When a Stranger Asked: "What Happened to Make You Handicapped?"

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Back in June of 2016, Tara and I went shopping (to avoid the annual fire alarm testing - as we do - because Startle Reflex and fire alarms don't mix.

"Hey...  Look what's right there," Tara says, as we approach the book display.

I know, by the tone of her voice, it isn't something good.  She points it out - because Place Blindness.  And suddenly, I know why she's not happy.

What she's spotted is a certain book that's quite popular at this time.  One that is strongly celebrated despite its reliance on a harmful trope that people are better off dead than disabled.

"Please take a picture of me holding this," I beg.

"Oh, can I?" Tara asks, happy to document the hideousness we found.

[Image is: The picture Tara took.  I'm holding the book Me Before You in my hands, not smiling]

We continue to browse.  As we do so, I can feel a man unabashedly staring at me as I talk to Tara about another book.  He's not making a secret out of it.  He's STARING.  No doubt about it, moving-to-get-a-better-view, staring.

I ignore him.  (If I get riled up over every person who stares at me in public, I'd have no energy for regular life...)

Then, he speaks:

"Excuse me?  Miss?"

(Here we go, I think, wary, and brace myself.)  "Yes?" I ask.

"What happened to make you handicapped?"

There's a list of ways I want to respond:

1) Make the face at him that I am making in the picture above.  (I'm unsmiling.  It's the epitome of a dubious, "Really?" face.)

2) Tell him, "THAT IS NOT YOUR BUSINESS!"

What actually comes out of my mouth is: "That's...not something I'm talking about right now!"

Then, Tara pushes me away from him, fast.

"I'm sorry for bothering you!" the man calls at our backs.

But it's like, no.  Obviously you're not if you're going to stare at me like it's your JOB and then inquire about my medical history in the rudest way possible.

No, thank you.

Tara and I rant on the way home.  It helps some.

With time and distance, I find I'm proud of myself.  This instance is the first time in my adult life where I did not feel compelled to answer a stranger's invasive question for my own safety.

Growth often happens when we're not looking.

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