DISABILTY ISN’T RARE - IT’S FAMILIAR

After posting a recent survey, 100% of the 60 respondents shared that they know someone with a disability.

So if disability is supposedly rare, why do so many people know someone like me?

Simple. Disability isn’t rare—it’s familiar.

I remember sitting in my high school honors English class, wondering whether the students behind me were focused on the board and the teacher… or on me and my undeniable—and frankly annoying—tremors. I sat there shaking, as if my body might announce a pop quiz before the teacher ever could.

Looking back, it’s a strange thing to carry at sixteen—the quiet awareness of being noticed not for what I knew, but for how my body moved. And yet, with time and perspective, I’ve realized something freeing: nobody cared in the way I once feared.

Why? Because disability was already familiar to them.

My classmates knew me. They knew my cerebral palsy. So why had I made such a fuss? Because it takes experience, growth, and confidence to understand that being different doesn’t make you disruptive—it makes you human.

When we encounter someone who looks or moves differently, our brains tend to go one of two ways, shaped by our own experiences:
“What’s wrong with that person?” or “Look away—don’t make a fuss.”

Both reactions are completely human. And both lead us back to the same truth: disability isn’t an anomaly. It’s part of everyday life—something we recognize, even if we don’t always know how to respond.

My new perspective is this: I no longer focus on how people perceive my cerebral palsy. I focus on how I want to be perceived. I no longer see cerebral palsy as something rare or defining, but as something familiar—one part of a much bigger picture.

If I want cerebral palsy to stop defining who I am and instead add to what I can accomplish, then it starts with me. Familiarity isn’t about erasing disability—it’s about owning it, normalizing it, and deciding how it shows up in my story.