Hello, virtual world!
I’m back because I’ve missed you.
I’m back because…well, let’s face it, I always knew I’d be back, deep down. Even though being back terrifies me. Even though I’m both scared out of my mind and deeply humbled to share my little crippled heart with you again. Humbled that you want me to share my little crippled heart with you.
The last two years had been…interesting. To say the least. I turned thirty. I’m still single. I have another niece. Everyone in my life right now seems to be either getting married or is pregnant. The typical thirty-something story.
The biggest news, though, is that I completed all my courses for my disability studies Masters a wee few months ago. I’m now working on The Big Scary Thesis. I’ll write my proposal this summer. Or that’s the plan, anyway.
Which is where you come in. I’ll be writing an autoethnography for my thesis and, for lack of a better word, I’m scared shitless. (This is what it is to be in your thirties, I think: you’re pretty much scared shitless all the time. But you’re a grownup now, so you have to hide it.) I know I need another outlet, though, other than pouring myself completely into that project. Otherwise, I’ll shrivel up and never leave my apartment again.
The last six months, I’ve become obsessed with podcasts. (Basically anything Radiotopia puts out is pure gold.) It’s got me thinking about stories. Stories people tell, and why they tell them. Funny stories. Sad stories. Happy stories. Vulnerable stories.
Basically what I’ve realized, though, is that they’re all one and the same.
We need stories in order to live. Stories give us a sense of who other people are, and who we are.
And that stories that aren’t often told are the best ones.
Which is exactly what I want to do with my life. I want to let other people know that, as a disabled women, I like my life. Sometimes it sucks, and sometimes it’s great. But everyone’s life is like that. So why should mine be any different?
I’m here to share my story with you. Why?
Because I kind of need to.
(I’ve written about how disabled narratives are a form of empowerment before. To read that post, go here.)