While talking to my uncle yesterday morning, I was trying to find the right words to describe why living in my own apartment is so important to me. When you have a disability you often already feel limited in many ways and like you are a burden. What I didn’t say to him was how much those feelings influence how I live my life. They’re not abstract ideas; they are feelings I’ve had for years, and they are part of my day-to-day life.
This mindset started early in life. As a child, I underwent three operations, multiple rounds of Botox and Phenol injections and numerous physical therapy appointments. No matter how uncomfortable I was, I had to endure these procedures. I couldn’t say no, and was told it was for my own good.
In school, I learned to limit my fluid intake just so I wouldn’t have to use the bathroom more. I became an expert at shrinking myself, my needs, my comfort, my voice, because it felt easier than asking for help. Those habits don’t disappear when you turn eighteen. They follow you into adulthood, shaping how you move through the world and how you see yourself.
So when I talk about living in my own apartment and my desire to be more independent, I’m not talking about a luxury or an “extra.” I’m talking about finally feeling like I don’t have to apologize for existing. I can drink water when I’m thirsty, move at my own pace, and make choices without feeling like I’m inconveniencing someone. I don’t feel like a burden.
Independence, for me, isn’t about doing everything alone. It’s about having the dignity to decide how I live, what I need, and how I interact with the world. After years of being told what was “best” for me, having control over my own life is healing in ways that are hard to explain unless you’ve lived it.