Encounters with the Disability Police: my illness, emotional support animal, and "be nice" mandate

Encounters with the Disability Police: my illness, emotional support animal, and "be nice" mandate

Others’ judgment and treatment of me transformed my own beliefs about the legitimacy of my illness. I unintentionally invalidated my own body’s experience of pain, and I’d allowed those who chastised me for “taking advantage” to usurp my right to be treated decently outside the confines of my own home.  In letting people like this dictate how I would care for myself while enduring unspeakable pain, I somehow lost ownership of my experience.

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“But you don’t look sick.”

“But you don’t look sick.”

I opened the driver door and was confronted with a wave of judgment and anger.  The man yelled at me: “can’t you see we are still getting into our car? You’re not even disabled! You shouldn’t even be parking there!” I flushed with embarrassment and became shaky.  And for the first time in my life, I yelled at someone in public. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You know nothing about me!”

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