In life, we experience a
number of very specific and character building ‘firsts’: first word, first day
of school, first failure, first job, first date, etc. Each of these ‘firsts’ are seen as a rite of passage that each of us go through.
They give us the tools and the experience we need to become the people
we want to be. It is expected that
these ‘firsts’ will quickly become seconds, thirds and fourths as we navigate
the world around us. I’d like to focus
in on the first date, and discuss why I feel it has been a particularly pivotal
post for me as a PwD.
The first date is a trope
that we have become all too familiar with.
Movies and media have highlighted that one’s first date can have two
very distinct outcomes: it can go amazingly and you can meet someone with whom
you connect on all the levels; you know that whole “sparks fly” thing occurs,
and the fires of passion begin a-burning.
On the other hand, first dates can lead to you making up stories to run
out of there with your dignity intact.
C’mon, we’ve all been there: you’re looking across the table and
thinking, “I should totally be binging Netflix right now”, wondering why you
left your apartment for this sorry attempt at social interaction.
Even with the risk of
romantic ruin always on the horizon, we trudge forward, slogging through bad
date after slightly better-but still-pretty-bad date, knowing that eventually,
1 will lead to 2 will lead to standing in the sun in Vermont. We just have to keep putting ourselves out
there, and we will click with someone, right?
Imagine though, that the
cringe-inducing first date that is chock-full of awkward silences, uncertainty
and a slew of poorly placed puns, was the only kind of date that you had ever
been on. That you don’t know what it
feels like to actually connect with someone, because after drinks and dinner,
as you wheel out from behind the table in your wheelchair, they don’t call
you. They say all the things that they
have been conditioned to say, in an attempt to spare your feelings, and for two
seconds you think maybe you’ll see them again. You don’t.
Seriously, at times it can
be like living in a bad Adam Sandler/Katherine Heigl date film without the
happy ending. I am not sure how many
times I have explained my disability to someone, being sure to insert a pun,
waiting for the look of terror to twist into, at the very least an
uncomfortable smile. How many times I have had text conversations that very
quickly became one-sided and eventually ended by telling me they “just couldn’t
do it” or some variation of this.
These are things that could
happen to anyone, I know, so it doesn’t necessarily mean that they are directly
correlated to disability, but I will say that when you have never had anything
other than a first date, each one marked by a series of nervous queries, made either to question or quiet the disability, these thoughts start to creep in.
To paraphrase a line from
any number of romantic comedies from the late 80s to mid 90s, while I have been
kissed MANY TIMES (I am indeed that amaze balls), I often feel that I will never be missed. Will anybody ever want to see me again?
I’ll never get to experience that which
comes after the first drink or dinner, and bad movie we both watched together. I’ll
never get to really understand what it means to be wanted My dating history
will be filled by awkward half-hugs and nothing more. I worry that every time I go on a date,
you’ll only see a part of me, and never get the chance to experience the
All-Encompassing Awesomeness that is Andrew.
I think I know why, too: Agreeing
to go on a second or third date with me, means that not only will you be
getting to know me, you’ll be getting to know my disability as well. The novelty of going on one date with that
disabled dude will wear off, and all you’ll be left with is my crippledness in
context.
Many well-intentioned guys
can’t handle that reality, and to them I say, “That’s okay, but you don’t know
who you’re missing out on.” The
scariest part of that last statement is that, if they don’t come back for more,
I’ll never know who it is they’re missing out on either.
If this world is all about
our ‘firsts’, I think I may just be ready for my first second date.
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