For many years now, I have proudly worn the label of disabled.

I have rejected person first language,  not because it’s wrong, but because for me

, there’s no such thing as me with a disability, and me without a disability.

My disability is a part of what makes me, well, me.

To me, my disability is no different than any other of my myriad of traits, quirks, likes, and dislikes. I call myself disabled, the same way I might call myself a blonde, a woman, or any of my other identities, but quite often when I call myself disabled I am met with the same response from well-meaning able-bodied people.

“You mean you’re a person with a disability. Your disability doesn’t define you,” they say, and they’re not exactly wrong.

My disability doesn’t define me, at least not entirely. I am more than a list of diagnoses and conditions. While my disabilities cannot be separated from me and leave behind the same person, they don’t make me any less human, or less worthy of having a good and fulfilling life. Being disabled is one aspect of who I am, not the whole story.

I’m disabled but that doesn’t make it okay to discriminate against me or declare my life as worthless. I’m disabled, and that way of being undeniably affects every other part of me, but it doesn’t mean that I’m nothing more than a medical condition, or that my medical condition somehow eclipses my humanity.

\At least, that’s what I’ve always believed, but apparently, some members of Congress don’t agree.

To the American Healthcare Act (AHCA), I’m just a “pre-existing condition", well actually more than one.

According to AHCA, I am my medical history. AHCA says I am nothing more than the sum of the boxes I have to check off on a medical form. In a world that constantly admonished me for, “defining myself by my disability,” AHCA is doing exactly that in the worst possible way.

The AHCA declares me, and the millions like me, unworthy of supports central to our survival by reducing us to a diagnosis, a label on a sheet of paper, nothing more.

When you talk about my personhood, and my identity using terms like, “pre-existing condition,” and use it as an excuse to exclude me, and declare me ineligible for health coverage, you completely miss the point.

Under AHCA, "pre-existing condition" ends my story before it even got a chance to start. It kills me in my first hours of life, when I was but a story yet unwritten, and a question mark in the book of life.

Under ACHA, pre-existing condition sees only the parts of me that were not yet ready to work, and the brain left forever changed, destined to belong to a girl who will live her entire life outside of the confines of “typical.”

Under AHCA, pre-existing condition sees a problem where other people see a miracle, but I don’t think I’m either, I just think I’m human. Under AHCA, pre-existing condition denies my family a middle child who always had to do things her own way.

Under AHCA, pre-existing condition is the echo of every teacher, and medical professional who told me what I would not be, and the driving force behind those family members, teachers, and doctors who knew it was just a label. Pre-existing condition doesn’t know that I am someone’s little sister, someone’s partner in crime for all of life. Nor does it know that I am someone else’s big sister, the giver of advice, and the taker of more than my fair share.

Under AHCA, pre-existing condition is the worst days, the days when I feel more freak than human, and the days when I question if I will ever measure up, but it’s a lie. Pre-existing condition doesn’t know that I am a scholar, and activist, a writer, and so much more. Under AHCA, pre-existing condition says that there is only one right way to live life, and turns diversity into failure.

Under AHCA, pre-existing condition says that discrimination is okay, as long as it can be backed up by some form of evidence. It furthers the lie that there is such a thing as a “normal body” or “a right way to be .” It gives validity to the lie that some people are more human, more worthy of life, than others. It uses medical terminology to declare that difference has no place in our society. It echoes the painful not so distant past, where certain people were declared, “life unworthy of life,” nothing more than a burden to others.

Under AHCA, pre-existing condition is the enemy of progress and all we hold dear. It encourages us to stick to the status quo rather than challenging us to think differently and try another way.  Under AHCA, pre-existing condition reduces the complexity of human existence to a list of diagnoses on a paper, but it also does so much more than that.

It’s not just about insurance, it’s about worth, it’s about living. To AHCA, I am just a pre-existing condition, and my existence is, therefore, a problem unworthy of consideration or attention, but AHCA is wrong. I’m not a problem to be ignored, excluded, or stamped out. I’m a person, and with the right support, in the right environment, where I can be more than just a list of pre-existing conditions, I will not only survive I will thrive.

To AHCA, I’m just a pre-existing condition, but AHCA doesn’t know the first thing about me, so I think it’s time I introduced myself.

Hi  AHCA, I’m a disabled person. I’m a daughter, a sister, a rebel, a writer, an activist, a scholar, and a nerd.

I’m the queen of sass and the embodiment of cheeky. I love makeup, fashion, and deep philosophical conversations

 I am an American, and believe it or not, a taxpayer. I am too many things to list on a piece of paper or a computer screen, and I have (more than one) pre-existing conditions.

So, AHCA, since you asked, or maybe precisely because you didn’t, that’s who I am. That’s what you see when you look beyond the label. That’s who I get to be if I’m given a chance to be more than my diagnosis.

But to you, and everyone who voted for you, I am just a pre-existing condition, and nothing more.

[Image description: a red and white name tag with white text. The top of the name tag reads, "hello, my name is, underneath that there is a black X through previous text and on top of the X, the words, "just a pre-existing condition," are written in white text. The bottom part of the name tag has a red background, and gray text that reads www.claimingcrip.com]