Kurt Vonnegut's Galapagos.

A friend who had been flirting a bit stopped after I brought my cane on a date. She's often too busy to hang out now.