As a young disabled man I have to run at night time to avoid stares
As a child, it never occurred to me that I was disabled.
I am a triplet and both my brother and sister are non-disabled so I would run all the time and was incredibly active – I’d just get on with it.
However, I have cerebral palsy (CP), which causes impaired motor function on the right side of my body and affects my arm. At 22, I still run – but only at night-time.
I find the cover of darkness comforting. Growing up with the odd glance or question from a stranger about my CP made me hyper-perceptive.
Whatever people’s reasons for glancing at me on the street, I came to always assume the worst; that they were staring at my arm, judging me for it – finding it funny, even.
One of my most vivid memories is of being mocked by my friends a during tennis lesson for my posture. Similarly, in swimming lessons, it was impossible for me to swim with correct technique. My classmates picked up on this and singled me out.
I remember begging my parents to buy me a swim-shirt, pretending that I was concerned about sunburn when in reality it was just another way to hide my arm.
I run at night to remove the possibility of these stares. A defence mechanism to hide the reality of my body away from others, and from myself.
Because of this, I have struggled to come to terms with my identity as a disabled person. For a long time, I stopped running altogether and hid away from people because I was so uncomfortable in my own skin.
I started to compare myself to other people physically, and I hated who I was.
There wouldn’t be a waking moment when I wasn’t analysing myself, my posture, my arm, and doing my best to conceal and hide my impairment. If anyone asked about my arm, I would pretend it was broken.
For years I did no exercise at all, and I put on weight as a result. It really was damaging for my self-esteem and my mental health.
It wasn’t until I was 18 that I got back into the sport. I realised that I had let the harmful notion that disabled people are victims get to my head; I was worlds away from the eight-year-old boy who simply got on with life. I had allowed myself to become a victim, and I decided enough was enough.
Starting to run again was my way of regaining control of my self-worth. I’d become accustomed to the notion that disabled people are trapped, that there are simply some things we cannot do.
I know I’ll have to start running in the day very soon – my dad wants me to join him in a park run.
Running and getting fit became my way of eroding that myth.
I kept thinking of how appalled I would have been as a child at who I had become, and the thought of doing my childhood justice kept me going on my journey.
Still, I choose to run at night.
I tried running on the treadmill at my school but found myself constantly distracted by the paranoia that people were watching and making fun of me. Running at night seemed like the perfect solution and it stuck.
I have set a challenge for myself, though; later this year I will run the Royal Parks Half Marathon for the disability equality charity Scope.
Not only is the race happening in the day time, but I will be running in front of the crowds. The thought alone is terrifying to me.
The problems young disabled people face are so severe. In many cases, those of us with a disability are not debilitated by our own bodies, but by society, we live in.
Social media places so much emphasis on aesthetic value and for disabled people, who have no control over what their body looks like, it can be agonising to discover that the bodies we celebrate online, the bodies we ascribe worth to, are overwhelmingly non-disabled.
Despite this, I do believe that people’s attitudes are changing. Although social media can be toxic, there are ways in which it can be used as a force for good.
Disabled activists like Jessica Kellgren-Fotzard or Paddy Smyth use social media as a major platform for opening up discussion about disability, and for destabilising so much of the stigma that surrounds disability.
We all need to familiarise ourselves with disability. We all need to challenge negative attitudes. If we do not expose ourselves to disabled lives and stories, then disability will continue to appear alien to us.
As long as this is the case, disabled people will continue to feel abnormal, and more prone to isolating and hiding away.
I still have those urges to hide, as I did as a teenager. Running at night is comforting, but I know I’ll have to start running in the day very soon – my dad wants me to join him in a park run.
I’m trying to open myself up to who I am and to my body. I would encourage people not to assume negative intent from others, and I’d like to inspire teenagers who might be feeling how I once felt by sharing my experiences.
To sponsor Adam visit https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/adam-selvey or take on your own sporting challenge for Scope and visit www.scope.org.uk/events
Source: Read Full Article