#badassb

Written and posted on Thursday, March 24th, 2022

Content warning : this post contains descriptions of an environment that was very loud, descriptions of feeling overwhelmed and anxious, and also mentions people drinking alcohol. Don’t worry, nothing dangerous or unsafe. Just too much for me :)

Also, this post got kind of long, oops. I tried to keep it short but it’s still long. 

But first, some backstory. 

Before the pandemic, I told my mentor that I wanted to work more on going out to meet people. I also told her that I wanted to try to get into dating. I have never actually been on a date. I was in one relationship for about 5 months when I was a teenager (14) with my best friend (13) at the time. But unfortunately, we had to keep everything hidden from her mom. And when her mom did find out, she told us we couldn’t see each other any more. So I didn’t get to “go on dates” or express my love for this person in public. I didn’t get to call her my girlfriend or have any type of relationship conversations. We did have lots of wonderful, cute (and yes, consensual) naked kissy time together and for that I am extremely grateful :)

I’m pretty sure one of the main reasons her mom separated us is because I am physically disabled and my friend had learning disabilities. So basically a huge pile of ableism. Anyway, long story short, that experience was devastating for me and I let it bother me for a a long time. It was extremely hard for me to move forward emotionally and I held onto my sadness for the past until I was about 19 or 20. To be honest it still makes me sad sometimes, that the first and last time I was kissed and touched that way was half my life ago (I’m 31 now). 

Then, around that time, in my first few years of college, I began to open myself up just a little. I started to actually admit to myself when I saw people who I thought were attractive. My first term in college, at 19, I wrote a paper about sexuality and disability. It’s funny thinking about how I wrote that paper and then a couple of years later (in a Gender and Sexuality Studies class), I had this epiphany. We were reading about queer disabled people’s experiences and I kind of freaked out. I was like, “That is me. I am not straight and I am disabled.” I’ll write a post about coming out as queer and disabled because they were different for me. 

So yeah, then I went to college forever, and I got older. I became comfortable with using the word queer around the age of 25 and started exploring the connections between my disability and sexuality. And although I have become more confident in talking about the fact that I like girls, I still have never dated. I haven’t kissed someone since I was 14. I know you can hook up with people and have kissing and sexual experiences without being in a relationship, but I just don’t think that’s for me. I’m pretty sure I’d get too attached to people haha :P I’ve dipped my toe in online dating but it’s hard when you don’t match with people and can’t start a conversation. I also don’t like it because it feels like you judge people quickly with very little info. 

So back to the beginning of 2020. In January of that year, I was going to go to a queer speed dating event but it got cancelled the night of. So me and my mentor just went to a quiet bar and hung out for a bit. Then the pandemic happened and I just sort of gave up. I guess I felt like, “I’ve waited this long, I can wait longer.” Well here we are two years into this and I’m like, okay I need to start trying to “get out there.” 

So last week, I happened to randomly find a queer dance party on a Meetup group in my city. I told my new mentor about it and he said he would take me. I was nervous and excited. I got my hair cut before and had my outfit picked out a few days in advance. Even though I knew the event was going to be at a bar, I guess I pictured the dance party being like my high school proms or something. We showed up to the place, and within 30 seconds of being inside, I was doubting myself. It was so loud, I couldn’t hear myself think. It was also a small space and incredibly crowded. My mentor and I made it through a sea of people, some of them probably drunk, who did not know how to go around a walker. I’m actually glad I had my walker though, it helped protect me and serve as a barrier. If I would have used my canes, I could have easily fallen. 

They did not have any earplugs at the bar (I had forgotten mine) and they suggested we go to the gas station a block away. They were out of earplugs too. I cried because I thought I was going to have to “give up” and go somewhere else. It reminded me of the cancelled speed dating situation and I felt sad. Sad because I never “go out” and the one time I decide to, it’s too much. Sad because I didn’t really think about the reality of the event. Of course it’s going to be loud, it’s in a bar with a loud dance floor. 

My mentor suggested that maybe if I went out to the back patio, I could at least try to talk to some people. We made our way back through the drunk-people sea again to an outdoor patio. It was way less loud out there. They had a fire going. At first my mentor and I chatted a bit, and I ordered a non-alcoholic drink (I don’t drink, never have, high chance I never will). Then he said he was worried that people wouldn’t come talk to me if I was talking to him. So I moved over by the fire and he sat in the back and kept an eye on things. I told him earlier that it made me nervous to think that I’ll eventually have to do things like this by myself but then he pointed out that I could come with my friends. I definitely would not want to do things like this by myself.

I’m so glad he suggested going out to the patio. I did actually talk to some really nice people. And once I started talking to them, I felt less nervous. The truth is, I love talking to people (maybe too much haha) but I don’t usually go to events like this. I feel like I’m only used to talking to people in a college, teaching or friend context. Not an event with strangers. It is kind of interesting that two of the people I ended up talking to were disabled. One of them was a dancer at the bar, and he told me that he had cancer when he was 13 and they replaced the bones in his leg with titanium. He said he was glad the bar was accepting of him and still wanted to hire him. Then, a woman I talked to mentioned that she was disabled, when I was telling her I want to write an accessibility guide for travelling to France. She mentioned that she had an invisible disability and that people often told her that she didn’t “seem like” she had this disability. She later mentioned that she liked to watch autism videos on Tik Tok so I assume she was on the spectrum. She said this was her first time going out in about 5 years so then I felt less alone in that.

I wasn’t sure about how this was going to go at first. I have always been more sensitive to loud sounds because of CP and underdeveloped nervous system. I know I don’t like small crowded spaces because they are hard to navigate. But I am glad I went, if even to remind myself that next time I want to go to something mellower :) I am glad I got to talk to some people, talk a bit about disability, talk a tiny bit about the pressure to date and find a girlfriend. I am glad I got the chance to sit and just watch people too, including a few “hot babes” haha ;) I complimented people on their outfits. The nice guy I talked to said my outfit was fire. Someone said they liked my bag. And another person said my hair was cute. At the end of the night, my mentor said he was really proud of me. He said he “almost shed a tear” after watching me start talking to people and become more comfortable. 

To all you other queer crips out there : I am sending you love and strength. Do what makes you happy. Do things because you want to try them. Don’t go to an event just because you think you have to. I sort of felt that way. Like, this is how people meet right? They go out and go to bars. That’s what some people do. But it’s not really for me and that’s okay. Be yourself. Wear what makes you feel comfortable and good. If you go somewhere and it’s not your thing, that does not mean you “failed.” It means you know yourself, which is awesome. All night I was calling myself a “badass -B” because I was trying to feel courageous and proud of myself at the same time. And you know what? Those conversations and compliments I exchanged, and the fact that I gave the event a second try were all steps out of my comfort zone in some way, small or larger. Small steps are still steps.

See you in the next post!