People, not disabilities

Just because somebody’s in a wheelchair and can’t speak is no reason to patronise her, but people do:

I’m not a child. I don’t pinky swear. I don’t do patronizing sing-song voices. I don’t like to be touched by strangers and I don’t like strangers trying to force me to look at their faces, touch them, or promise them anything. And I don’t like being called a shithead for not responding to these things or looking terrified by these things. That goes double if you said shithead in the same light-hearted, patronizing way you would to a cat who just put their teeth on you for petting them too long. So don’t think that “I was just joking” would change my mind.

That this woman might mean well is of course no defense of her actions or her inability to understand that you can’t treat grown ass people like troublesome pets, but I can see how easily genuine concern could slide into patronising or worse. It’s the sort of thing I struggled with during Sandra’s illness, to keep treating her like the adult she was, to not let her illness get in the way of her.