They want a woman who can at least reach the top of the counter (at just below 4-feet tall, I don’t quite make the cut; I suppose that precludes me from rollercoasters too, doesn’t it? I wanted to see if my fears about men not wanting anything to do with a woman with a disability were grounded in any real truth.
I didn’t get as many responses as I’d hoped, but then again, I sort of expected that.
I woke up on the side of the road, paralyzed from the chest down.
Anne Thomas " data-medium-file="https://tbmwomenintheworld2016.files.wordpress.com/2015/04/alexander-photo-2-131.jpg? w=300" data-large-file="https://tbmwomenintheworld2016.files.wordpress.com/2015/04/alexander-photo-2-131.jpg? w=1024" / Recently a friend asked me how my love life was going and I drew a blank. In 1976, at the age of 18, I dropped out of college after three semesters and went hitchhiking alone in Europe—to find myself.
It’s not just that I’m 57: I also live with a disability.
No way was I going to allow myself to be shut away from life.
I wanted an education, a career, adventure, love, and sex.
It’s 10.55pm and I’m sat at my computer, tabbing between Facebook and Gmail while I try to decide if this is a good idea or not. Instead, I’m doing this because somebody needs to tell the truth about what it’s like to date with a disability.