Growing up, my understanding of “disability” was limited to signs for “handicapped parking” with a white stick figure in a wheelchair and “special needs” children, who were always looked at from afar, and who would be described in low, quiet tones just in case they heard themselves being described.
I was not diagnosed until I was thirteen.
The word disability was not a word I associated with myself for years after receiving my diagnosis. It’s not a word with a very positive history or even a well-known one. (more…)