ableism

I first went on disability when I lived in Rochester, New York.

I first went on disability when I lived in Rochester, New York.

It’s supposed to imply that I can do a lot of stuff even while I’m sick, but what it actually means is “not dying yet.” Because that is the actual definition of functioning: existing. Breathing in and out, eating, talking, and — especially if you live in America — generating some form of income.

In my role as a sex worker who sees clients with disabilities, I find I’m constantly learning about clear communication.

In my role as a sex worker who sees clients with disabilities, I find I’m constantly learning about clear communication.

I’ve been mentally ill pretty much my whole entire life, and it isn’t something I see going away any time soon. I don’t see that as an inherently bad thing.

Showing up to occupy physical space isn’t the only way to care about the world, so why do we seem to think it is?

When you mumble, I think you don’t really care about what you have to say or I’m not important enough to hear you. Is it shyness? Is it laziness? Is it apathy? Have you forgotten how to speak properly because of your reliance on texting? Whatever it is, it has to STOP. Low-talkers, I’m looking at you, too.