Reflecting on the Girl in the Mirror: Disability, Fashion, and Owning Your Body
Most people who know me would probably tell you I’m slightly obsessed with everything fashion and make up related. They might also tell you that I love to wear dresses, often accompanied by some kind of funky sneaker, usually in neon colors or cool prints. Some people might even tell you that I’m the queen of the selfie. A lot of people tell me that I’m really confident when it comes to makeup choices and my style…but I have a confession to make.
When I was younger, I hated my body with a passion. I hated not being able to walk, run, or jump like my older sister. I hated being stared a everywhere I went because I looked different than everybody else. I hated the way my body would jerk and spasm because of my cerebral palsy. I hated the scars left on my body from surgeries meant to fix me. Most of all, I hated going to the doctor and hearing what was still wrong with me, wrong with my body. I grew up hating my body because it didn’t work the way everyone else’s did. Instead of embracing my body and it's differences, all I wanted to do was hide it. I wanted to blend into the walls and disappear. I was sick of being different. I was sick of standing out.
I spent many of my elementary, middle, and high school years being frustrated that I couldn’t force my body into everyone else’s standards. I wasn’t skinny and I couldn’t walk. I may not have shown it on the outside but I constantly felt like a freak, and I blamed my body. I can’t count the number of times I said or thought, “if I could only walk everything would be okay,” or “if I was thin, then I would deserve to be happy.” I had bought into the lie our society sells that some bodies are more valuable than others, and therefore some people are more valuable than others. It wasn’t only making me sad, it was killing me. I bought into the lie that I was the problem, my body was the problem, and I wanted to destroy it. I struggled through years of self-hatred, self harm, disordered eating, and a refusal to take care of my body the way I deserved because I didn’t think it was good enough. I have always loved fashion, but for me it used to represent forcing myself to be something I wasn’t, and fitting in to somebody else’s idea of what was beautiful.
Our society teaches us that disabled bodies are not supposed to be considered beautiful or valuable. I bought into that lie, and I hated the girl reflected back at me in the mirror. I bought into that lie every time someone would tell me, “you’re too pretty to be in a wheelchair”, or “you’re so pretty it’s a shame you’re in a wheelchair,” or “You’re really pretty… for a girl in a wheelchair.” My body couldn’t be pretty or acceptable as a whole, it had to be qualified, or it could be thought of as pretty only it was thought of as normalized. We are taught to think of disabled bodies as obviously defective, and therefore somehow immune from the ability to be beautiful, or even acceptable. Disabled people are rarely encouraged to celebrate or bring attention to their bodies, but rather they are encouraged to ignore or hide them. When possible, we are often encouraged to “pass” as non-disabled and ignore our impairments.
Disabled bodies are rarely celebrated, and when they are it’s usually in the context of supercripping and overcoming disability,or inspiration porn, an exploitation of disabled bodies often used to make able-bodied people feel better about their lives. These types of displays do not serve to celebrate the beauty of disabled bodies, but rather to celebrate a perceived societal value in overcoming these bodies, and becoming almost normal, or even sometimes almost superhuman. It is not about loving or honoring the disabled body for what it is. It’s about defining and understanding the disabled body by the expectations of an able-bodied society.
This type of rhetoric encourages so much more than just simple frustration with disability or impairment. It encourages self-hatred because it is impossible to separate yourself from your disability. I will never wake up, not even once, and be non-disabled, so when I’m encouraged to hide my disability and pretend it doesn’t exist, I’m encouraged to hide an integral part of myself.
Even within the growing body positivity movement, visibly disabled bodies are largely absent. For me, being part of fashion and beauty culture is not about changing my body or being ashamed of it, but rather embracing it. It was finding my own place in the culture that taught me to be proud of my disabled, fat body. For me, embracing a fashion and beauty culture of my own is a radical statement,because I am no longer trying to fit into someone else’s standards of beauty, rather I am making my own. I believe that everyone deserves to claim their own style, and I believe that owning your own sense of style can be used as a radical tool to say “I will not ignore my body, and I will not be erased.”
I may never rock the high heels, but I have a sense of style all my own. Finding and owning that helped me to stop hating my body, and encouraged me to start a body positive project that focuses on the intersection of fashion and disability. I no longer want to fade into the walls. Instead, I wear bright colors. I no longer try to painstakingly copy the pages of fashion magazine, instead I take inspiration from what I love and what works for me. I no longer worry about the stares as much as I used to, or at least I try my hardest to ignore them. Instead I remember the words of legendary designer Harry Winston, “people will stare. Make it worth their while,” and I do my best to embrace it.
Fashion should never be about fitting into somebody else’s idea of what is beautiful, it should be about making your own kind of beautiful. For so long I thought there wasn’t a place for me when it came to fashion and being proud of your body but now I know the truth there’s a place for me and there’s a place for everyone. Loving your body is a process, but I refuse to believe the lie that my body cannot be beautiful because I am disabled. I want to stop hating my body, and I want to help other people do the same.
I invite you to check out Ceepstyle, new new body positivity project, and submit photos of your own style, because I want to create a place where everybody belongs and were style isn't exclusive because I have always felt that it should be inclusive.
[Image Description: A white female with blonde hair and black glasses sitting in a wheelchair wearing bright pink lipstick, a blue and white printed dress, and bright pink shoes, smiling at the camera.]
When I was younger, I hated my body with a passion. I hated not being able to walk, run, or jump like my older sister. I hated being stared a everywhere I went because I looked different than everybody else. I hated the way my body would jerk and spasm because of my cerebral palsy. I hated the scars left on my body from surgeries meant to fix me. Most of all, I hated going to the doctor and hearing what was still wrong with me, wrong with my body. I grew up hating my body because it didn’t work the way everyone else’s did. Instead of embracing my body and it's differences, all I wanted to do was hide it. I wanted to blend into the walls and disappear. I was sick of being different. I was sick of standing out.
I spent many of my elementary, middle, and high school years being frustrated that I couldn’t force my body into everyone else’s standards. I wasn’t skinny and I couldn’t walk. I may not have shown it on the outside but I constantly felt like a freak, and I blamed my body. I can’t count the number of times I said or thought, “if I could only walk everything would be okay,” or “if I was thin, then I would deserve to be happy.” I had bought into the lie our society sells that some bodies are more valuable than others, and therefore some people are more valuable than others. It wasn’t only making me sad, it was killing me. I bought into the lie that I was the problem, my body was the problem, and I wanted to destroy it. I struggled through years of self-hatred, self harm, disordered eating, and a refusal to take care of my body the way I deserved because I didn’t think it was good enough. I have always loved fashion, but for me it used to represent forcing myself to be something I wasn’t, and fitting in to somebody else’s idea of what was beautiful.
Our society teaches us that disabled bodies are not supposed to be considered beautiful or valuable. I bought into that lie, and I hated the girl reflected back at me in the mirror. I bought into that lie every time someone would tell me, “you’re too pretty to be in a wheelchair”, or “you’re so pretty it’s a shame you’re in a wheelchair,” or “You’re really pretty… for a girl in a wheelchair.” My body couldn’t be pretty or acceptable as a whole, it had to be qualified, or it could be thought of as pretty only it was thought of as normalized. We are taught to think of disabled bodies as obviously defective, and therefore somehow immune from the ability to be beautiful, or even acceptable. Disabled people are rarely encouraged to celebrate or bring attention to their bodies, but rather they are encouraged to ignore or hide them. When possible, we are often encouraged to “pass” as non-disabled and ignore our impairments.
Disabled bodies are rarely celebrated, and when they are it’s usually in the context of supercripping and overcoming disability,or inspiration porn, an exploitation of disabled bodies often used to make able-bodied people feel better about their lives. These types of displays do not serve to celebrate the beauty of disabled bodies, but rather to celebrate a perceived societal value in overcoming these bodies, and becoming almost normal, or even sometimes almost superhuman. It is not about loving or honoring the disabled body for what it is. It’s about defining and understanding the disabled body by the expectations of an able-bodied society.
This type of rhetoric encourages so much more than just simple frustration with disability or impairment. It encourages self-hatred because it is impossible to separate yourself from your disability. I will never wake up, not even once, and be non-disabled, so when I’m encouraged to hide my disability and pretend it doesn’t exist, I’m encouraged to hide an integral part of myself.
Even within the growing body positivity movement, visibly disabled bodies are largely absent. For me, being part of fashion and beauty culture is not about changing my body or being ashamed of it, but rather embracing it. It was finding my own place in the culture that taught me to be proud of my disabled, fat body. For me, embracing a fashion and beauty culture of my own is a radical statement,because I am no longer trying to fit into someone else’s standards of beauty, rather I am making my own. I believe that everyone deserves to claim their own style, and I believe that owning your own sense of style can be used as a radical tool to say “I will not ignore my body, and I will not be erased.”
I may never rock the high heels, but I have a sense of style all my own. Finding and owning that helped me to stop hating my body, and encouraged me to start a body positive project that focuses on the intersection of fashion and disability. I no longer want to fade into the walls. Instead, I wear bright colors. I no longer try to painstakingly copy the pages of fashion magazine, instead I take inspiration from what I love and what works for me. I no longer worry about the stares as much as I used to, or at least I try my hardest to ignore them. Instead I remember the words of legendary designer Harry Winston, “people will stare. Make it worth their while,” and I do my best to embrace it.
Fashion should never be about fitting into somebody else’s idea of what is beautiful, it should be about making your own kind of beautiful. For so long I thought there wasn’t a place for me when it came to fashion and being proud of your body but now I know the truth there’s a place for me and there’s a place for everyone. Loving your body is a process, but I refuse to believe the lie that my body cannot be beautiful because I am disabled. I want to stop hating my body, and I want to help other people do the same.
I invite you to check out Ceepstyle, new new body positivity project, and submit photos of your own style, because I want to create a place where everybody belongs and were style isn't exclusive because I have always felt that it should be inclusive.
[Image Description: A white female with blonde hair and black glasses sitting in a wheelchair wearing bright pink lipstick, a blue and white printed dress, and bright pink shoes, smiling at the camera.]
