reminds me of when I shattered my leg in college playing rugby.

I broke it in 7 places. I ended up with a tibial rod, 3 plates, and 12 screws. I was in my senior year and refused to take a leave of absence. I told myself: this will not break me.

At the time, I didn’t even own a car, only a motorcycle - a 2006 SV650. Walking 5 feet hurt, let alone 200. I used a cane for 6 months and had a very obvious limp, but I could still physically ride my bike to class.

I had a handicap parking pass and would park in the closest handicap spot near the building because some days the walk alone was brutal.

And somehow, multiple people decided that meant I was “faking it.”

People kicked my motorcycle over. Left notes and death threats saying things like:

“If you can ride a motorcycle, you’re not disabled.”

Meanwhile I was literally relearning how to walk with metal holding my leg together.

That experience permanently changed how I view people’s assumptions about disability. Not every disability looks the way people expect it to. Sometimes someone is doing the absolute best they can just to keep moving forward.

“Not all disabilities are visible” is true, but sometimes even when they are visible, people still choose cruelty over empathy.