{"id":71,"date":"2013-07-02T09:00:03","date_gmt":"2013-07-02T14:00:03","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/disabilityinkidlit.wordpress.com\/?p=71"},"modified":"2020-12-09T14:21:05","modified_gmt":"2020-12-09T14:21:05","slug":"kayla-whaley-disability-self-esteem-and-sex","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/disabilityinkidlit.com\/test\/2013\/07\/02\/kayla-whaley-disability-self-esteem-and-sex\/","title":{"rendered":"Disability, Self Esteem, and Sex"},"content":{"rendered":"

This post has been hard for me to write. A lot harder than I expected it to be. I\u2019m not sure why. It might be because I\u2019ve never shared something quite so personal online. Or maybe I was worried no one would care. Or that I would write it poorly. Or some tangled combination of the above. Regardless, I desperately wanted <\/em>to write this post. It felt important. And once I started actually writing, it was freeing.<\/p>\n

(What I\u2019m really saying is it would be accurate to picture me blushing all the way to my fingernails and giggling every time I mention masturbation. Spoiler alert!)<\/p>\n

So, when I was two I was diagnosed with Spinal Muscular Atrophy Type III (a form of Muscular Dystrophy). That same year I was given my first power wheelchair and I\u2019ve used it ever since. I\u2019ve been in it full-time since I stopped walking at six. I\u2019ve literally used a wheelchair longer than I can remember.<\/p>\n

A few years after that in elementary school, I\u2019d spend every summer afternoon with my nana. We\u2019d eat sourdough bread and chunks of cheddar cheese for lunch, then watch The Young and the Restless<\/em> together. This is how I know it was in elementary school I first masturbated with intent (not just rubbing up against pillows like, \u201chuh, that\u2019s fun,\u201d which I also definitely did), because my first fantasy was an extended sex scene from the show.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m telling you this for two reasons: 1) I think it\u2019s hilarious that I was writing erotic Y&R fanfic in my head when I was eight or nine and 2) I\u2019ve had some sense of my sexuality for a long time.<\/p>\n

That early experience of \u201csexual awakening\u201d or whatever was pleasant and only a little confusing. I didn\u2019t think much about it. I didn\u2019t even know what sex was, not really. Once at recess, some classmates asked if I did. I, being the know-it-all I am was, said, \u201cYeah, of course.\u201d They pressed for a definition. So I made an educated guess: \u201cIt\u2019s when two people are naked and they kiss.\u201d<\/p>\n

As I got older I gathered that \u201ctouching myself\u201d was shameful and I became ashamed. I realize that\u2019s not a unique occurrence. Masturbation (and sexuality in general), particularly for girls, is widely stigmatized. But on top of that stigma, I had this body that was utterly different from the bodies around me. It was different and therefore wrong<\/em>. As early as middle school I\u2019d figured out that my body was worth less than others\u2019. It felt like more than that though.<\/p>\n

My body felt wholly worthless<\/em>.<\/p>\n

Even when I\u2019d look in the mirror and think I looked passable, or even good. Even at prom, when I thought I looked gorgeous (not a word I used lightly with myself), it was hard to imagine anyone else would think so. It was impossible to imagine anyone finding me desirable. Impossible to imagine anyone looking at me and being physically attracted to me.<\/p>\n

It didn\u2019t help that no one (that I know of) did.<\/p>\n

At the same time, I still fantasized and had fun on my own (though that got more logistically difficult as I got older and my range of motion decreased). Of course, I still felt massively ashamed about it, which sucked. I remember watching some show where the character started hearing peoples\u2019 thoughts. I went, \u201cThat would be awful<\/em>. What if someone heard me thinking about sex<\/em>?\u201d It\u2019s a silly example but I was truly terrified someone was going to figure me out, somehow. Since no one else expected me to be sexual, to have sexual desires, to act in a sexual way, when I did I felt like a fraud. Like I was a deluded kid playing at something explicitly not meant for me.<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t until late in college that things started to change. But I have to share two specific experiences to show you how <\/em>that change began. It\u2019s one of those \u201cgets worse before it gets better\u201d deals.<\/p>\n

My freshman year, I fell pretty quickly for one of my best friends. I knew he didn\u2019t like me, but I couldn\u2019t help hoping. This was college after all. Anything could happen! (Cue Ellie Goulding). I mean, all those late nights\/early mornings in his room, drinking root beer, playing Mortal Kombat. Maybe miracles did happen, right?<\/p>\n

One night, a group of us had gone dancing. After, he complained the night wasn\u2019t as fun as it could have been. I asked why.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe ratio was off,\u201d he said. The other guys in the group all nodded. \u201cFour guys and three girls. The ratio wasn\u2019t balanced.\u201d<\/p>\n

I was a political science major, sure, but I could count to four. And there were definitely four girls.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d he said, when I noted this, \u201cbut you don\u2019t count.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was the first time anyone had ever voiced what I\u2019d always known and tried to ignore: I didn\u2019t count. Not as a potential partner. Not as a woman. My body was worthless. Something I\u2019d always believed spoken aloud by the boy I was falling for. I\u2019d like to say that I got mad, pissed even, that I called him on his bullshit and demanded the respect I deserved. I didn\u2019t. I let that insidious lie (you\u2019re worthless) bury even deeper into me.<\/p>\n

My sophomore year, I met another boy. We too became fast friends, though I didn\u2019t crush on him. Until one day he said, \u201cYou know, Kayla, if you weren\u2019t in a chair, I\u2019d totally date you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Do you want to know how fucked up my body image was? How completely I\u2019d let society define me and devalue me based on their how they <\/em>viewed my <\/em>body?<\/p>\n

I said, \u201cThat\u2019s the nicest thing anyone\u2019s ever said to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Yeah. That happened. Definitely not my proudest moment.<\/p>\n

There wasn\u2019t a specific moment when I decided to screw society. When I decided it was okay to love my body. When I decided it was important <\/em>to love my body. I\u2019m still working on accepting that someone else someday will love my body too, you know, in a sexual way. Somehow, though, over the couple of years following that awful low point, I changed. I worked deliberately at digging all the traces of that lie (you\u2019re worthless<\/em>) out of me.<\/p>\n

(And my sex life got exponentially better once I bought a vibrator. Eliminated many of those pesky logistical problems. Yay for technology!)<\/p>\n

Now, I\u2019m 23. I\u2019m still a virgin. I\u2019ve still never been kissed. I still haven\u2019t met anyone who\u2019s interested in me romantically\/physically. But it doesn\u2019t matter quite as much anymore. I\u2019ve come to accept my sexuality as a legitimate, important part of my life regardless of what others expect. Maybe even especially because <\/em>of what others expect (call it my rebellious streak).<\/p>\n

I love my body. It\u2019s not an infallible love yet, but it\u2019s growing and it\u2019s not contingent on anyone else. Perhaps most importantly, though, I\u2019ve learned that I\u2019m worthy<\/em>, not in spite of my chair or of my body, but including them.<\/p>\n

The whole of me is worthy.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Masturbation (and sexuality in general), particularly for girls, is widely stigmatized. But on top of that stigma, I had this body that was utterly different from the bodies around me. It was different and therefore wrong<\/em>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":19,"featured_media":1458,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_generate-full-width-content":"","kt_blocks_editor_width":""},"categories":[57],"tags":[58],"genre":[],"age_category":[],"disability":[59,60],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/disabilityinkidlit.com\/test\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/71"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/disabilityinkidlit.com\/test\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/disabilityinkidlit.com\/test\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/disabilityinkidlit.com\/test\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/19"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/disabilityinkidlit.com\/test\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=71"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/disabilityinkidlit.com\/test\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/71\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7075,"href":"https:\/\/disabilityinkidlit.com\/test\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/71\/revisions\/7075"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/disabilityinkidlit.com\/test\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1458"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/disabilityinkidlit.com\/test\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=71"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/disabilityinkidlit.com\/test\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=71"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/disabilityinkidlit.com\/test\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=71"},{"taxonomy":"genre","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/disabilityinkidlit.com\/test\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/genre?post=71"},{"taxonomy":"age_category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/disabilityinkidlit.com\/test\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/age_category?post=71"},{"taxonomy":"disability","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/disabilityinkidlit.com\/test\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/disability?post=71"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}