“I really had no idea what it was like living with a disability until we became friends,” a friend from university said to me. I was driving us back to Auckland from Whakatane after we’d spent a week interning as
Right from staying in the hospital, I received messages that disability was something I should avoid identifying with; a paraplegic peer supporter told me they were dismayed at having to get a moon boot because they would look "even more disabled."
This is a love letter because these acts of inclusion are in sharp contrast to lots of what makes up the daily grind of being a disabled person. I call it love because it feels like the appropriate antidote to