Member-only story
Don’t Make Me Your Inspiration
I almost made it through an all-day conference of women without someone telling me I was an inspiration.
One hundred and thirty women spent the day together sharing stories, delving deep within ourselves, meditating, writing, celebrating, and tuning into our bodies.
I was the only who used a wheelchair.
When it came time for meditative movement, the instructor told me not to worry. I could fully participate in her session. For an hour and a half I twirled, “walked”, danced and connected seamlessly with the group. By the end of the seminar I was an integral part of the collective. A true sense of belonging overwhelmed me. I felt accepted and loved just for being me. I inhabited the stratosphere.
Just as we were all leaving for the day, a woman I had not seen before, who never had interacted with me, singled me out and said, “You are such an inspiration.
She probably thought her words supportive. But those five words broke the spell, pushed me off the clouds, and tumbled me back into the bleak reality of Other.
