Dating with Disability

“Stoma bags are disgusting”
“We never do anything as a couple anymore”
“Why are you in bed all day?”
“You just need a good routine”

These are all things disabled people are accustomed to hearing when in relationships. It’s wrong and unfortunate, but ableism runs through every aspect of our society. With plenty of partners available through hook-up culture, disabled singles are often overlooked- many of us simply can’t arrange a “Netflix and Chill” sort of night. Logistics get in the way, and if you have a disability aid, that too.

Relationships with disability are hard. They’re a luxury experience. The wedding vows are 'in sickness and in health', but when you’re 21 and sick all the time, it’s hard to find someone else who can stick that out.

There's pity; "wow you're so strong!", but you don't know me, you're a face on a dating app. Or there's "what happened? :o" which I'll have no problem answering, but it's not a great pick up line. 

To flip the coin, there’s also stories of people fetishising disability. “I love the fact my girlfriend is in a wheelchair.” No thanks. Get your creepy one sided power dynamic out of my space. A person is a lot more than their disability, and reducing them to their disability to satisfy yourself is wrong on so many levels.

Insecurity comes along with disability, especially when your last long term relationship ended a week before you spent the best part of two months in the hospital. Other causes were cited, but when you know you were getting sicker by the day, it’s hard to think that illness didn’t contribute slightly. The position of ‘carer’ sucks, especially when you’re young.

So what are the options when hook-up culture isn’t going to work and relationships are a struggle?

I don’t know the answer, I haven’t had a happy ending, or a Prince Charming. I'm not looking for one, truthfully. I’ve spent the past few months working on my sadness and myself. I’ve signed up on the apps, but find myself scrolling through bored. It just doesn’t appeal, and I think somewhere I’m scared of that rejection. Would I date someone who had a feeding tube if I’ve never been exposed to chronic illness before?

My disability has become more prominent. If the tube sticking out of my face wasn’t enough evidence, a look through my social media might make that crystal clear. It is a huge part of my personality and special interests- I was elected disability representative on my SRC at uni because I am passionate about awareness and accessibility. And while this may be a bit on the nose, maybe that will be the key to finding love in the future. I often see people asking when they should mention their invisible disability when dating. Third date? First date? When you’re official? For me, it is front and centre. Here’s my feeding tube. Wanna swipe right?

And I’ll be honest, I’m not matching with the hundreds I was matching with when my disability was invisible. I really don’t care about being in a relationship right now. If someone good comes along, cool. But I’m pretty okay with my own company, and awful at replying to messages. This self-acceptance and self-love is something that I think everyone should hold. Be content as a single person! Be content as a disabled single person! Co-dependency sucks.

I will say that mentioning a disability early on will gauge what your potential partner would be like. I look to ‘JerryRigEverything’ and his wife Cambry who is paralysed from the waist down. They met on an app, her wheelchair was obvious, and they still had a happy ending. He built her a lift in their house. Iconic. [please, check him out! he destroys phones for a living] On the other hand, if a potential partner is scared away, no big loss. The ideal? Someone who treats you like you're normal. Don't fetishise, don't pity. Someone who will read about your condition, or ask you questions about it, or genuinely just care and be there. A disability isn’t no big deal, and if you begin to struggle, your partner will likely have to take on some responsibilities that they wouldn’t have to take on with an ablebodied or neurotypical partner.

I’m gonna level with you: a lot of people can’t handle disability. When we struggle ourselves, partners will often feel trapped against that. When I was diagnosed with Crohn’s I tried to explain that it was a remitting-relapsing condition and I wouldn’t be flaring forever, but my partner had to watch me struggle for eleven months. That’s a long time to have trips cut short for bathroom breaks, to sit with an exhausted version of me, to watch as medication changed my body shape. Not to mention sitting by a hospital bed for weeks on end. It’s draining. I can’t blame anybody for wanting to avoid such a situation. My illness has sucked, and any partner would have to experience that suckiness by my side.

Many disabled people struggle in relationships. I met a mother who was given an emergency stoma after an unexpected surgery. The father of her children packed up and left during her hospital stay. There was a guardian article entitled “the men who leave their spouses when they have a life threatening illness” About the phenomenon [though this isn't limited to men, one study found that the majority who leave are in fact male]. It’s not a new thing, and all the nurses and patients I would tell about my breakup would assure me that if someone can’t handle my illness? They don’t deserve me for me.

Here’s my hinge profile, which is an app I really haven’t used properly, but I appreciate the features more than a swipe-y style app. You can message people based on their photos/statements. As you can see, it’s a mix of everything, but my feeding tube is obvious in some photos. This has probably scared away numerous potential matches, but I can't care about that. My disability is just one part of me, a part that I hate as much as any partner would, but it has also allowed me to grow. To help others and become empathetic, to make me ‘me’. I’ve known I was disabled since I was seven years old. I’ve struggled for years to get to where I am, physio, hydrotherapy, countless hospital stays. That’s reflected in me. A couple of years ago I’d have hated someone mentioning my disability, the idea of someone caring for me, seeing me bedridden. And it’s still not a nice thought, nobody wants to watch someone suffer. But by accepting this as my life, that it’s not going to go away, maybe I’ll attract a partner who can see me as the whole picture I am.

At this rate though, I can see myself being happily single and marrying a friend for the tax benefits. Once you do LW22019 Scots Family Law, you never go back to viewing relationships the same way.

In case anyone is looking for a girlfriend, here’s a wee bio
My interests: true crime, loving the NHS, filmmaking, cooking (which is funny because my stomach decided it didn’t want to work)
I’m currently watching: The Mandalorian, NCIS, B99, How to Get Away with Murder
Please don’t: brag about how much land you own, I can’t do that again