In the last few years I have learned to adapt my life to my disability. I have also learned that a person is not measured by what they can't do, but what they can or try to do.

People often tell me that I don't act like I have a disability. Maybe it's because I don't let my disability define me. I do what I can, accept that there are things I cannot do, and try to live as normal a life as possible.

Sometimes though, my attitude about life and my disability can be more disabling than the fibromyalgia and arthritis that I am afflicted with.

A while ago, I had gone to the grocery store. Although my day had been relatively pain free, I decided that it would be best if I parked in a handicapped space since shopping can tend to tire me out.

As I was getting out of my car, a woman approached me. For some reason she looked angry. It didn't take long for me to find out that my first impression was
right and why.

"Why are you parked in that space? It's for the disabled".

I consider myself a polite person, and I was raised to be respectful to everyone. Keeping this in mind, I forced a smile and replied, "Yes, I know".

"Well, if you know then why are you being lazy and using a space you have no right to use? I should call the cops and have your car towed!"

As if on cue, a police cruiser drove by.

The woman practically jumped in front of the cruiser. "Officer! Can you make this woman move from this space? She shouldn't be parked there!"

The officer looked at the woman and smiled. "Well, if she doesn't have the right to park there, then my wife doesn't either." Turning to me, the officer said, "Looks like you are having a good day today Kim. You look better than the last time I saw you."

"I am having a good day Mike, thanks. How's Marilyn?"

"She was going to try and walk on the treadmill this afternoon."

"Good for her...it should help the stiffening in her joints..make sure she doesn't overdo it."

"Will do..and you take care of yourself too," Mike replied. As he started to drive away, the woman yelled, "Well aren't you going to do something about her parking in this space? Look at her! She's not handicapped!"

Mike gave the woman a weary look. "She is well within her rights to park in that space. Have a nice day!" then he drove off.

I turned my attention back to the woman. "Well, if you don't mind, I have some shopping to do," I walked past the woman toward the store.

"Well, you don't look disabled," she retorted.

Under my breath I mumbled, "That's funny...you don't look ignorant..."

While I shopped, I kept thinking about the incident with the woman in the parking lot. What if I had not known the officer that she stopped? He probably would have attempted to give me a ticket and accused me of stealing a handicapped placard from a poor handicapped person. I've endured that accusation before, which is why I always carry my medical papers and the approval letter I received when I received my sticker.

This of course does not keep me from becoming frustrated with people who assume that just because I look healthy and "normal" that I'm not disabled.

When my doctor gave me my diagnosis seven years ago, I forgot to ask what I was supposed to look like. I guess I also forgot that I was supposed to wear a "Hello! My name is Kim and I am disabled" name tag everywhere I went.

What exactly am I supposed to look like? How am I supposed to act? Am I supposed to be in a wheelchair? Am I supposed to sit in doorways or stand on a highway off-ramp with a cardboard sign saying things such as "disabled housewife...please clean my house?"..would that qualify me? Or maybe I am supposed to have a "poor me" attitude and expect everyone to feel sorry for me. Would that help you to identify me?

Not gonna happen. I'm not looking for pity or special treatment, I simply want to live my life as comfortably as I can, and sometimes that means I have to use the services that my tax dollars have paid for.

Yes, I said my tax dollars. I paid into Social Security, therefore I should be entitled to collect heaven forbid, when or if that time comes, whether I look disabled or not.

Which leads me to my next point. I can't collect disability because I look "healthy" and now thanks to the latest Supreme Court ruling, since I actually brush my teeth, vacuum my house and plant a flower once in a while, I'm most likely not disabled at all. So, all this medicine I take and pay for...are they placebos? Is the aching and all the pain I endure on a daily basis a figment of my imagination?

Again I am faced with kowtowing to society's description of being disabled, or keeping my approach to life and dealing the best I know how. I'm sure by now, you all realize that I will do the latter, but I truly wish for the day when I can be myself, and still get the services I need without ridicule, questions, and red tape.

KA Francis is a freelance writer whose articles have appeared in both print and online publications. She writes a weekly humor column, Moments of Clarity, and is the Editor of The Flowing Quill, an Ezine for writers. When she's not slaving away on her writing career, KA enjoys spending time with her husband Lewis, daughter Taylor, Indian loom beading, and refereeing battles between her four gray cats and black psycho dog.

You can read more of KA's articles here:

The Einkwell - Moments of ClarityÝ - My Weekly Column

TheFlowingQuill - An Ezine for Writers

TheClassicQuill - My Day Job

KA Francis

Editors Note: Reach Out would like to gratefully thank KA Francis for this wonderful article. I know many people can relate well to this article. KA Francis is a frequent writer for Reach Out and a contributing Editor