A Humiliating Encounter

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Sometimes, our minds create stories that we believe will happen. Personally speaking, I think I waste a lot of time worrying about things that never happen, yet I often can’t help myself from dwelling on these fictitious scenarios. Maybe, it’s because I’ve endured a lifetime of stranger’s flippant and downright rude comments towards me and my disabled body. Totally unsolicited. When these stories don’t come to life, I think to myself, “how silly that I spent all this at time worrying about something that never happened!”

I guess my best explanation for why I do this is a way of protecting myself from deep wounds caused by others who don’t even know me. Maybe, if I can think it before it happens it won’t hurt so bad. It’s happened countless times over my lifetime as a disabled person. It doesn’t matter if they don’t know me, or that their comments probably have more to do with whatever may he going on in their lives more than it is about me. Ok, I get that. However, words hurt. They cut deep and can leave us feeling humiliated and broken. Hateful words are hard to forget.

Last week, I was having an good day physically. It was a day when I felt I could make a short trip to the grocery store to get a few things my pick up order was lacking. Gone are the days where I can do an entire grocery trip on my own two feet, but these shorter trips are still within reach on some days. I’m grateful. It was a beautiful warm, sunny December day, and I was in a joyful mood. 

As I made my way to the back of the store to look for light bulbs, I passed a woman going the opposite way in the aisle. After I passed her, I noticed she turned around to follow me. “It feels like she’s following me a little too close”, I thought. I felt uncomfortable. As soon as that thought crossed my mind, I heard her loudly say, “Come on! Surely, you can walk better than that. Pathetic!” I couldn’t believe this was happening. Ugh. I made the quick decision not to engage with this woman even though I SO badly wanted to. It takes tremendous self-control not to defend myself in these situations, but I just can’t put myself in situations that could be really unsafe for me. I have no self-defense, physically speaking. 

Thankfully, she turned down the next aisle and walked away. I stood there for a second, tears starting to surface, and I quickly pushed them away. I finished my shopping, checked out, unloaded my groceries, and got into the safe space of my car, wondering why I have to deal with such ignorance on a frequent basis. I know it will never end. It’s going to keep happening. It will. 

The difference this time, was that when I got into my car, I did things differently. Normally, I would have bawled my eyes out and called my husband, sister, parents or my cousin. My go to people who understand. But this time, I didn’t cry. I took a deep breath, said a quick prayer for the woman who had just verbally attacked me, and I drove off. 

Later. I told my sister about it. I told her this time I didn’t cry, I moved on. She said, “you are strengthening that muscle”. It hurt, oh my goodness it hurt me. It embarrassed me. It shamed me. But, it also showed me that I am stronger in ways I didn’t used to be. I’m changing, and that will help me in the future when these unsolicited attacks take place. It doesn’t ever get easier. Each time feels like the first time. It’s truly awful. 

It takes humble courage to move past things that are so deeply wounding to our souls. To create ways of coping that don’t keep us prisoners of some stranger’s hateful words. Most of us could never fathom treating another human being like that. To most, it’s shocking that someone would think this way, let alone voice it. We can’t change the actions of others. Unless I lock myself in my home and never leave, I’m always going to encounter this type of scenario directed towards my disability. I will keep strengthening my “rise above” muscle. My “letting things go” muscle. I don’t want these encounters to take up any more of my time and energy than the few seconds they take place. That’s what I will choose to focus on. 💚

For more on my story, follow me on Instagram @ashinneman. Also, check out my regular column, “Disability in the City” in The Hamilton County Reporter.