One of the more insidious forms of internalized ableism is when we look at others and beat ourselves up for not being able to do what they are doing. What makes it particularly insidious is that it is easy to miss that we are engaging in internalized ableism. What makes it so insidious is that … Continue reading
I have scars. Some are small, dots of white, thickened skin from IVs and needles. Some are grand and dramatic, hinting of glorious, terrifying wounds. I’ve written here and here about where they came from, so I won’t rehash it again. I always think of that day in May, shortly after my 37th birthday, as … Continue reading
I’m sure many of you will read that title and think: One too many cupcakes, Cait? Is all that sugar affecting your perception? Nope. It’s true. My first entry into feeling in community with a disabled person was when I bonded with Noola Quirk from Life in the ’Cosm. Okay, yeah, I know it seems … Continue reading
Just to set the record straight, I’m not brave, okay? I live with spastic cerebral palsy (CP) and relapse-and-remitting multiple sclerosis (MS). I can’t count the number of people who have called me brave. I always smile and nod when they say this, but the truth is that bravery has nothing to do with it. … Continue reading
“How do you make this sexy?” a reader asked me, gesturing to her wheelchair in the middle of one of my sex education Q&A sessions. The question stumped me because the answer isn’t an easy one. The short version is: You don’t. There isn’t anything inherently sexy about using a wheelchair or a walker, or having … Continue reading
I have an interesting relationship with pen names. I’ve been writing since I was eight years old, and I started thinking about a pen name almost immediately. It wasn’t that I disliked my name, exactly. I’m very attached to the name given to me by my parents,—mostly because I’m very attached to my parents—but I … Continue reading
I feel that the image of an unruly beast of fierce proportions best conveys just what place incapacitating chronic illness occupies in one’s life. This beastie is like a tantrum-prone toddler that keeps you in a state of constant vigilance for fear it will bring you down so low, getting back up might take longer … Continue reading
One of the events I attended for Pride this year was the latest iteration of Toronto’s edition of Naked Boys Reading. When I arrived, one of my friends who works at the venue innocently asked me if I was going to be reading. And without missing a beat, without even thinking, my response was to … Continue reading
