For the next two weeks, we are talking about sexuality and the LGBTQ+ community, today Emma shares experiences of being a disabled, pansexual person.
Up until my early teens I was a very ordinary girl growing
up in Yorkshire, with my most notable trait being my academic performance. At
age 14 however, amidst the many horrors of pubescent hormones, I contracted
viral meningitis. I never really recovered, which is hardly surprising
considering a virus tried to eat my brain, and I was left with Myalgic
Encephalomyelitis (ME, sometimes known as Chronic Fatigue Syndrome/CFS). The
disease got progressively worse until I came to be in my present situation,
that being relying on a powered wheelchair whenever I leave my city-centre
apartment as I can no longer walk very far. This situation is somewhat
depressing, but a university education, fulfilling job, and steady relationship
keep me from becoming overwhelmed by it. In fact, one of the many reasons I
started my blog, Diary of a
Disabled Person, was to show that disability didn’t render my life a
miserable wreck.
Due to the fact that the majority of my teens was spent
growing accustomed to life with a chronic illness, I never got the opportunity
to explore my sexuality until early adulthood; I simply assumed I was straight
because I was sexually attracted to (some) men. I was wrong. Very, very wrong.
Ironically it was only after being in a relationship for some time that I came
to the conclusion that I was very definitely not heterosexual, a conclusion I
drew after watching Passengers in the cinema and noting that it wasn’t just
Chris Pratt who interested me. I am pansexual (I often use the term bisexual
instead as this is a more widely understood term, but if we’re getting
technical here, then it’s pansexual). My relationship gave me the
self-confidence to recognise my sexuality, and the security to be open about
it, something which I relish to this day.
Unfortunately for me, both ME and pansexuality are
disputable in the sense that many people fail to believe I have ME, am
pansexual, or both. ME has no visible manifestations, instead relying on
self-declared symptoms like fatigue, pain, nausea, dizziness, and other issues
for a diagnosis. Similarly, most pansexuals have been told they are simply
confused or experimental, or just to pick a side. I have faced accusations of
being a lesbian who is too scared to come out as such, using my relationship
with a person of the opposite sex as ammunition against me. I know I’m not a
lesbian because a) my partner is hot, and b) so is Hugh Jackman.
In a strange way, living with ME and dealing with all the
doubt that came with it prepared me well for exploring my sexuality years
later. I was already able to distinguish when someone was asking a question
genuinely, or when they were just trying to rile me and would never reconsider
their position no matter how much evidence was displayed before them. While the
disability did delay my exploration of sexuality, it made the process easy. The
only significant difference between developing ME and coming out as pansexual
is that coming out of the proverbial closet didn’t change me or impact my
lifestyle, because I was pansexual from the beginning.
Having read the whole piece I would hope that you can come to the conclusion
that I am genuine in both my disability and sexuality, and that neither is for
the sake of political correctness. Perhaps it is time to consider the
flexibility of both characteristics, and what is meant by the labels society
imposes upon us.
Has your impairment meant
you explored sexuality at a different time? Was your experience different to Emma’s? Do you feel you are perceived differently in the LGBTQ+ community for being a disabled person I’d
love to hear your thoughts in the comments below!
