When Disabled People Attack Other Disabled People
Over the past few months, I have noticed something that has really started to bother me.
There seems to be an increasing amount of anger towards disabled people.
Most of it comes from people who are not disabled. We have all seen the comments about people who supposedly look perfectly healthy, people who use a disabled parking space, people who use a wheelchair, people who receive benefits or people who need additional support.
But recently I have started noticing something that I find even more upsetting.
Disabled people attacking other disabled people.
It seems to have become a strange competition over who is disabled enough.
Who has the right disability?
Who was born disabled?
Who became disabled later in life?
Who needs a wheelchair?
Who can walk?
Who has a Blue Badge?
Who looks disabled?
It is almost as though some people have decided that there is a hierarchy of disability and they have appointed themselves as the people who get to decide where everyone else belongs.
As someone living with ME/CFS and fibromyalgia, I find this incredibly frustrating because one of the hardest things about living with a condition that other people cannot see is constantly having to deal with assumptions.
I should not have to prove that I am ill enough to deserve understanding.
Neither should anyone else.
There is no such thing as looking disabled
One of the comments I see again and again is, "You don't look disabled."
I know that many people say this without meaning to be unkind, but it can be incredibly frustrating.
What exactly is a disabled person supposed to look like?
There is no single disabled appearance.
Some disabled people use wheelchairs all the time. Some use them occasionally. Some can walk short distances but cannot manage longer distances. Some people use walking sticks. Some use mobility scooters. Some need assistance in certain environments but not others.
Some disabilities are visible.
Many are not.
I can have a day where I look completely fine to somebody walking past me in a supermarket and still be struggling enormously with fatigue, pain, brain fog and the physical consequences of doing more than my body can cope with.
That is the reality of living with ME/CFS and fibromyalgia.
Looking well does not automatically mean feeling well.
Being able to smile does not mean I am not struggling.
Being able to walk into a shop does not mean I can stand in a queue for half an hour.
Being able to get out of a car does not mean I do not need the disabled parking space.
Being able to walk a short distance does not tell you what happens afterwards.
That last part is something I wish more people understood.
Disability is not a competition
I have seen conversations where disabled people seem to compete over who needs something more.
I understand that frustration.
If you are waiting for a wheelchair at an airport and there are none available, I can understand being upset. If you have been waiting a long time and you are exhausted, frightened or in pain, I can understand feeling angry.
But being frustrated with a system is very different from deciding that another disabled person is not entitled to support because they do not look as though they need it.
I recently saw a discussion on Reddit about people using wheelchairs at an airport.
The person posting was angry because they had needed a wheelchair and apparently there were not enough available. They described seeing people get out of wheelchairs and jog away.
Their conclusion was that those people must not have been disabled and were taking wheelchairs away from people who really needed them.
Except there is a massive problem with that assumption.
You do not know their circumstances.
They could have been travelling as a group.
They could have a condition that makes standing and walking through an airport incredibly difficult.
They could be able to walk for a short distance but be unable to safely stand in a queue.
They could be experiencing severe pain.
They could be exhausted.
They could have ME/CFS.
They could have another invisible disability.
They could simply have been using a wheelchair because, at that particular moment, they needed one.
The fact that somebody can get out of a wheelchair and walk does not automatically mean they have been pretending to be disabled.
This is something I think we really need to get better at understanding.
It hurts more when the judgement comes from another disabled person
I think one of the reasons this has started to bother me so much is because, when the judgement comes from another disabled person, it can hurt in a completely different way.
They understand.
They know what it is like to live with a disability.
They know what it is like to have a difficult day.
They know what it is like to have people stare, question you, make assumptions or tell you that you do not look ill.
They know what it is like to have your life changed by your health.
They know how frustrating accessibility can be.
They know how exhausting it can be to constantly explain yourself.
That is why it can feel particularly painful when another disabled person turns around and does exactly the same thing to you.
I think there is an expectation that, because we have some of these experiences in common, there should be a little more understanding between us.
Of course, our disabilities can be completely different. Our symptoms can be different. Our needs can be different. Our experiences of becoming disabled can be completely different.
But there is still that shared understanding of what it means to live in a world that is not always designed with disabled people in mind.
So when someone who understands those struggles decides that you cannot possibly be disabled because you look well, or because you can walk, or because you were not born disabled, it can feel like a real kick in the teeth.
They know how hurtful those assumptions can be because they have probably experienced them themselves.
That is what I find difficult to understand.
Why would we want to make another disabled person feel the same way that we complain about feeling ourselves?
I would never want somebody with a different disability to have to prove their illness to me.
I do not need to know their diagnosis.
I do not need to know how long they have been disabled.
I do not need to know whether they were born with their disability or became disabled later.
I certainly do not need to decide whether they are "disabled enough."
I know what it is like to have people make assumptions about my health based on what they can see.
Living with ME/CFS and fibromyalgia has taught me that what someone can see from the outside tells them very little about what is actually happening inside someone's body.
So I would rather offer another disabled person the understanding that I would hope they would offer me.
Because we already know how difficult life with a disability can be.
We already know that one person's disability does not look the same as another person's.
We already know that some days are easier than others.
We already know that somebody can look well and still be struggling.
We should not have to turn against each other to prove whose experience is more valid.
There is no reason for my disability to take anything away from yours.
Your disability does not make mine less real.
Your needs do not cancel out mine.
And mine do not cancel out yours.
We can both need accessibility.
We can both need support.
We can both have completely different experiences and still show each other some compassion.
For me, that is what solidarity should look like.
Not pretending that every disabled person has the same experience, but understanding that none of us has the right to decide that somebody else's disability is less valid simply because it looks different from our own.
A wheelchair does not always mean someone cannot walk
This seems like such a simple thing, but it is something that repeatedly causes arguments.
A wheelchair can be a mobility aid.
It does not have to mean that somebody is completely unable to walk.
Someone might be able to walk around their home but need a wheelchair for a day out.
Someone might be able to walk from their car into a building but not manage walking around that building for several hours.
Someone might be able to walk but struggle enormously with standing.
Someone might use a wheelchair because walking causes a significant increase in their symptoms.
Someone might use one occasionally.
Someone might use one every day.
None of those situations makes someone less disabled.
I think sometimes people forget that mobility aids are there to help people participate in life.
They are not a test that disabled people have to pass.
The disabled parking space argument
The same thing happens with disabled parking spaces.
I have seen people become incredibly angry when somebody gets out of a car after parking in a disabled bay.
They look at the person and decide they are not disabled.
Sometimes they shout.
Sometimes they make comments.
Sometimes they photograph people.
Sometimes they post about them online.
Then the person produces a Blue Badge and suddenly the assumptions disappear.
But even before seeing the Blue Badge, why were we assuming anything?
Not every disability is immediately obvious.
A person may have severe pain.
They may have a neurological condition.
They may have a heart or respiratory condition.
They may have ME/CFS.
They may have a condition that makes walking from the far end of a car park incredibly difficult.
They may need to conserve their energy because getting from the car to the building is only one small part of their day.
There are so many reasons someone may legitimately need accessible parking.
A disabled parking space is not reserved only for people who visibly look disabled.
I have had to learn that disability can be incredibly unpredictable
Living with ME/CFS and fibromyalgia has taught me that my own abilities can change.
There are days when I can do more.
There are days when I can do very little.
There are days when something that seems incredibly ordinary to somebody else can take a huge amount of energy.
That unpredictability is one of the things I find difficult to explain.
People like consistency.
They like things to make sense.
If I can do something today, they assume I should be able to do it tomorrow.
If I managed something last week, they wonder why I cannot manage it today.
If they see me doing something they think I should not be able to do, they question whether I am really disabled.
But that is not how chronic illness works.
My body does not operate according to somebody else's expectations.
I have to listen to what my body is telling me.
Sometimes that means resting.
Sometimes that means changing plans.
Sometimes that means using mobility support.
Sometimes that means doing something and then paying for it afterwards.
This is why I think judging another disabled person based on one tiny snapshot of their life is so unfair.
You are seeing seconds.
You are not seeing their entire day.
Being born disabled does not make someone more entitled to judge
Another attitude I have started seeing more often is the idea that people who were born disabled somehow have more right to speak about disability than people who became disabled later.
I really struggle with this.
Being born with a disability is obviously a completely different life experience from becoming disabled later.
I would never pretend those experiences are identical.
They are not.
But becoming disabled later in life does not make someone's disability less real.
It does not make them less deserving of accessibility.
It does not make their pain less important.
It does not mean they understand less about being disabled simply because they did not grow up disabled.
Disability is not something where there is a membership card based on how long you have had it.
I did not choose when my health would change.
I did not decide that I wanted to become someone who had to think carefully about energy, pain, rest and what my body could realistically manage.
I have had to learn a completely different way of living.
That does not make my experience more important than somebody else's.
But it does mean that I deserve the same basic respect.
We should be fighting the barriers, not each other
This is probably the part that makes me saddest.
Because disabled people already have enough to deal with.
We deal with inaccessible buildings.
We deal with inaccessible transport.
We deal with people questioning us.
We deal with having to explain ourselves.
We deal with paperwork.
We deal with assumptions.
We deal with people who think disability should always be visible.
We deal with people who think being able to do one thing means we should be able to do everything.
We deal with a world that often feels designed around people who have unlimited energy and predictable health.
So why are we turning on each other?
Why are we helping create the exact same judgement that we complain about receiving from everyone else?
I do not want to live in a world where disabled people have to prove that they are disabled enough before another disabled person will believe them.
I want us to be able to say, "I need this," without somebody immediately responding, "Well, I need it more."
There is room for more than one person's needs.
My disability does not have to look like yours
I think this is something I have become increasingly aware of as I have lived with ME/CFS and fibromyalgia.
My experience is mine.
Another person's experience is theirs.
We can both be disabled without having the same symptoms.
We can both need completely different forms of support.
One person may need a wheelchair.
Another may need a Blue Badge.
Another may need a quiet space.
Another may need flexible working.
Another may need help with everyday tasks.
Another may need to spend most of their day resting.
None of these needs cancels out the others.
There is no prize for being the most disabled person in the room.
There is no trophy for suffering the most.
There is no benefit to deciding that somebody else does not deserve support because their disability looks different from yours.
I would rather believe someone than judge them
Maybe that makes me naive.
Maybe there will always be people who take advantage of systems.
Of course there will.
That happens everywhere.
But I do not think the answer is to treat every disabled person with suspicion because a small number of people might misuse something.
I would rather start from a place of compassion.
If somebody is using a wheelchair, I am going to assume there is a reason.
If somebody is parked in a disabled space and displays a Blue Badge, I am going to assume they have a legitimate reason.
If somebody tells me they are struggling with an invisible illness, I am going to believe them.
I do not need to know their medical history.
I do not need proof.
I do not need to decide whether they are disabled enough.
We need solidarity, not a disability hierarchy
I think disabled people have more power when we stand together.
Not because we all have the same experiences.
We absolutely do not.
But because we understand what it is like to live in a world where accessibility is often treated as an inconvenience rather than a necessity.
We understand what it is like to be judged.
We understand what it is like to have our needs questioned.
We understand what it is like to have somebody look at us and make assumptions about what we can and cannot do.
That should make us more compassionate towards each other, not less.
I am not saying that every disabled person has to agree with every other disabled person.
Of course we can disagree.
But there is a huge difference between disagreement and attacking somebody because you have decided they are not disabled enough.
Living with chronic illness has changed how I see other people
Before becoming chronically ill, I probably did not think about accessibility in the same way.
I did not notice everything.
I did not understand how much energy simple things could require.
I did not understand why somebody might need a wheelchair despite being able to walk.
I did not understand why somebody might need a disabled parking space despite looking perfectly healthy.
Living with ME/CFS and fibromyalgia has changed that.
I notice things now.
I notice the stairs.
I notice the distance.
I notice how long somebody has to stand.
I notice whether there is somewhere to sit.
I notice how exhausting certain environments can be.
Most importantly, I have learned that I cannot know what is happening inside somebody else's body simply by looking at them.
That is probably the biggest lesson I would take from all of this.
Disabled people deserve to be believed
I am tired of the idea that disabled people need to prove themselves.
I am tired of the "you don't look disabled" comments.
I am tired of people deciding that somebody walking after using a wheelchair must have been faking.
I am tired of disabled parking spaces becoming an opportunity for strangers to police each other.
I am tired of the idea that someone who became disabled later is somehow less entitled to talk about disability.
Most of all, I am tired of seeing disabled people turn against each other.
There are enough barriers already.
There are enough people who do not understand invisible disabilities.
There are enough people who think chronic illness should have a certain appearance.
We do not need to add another layer of judgement ourselves.
My disability does not have to look like yours for me to understand that you are struggling.
Your disability does not have to look like mine for you to understand that I am struggling.
We can both need help.
We can both deserve accessibility.
We can both deserve kindness.
We can both be disabled.
And perhaps instead of asking whether somebody else is disabled enough, we could start asking why they need the support they are using and simply accept that we might never know the full answer.
Sometimes believing someone costs us nothing.
Sometimes that little bit of understanding can make a difficult day considerably easier.
For me, that is the kind of disability community I want to be part of.
Further reading:
Blue Badge Abuse and Disability Harassment: What To Do If You Are Attacked
About me
I am a married mother of four children. One of those four children is our granddaughter, for whom we are SGO (legal guardians)/kinship carers. I run a small business and enjoy writing, so I blog. My blog focuses on my family life as well as my experiences of living with chronic illnesses and disabilities such as ME/CFS, spinal stenosis, chronic pain, and fibromyalgia. Oh, and I am only in my mid-40s.
Frequently Asked Questions
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Yes. Many disabilities and chronic illnesses are invisible. Someone may look well while living with severe fatigue, pain, brain fog, neurological symptoms or limited mobility. You cannot tell what is happening inside someone’s body simply by looking at them.
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Many wheelchair users can walk or stand for short periods. They may use a wheelchair because walking longer distances, standing in queues or navigating large places such as airports significantly increases their pain, fatigue or other symptoms. Being able to leave a wheelchair and walk does not mean someone was pretending to need it.
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An ambulatory wheelchair user is someone who uses a wheelchair but retains some ability to stand or walk. They may walk around their home or manage short distances while needing a wheelchair for longer journeys, difficult environments or days when their symptoms are worse.
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No. Disabilities, symptoms and support needs can be completely different. One person may need a wheelchair, another may need a Blue Badge, and someone else may need flexible working, somewhere to sit or help with everyday tasks. One person’s needs do not make another person’s disability less valid.
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People with invisible disabilities are often expected to prove that they are ill or disabled enough to receive support. Being questioned, confronted or accused of pretending can be upsetting, humiliating and exhausting. Starting from a place of compassion costs us very little and can make an already difficult day easier.
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Frustration with inaccessible services and limited resources can sometimes be directed at other disabled people. However, being angry with a failing system is different from deciding that another person does not deserve support. We rarely know someone’s diagnosis, symptoms or circumstances from one brief encounter.
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Disability solidarity means recognising that our experiences do not have to be identical for us to support one another. We can have different conditions and different access needs without turning disability into a competition. There is room for all of us to receive understanding, accessibility and respect.
Disability is not a competition. I explore invisible illness, mobility aids and why disabled people deserve compassion, accessibility and solidarity.