There are many different kinds of disabilities in the world, and I live with a physical disability just like so many others. One of the biggest frustrations I have with today’s society is how often people lump physical disabilities together with age-related disabilities. For some reason, society places the disability community and senior citizens in the same category, as though our lived experiences automatically line up.
I understand that aging brings changes—new aches, pains, and challenges. But seniors will never experience even half of what someone born with a physical disability goes through over a lifetime. So why are these two very different communities treated as one?
Yes, age-related limitations may qualify as disabilities, but they are not the same as being born with a disability or acquiring one early in life. What bothers me is that society doesn’t see the difference. Instead, they pile everyone with any type of disability into one group, as if we all face the same struggles and need the same kind of support.
I say this with love because I genuinely care about seniors. I study gerontology and have a passion for the elderly. And I respect disabilities that aren’t physical—mental health, cognitive, and more. But when you put people with completely different abilities and needs together in the same low-income building just because society doesn’t know where else to place them, it doesn’t work.
I know this firsthand. I’ve been living on my own for five years with cerebral palsy in a low-income rental building. It gets overwhelming—especially when I’m the only one here with a lifelong physical disability. Through this, I’ve learned something important:
There is a significant difference between being born with a disability, having a disability from aging, and having a mental or cognitive disability.
These differences matter. They shape our everyday lives, our independence, and the support systems we need.
There has to be a middle ground—a place for physically disabled adults who are independent, low-income, and not elderly. A place where we’re not forced into environments that don’t reflect our needs or our lived realities.
We deserve communities that see us clearly—not ones that group us together because it’s easier.
