Don’t Wanna be a Yoko

As I sit here writing this, it’s a weird day for me. I was vulnerable for a moment last night (something any of my friends will tell you is not surprising), and this afternoon one of my articles about disability was featured with a prominent media outlet, which prompted several emails from strangers.

And then I cried. One of those cries where once you start, you can’t stop, but you’re so happy and sad all at the same time. I was so happy that people are benefiting from something I wrote, and felt immense pride.

But these same emails also devastated me because they are a reminder of what I am. What I have. What I lack, and that while I have done a fair amount in my life, I still get afraid that I’m not enough or that I can hold (or have held) back the people I love at times. But I think everyone feels this way, at least sometimes?

So it’s with this weird day, and tears still streaming my face an hour later, I can’t stop thinking about this fear that lingers in me. Days like this bring it back, because I often get cocky and forget that I can’t do everything. I can’t do the hike at Yosemite I’ve been looking at, or go to most rooftop parties in Manhattan, or even to most of the cool underground bars. I can’t even live in the city I worked my ass off to move to, because you can’t find a wheelchair accessible apartment in New York City for under $3k a month. Yes, I’m aware how trivial these things are and how privileged I am that I otherwise would have the opportunity to do these things, but I can’t say enough how sorry it makes me that I can’t. And I can’t say enough how much these realities have impacted my romantic relationships, friendships and job prospects.

I have (probably?) the greatest boyfriend in the world. With the exception of being a more picky eater than a 2 year-old with IBS, he’s an incredibly interesting, sweet, outgoing and funny person. Today’s events made me realize just how sad, sorry and scared I am that sometimes I may hold him back from the things and people he enjoys most. Who am I to do that to someone? I can assure you, great tits will get you far, but mine are not nearly enough to make up for all the hikes or comedy shows he may miss because of me.

Some days I could understand why someone would want to ask him, “what the hell are you doing with her.” Which for the record, his best friend basically asked before we went on our first date. When I found out, I sobbed, not because I felt this was mean, but because I understood. Your friends are always going to look out what’s best for you, so of course his friends and family would think about my challenges before they think of my triumphs.

Essentially, without asking, his friend wanted to know: is this girl going to be your Yoko?! And I find myself sometimes asking the same thing, because it would break my heart to see him miss any opportunity because of me.

A Good Relationship

Whether love is romantic, platonic, family, the love for your pet, or anything else, it should at the very least come with a sense of calm and security. But when we fear that we’re not enough, it’s easy to lose the sense of inner calm, which is most important, and impact the sense of security our loved one feels towards us.

These are not new fears for me. I’ve had them as an aunt that my niece would be disappointed by the activities I couldn’t do with her, or that my family has had to miss out on something fun because it wasn’t accessible for me…or had to miss out on a thousand getaways because I couldn’t do some of the planned activities.

And then I remember. A good partnership is not about what you as an individual can’t do but who you are together. Of course you’re going to have those days where you see your significant other run a marathon and you can’t (no offense to my partner, but seriously, kid can’t run a mile), or you create a beautiful piece of artwork, but your friend can’t draw a stick figure. Both of these things have happened.

Each person in the relationship will come to the table with something different. My boyfriend is patient, analytical and adventurous. I’m a great communicator, a good planner, forgiving and (overly) sweet. We both have moments of doubting ourselves, the relationship, and our ability to face stress.

So I guess what I’m saying, is all of these relationships need to, and do, have a balance. My cat provides me with unconditional love, while I provide her with…well, essentially I’m a giant food machine. My friends look to me to plan epic trips while I look to them to push me to be more spontaneous. My family keeps me grounded while I am always there to lend a helpful hand.

It’s not about what we lack, but it’s ok to recognize what you lack. The more important thing, is to know you surround yourself with people that always look at what you can do, and encourage you to do what makes you healthy and happy, no matter what that is. And you should always, always be doing the same, even if it means being extra selfless.

As an update

I’ve stopped crying. I finished the emails from people asking me if they’re deserving of happiness in a relationship because of their disabilities-and was able to tell them unequivocally and without any doubt in my heart, that yes, they are. My guilt and sadness about not living in the city is gone, because it’s trivial. No one should feel sorry for what it is that they have no control over or fear that their limbs make them any less of an equal player for any relationship, be it work, love or other.

Being a Yoko means purposefully pulling people away from the people and things they love, not letting someone flourish and not being a cheerleader to someone’s success.

I will never be a Yoko.