Confidence

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If you Google the word “confidence”, it has actually several different definitions. The one I want to focus on is this:

a feeling of self-assurance arising from one's appreciation of one's own abilities or qualities.

Confidence has often been a stranger to me in my life. No one tells you just how hard it is to have confidence when you’re disabled (and female). Social media didn’t exist when I was growing up so I felt like I was on an island all on my own. Having to figure it all out on my own too.

I had the common factors for not having much confidence: bad skin, braces, frizzy and curly hair, small boobs. I had to wear glasses when that wasn’t “cool” too. All of that was enough on its own, but then I had a limp and a disability that no one else around me had or understood.

Until my 30s, I dealt with this by trying to blend in with everyone around me. I’d buy whatever the latest clothing trends were. I used massive amounts of hair gel to try and get my hair flat and not “poofy”. I started wearing makeup like all of my classmates, especially to try to cover my blemishes. I just wanted to be invisible. When I fell in the hallways, it felt like the worst possible thing because it drew attention to me. I barely spoke in my classes and I always sat at the back.

In my later years now, I’m much more outgoing and even though I envy my younger self who was thin while also being able to eat whatever she wanted, I’m actually much more comfortable in my body (even though it would be considered less attractive than my younger body by societal standards). I’m not afraid to wear bright clothes or attract attention to myself. I even find myself strutting into rooms on occasion.

But the effort of feeling confident is still very much present for me. We’re not “supposed” to feel confident as a disabled person. We’re supposed to feel unattractive because society still sees disability as a flaw. I’ve had to fight against that feeling and perception real hard. Now with my walker, it’s been an added layer to fight against. I’m definitely not supposed to feel attractive using a mobility aid, especially one used by much older people around me.

I was trying to figure out what I wanted to wear to an event I was going to that weekend and all of a sudden I got overwhelmed. I pictured myself in my cute outfit, with my walker, going into another space where I would try to appear as confident as I could. It’s not just the feeling confident you have to contend with when you’re disabled, it’s the showing too. I not only want to feel confident, I want to show people I’m confident too. I want to show them so they know that I’m not just going to cower in the corner and stay home. I’m not going to let the world tell me I’m ugly or undesirable because I use a walker or have a limp. I also want to show any other disabled people that may be around that they can feel the same way.

Samantha Renke, a U.K. writer, actor, and activist who has brittle bone disease, said something in her book You Are the Best Thing Since Sliced Bread that really stuck with me and I try to live by. She says (paraphrasing here) that she tries not to allow herself to feel unconfident because that would be buying right into society’s idea that disabled people aren’t allowed to or supposed to feel confident. I had never thought of that until I read it in her book. All those years I spent in a shell, so afraid and feeling so terrible about myself, I was letting the perceptions of society be true for me. I was letting society win and control how I felt about myself. It’s damn hard when you never get any messaging or reinforcement that you’re worthy or beautiful.

I’m so thankful with how far I’ve come in my level of confidence. But I can’t deny that it’s still a very tiring undertaking. I wish it was effortless. I wish I didn’t have to think about it or try at it.

The thing I noticed about the definition of confidence above is that it doesn’t mention anything about “how you look”. It mentions an appreciation of your qualities and your abilities. Not how thin you are. How perfect your skin is. What your cup size is. How you dress. It’s about who you are as a person and what you offer the world.

Writing that paragraph about sitting in the back of the class and not talking very much made me sad. It made me sad because I had so much to offer the world back then too. That hasn’t changed. I just didn’t know it then. And by hiding and trying to be invisible, I denied so many people the chance to get to really know me. I denied myself the chance to let people get to know me and see all of the awesome qualities and abilities I have.

The physical fades for all of us anyway—disabled or not. Even if you choose to get filler and facelifts ‘til the sun comes up, we all still age. We’re never going to look like we did in 20s and 30s. Our bodies (and minds) change. I feel much more beautiful now but that still can’t be the only source of my confidence because I’ll always be chasing it then. It has to come from knowing deep down that we have so much to offer the world. That we’re kind, compassionate, funny, dependable, reliable, strong, innovative…whatever the combo of your fantastic traits may be.

Don’t let society or anyone else dictate how you’re supposed to feel about yourself. But it’s also ok to say “damn, this is hard”, because it is. Most importantly, keep on shining your beautiful, glowing light out into world. Let yourself be seen and appreciated and appreciate the hell out of yourself too.

❤️☮️