I
love when I see sex, queerness and disability talked about in the media
landscape. Almost all of my professional
persona and my job is built on putting these stories out there. I am hungry to see this stuff – this type of
representation is so important and often so lacking. Every disabled person can almost guarantee
that we won’t see ourselves represented unless we choose to be represented in
very particular and often damaging ways.
Let
me be very clear - I am a fame **** of epic proportions and I will take whatever media attention I can, with the express purpose
of championing my cause and the work I do, so that those after me have a guide
post. That is my ultimate goal, and I
will do what I have to do to achieve that.
But, if I am really honest with you, there is a narrative around
disability and sexuality as it is portrayed in the media that is starting to
get, well, tired…overdone and overdrawn.
In fact, it is one of the only depictions of disability and sex that is
readily available: The Reveal Narrative.
I
was scrolling through social media tonight and I saw an article pop up on my
Twitter feed that said, “5 People with Disabilities Reveal What Dating is
Actually Like”. The article itself was
full of important information centered around the lived experience of dating
while disabled. I felt that this was the
meat of the piece, and what the reader should be focused on. But the idea of “The Reveal Narrative”
stayed with me, and has irked me – even as I write this.
A
quick Google Search of past articles on sex and disability highlight that the
reveal narrative is alive and well. I
found 9 articles that use the word “reveal” in the title to lead into a
sensationalistic discussion of sex and disability. Other articles used titles like, “What it’s
Really Like to Have Sex and Disability”. I even wrote a piece a few years back, where the editor changed the
title to better fit this tone.
I
find The Reveal Narrative destructive for all the reasons you might expect –
its subversively ableist undertones remind us that sex and disability is still
shocking and taboo. It underpins the
fact that we, as disabled people, are to be gawked at, and that our sex and
sexuality is so secretive and different in scope and practice – that whenever
we even deign to talk about it, in any context whatsoever, it must be uncovered
or discovered, as if it’s this thing that is shrouded in secrecy. The magazines and media outlets jump on this
salacious and incendiary fact so that they can sell stories, but the embers of
that flame, I think, burn people with disabilities in other ways, too.
Thanks
to the idea of revealing/uncovering/surprising people with the idea of sex and
disability, I have come to use that narrative in how I approach others. There have been moments where I have seen my
sex as overtly taboo or “special” in some way. I have used queer disabled sex as some fabled currency to entice a lover
over. Like Darth Vader enticing Luke to the Dark Side. I
have played with the ideas of sex and disability as being the “sex you never
knew you wanted” or quipped that I’d show a guy just how good sex and
disability could be.I’ve joked with guys
that I want to be their first cripple, in essence revealing to them the “truth
of sex and disability” (whatever the hell that is). That’s a whole lot of **** pressure to
live up to. What if it is revealed that
I’m bad at it? What if you discovered
that I just want to cuddle? Or, gasp,
what if I let on that I wanted to get to know you?
I’d
love to see news stories and magazines that are willing to talk about sex and
disability, do so in a way that is a little different. Let the stories inside, told by the people
who lived them, speak for themselves. Those are the narratives that are the most critical and vital in
changing the way we look at sex and disability. If everything we do, see and read about
disabled sex/dating is revelatory, how will it ever become mainstream?
How will I ever see myself as anything more
than your novelty date, your first queer cripple or the first time you were
with a guy in a chair? Let me be real a
minute. Unlike the media suggests, when
you hang out, date or get **** with me, the only big reveal will be that I am
awkward, nervous, and f**ked up. Not too
surprising, is it?
Follow Andrew Gurza at http://www.andrewgurza.com/ and on Twitter andrewgurza - Thank you to Yuli Scheidt for the photographs.
