Independence and disability can exist at the same time.”
Sometimes, where I live, people don’t always understand me or the difference between their behavior and mine. It’s frustrating living in a place where I’m often the only one who truly knows what it’s like to live with a disability from birth.
Living in low-income housing that serves people 55 and over and people with disabilities comes with its own challenges. Sometimes I wish I lived in a building that wasn’t assisted living, but instead was centered around people with physical disabilities — a place where independence is respected, not questioned.
When I first moved here, there were times I felt deeply lonely. No one really understood me, and some people didn’t want me here because they believed I was “too capable” to live on my own. That hurt, because independence and support can exist at the same time.
Being in this building, surrounded by so many different personalities, has taught me something important. Often, people assume that the person who stays calm — the one who doesn’t argue, doesn’t react, doesn’t act like a child — is weak. But in reality, that person is usually the bigger one.
Staying mature when others don’t can be one of my greatest challenges. Sometimes it feels like people are watching, waiting for me to fall apart — as if seeing a disabled person lose control would prove their belief that people with disabilities shouldn’t be independent. That pressure is heavy, and it’s unfair.
I have worked my entire life to manage my emotions — not because emotions are wrong, but because I don’t want them used against me. I don’t want to be labeled as emotionally incapable on top of everything else. I don’t want my feelings turned into proof that I can’t handle my own life.
There are moments when I would love to give in and tell people off. But I don’t, because I hold myself to higher boundaries. By putting boundaries on myself, I am empowering myself. I am choosing not to give in to what others want from me — not because I can’t control myself, but because I can.
I refuse to let people win by pulling me into reactions that don’t reflect who I am. My restraint isn’t silence — it’s strength. My boundaries aren’t weakness — they are self-respect.
I know who I am.
I’m responsible.
I’m strong.
I’m growing.
I don’t need to prove my independence by pretending I don’t need support. And I don’t need to hide my disability to earn respect. I deserve to be seen as a whole person — not judged by appearances, assumptions, or misunderstandings.
I choose respect.
I choose peace.
I choose myself.
OUR BEAUTIFUL CHALLENGES 