We can choose who we become, sometimes… but we can’t choose what happens to us.
The last time I had to use a cane… I didn’t.
I tried it for a couple of weeks, not knowing my left shoulder was hurt as well, and that the pain I was associating with “aid” was valid. Real.
“It hurts me more to walk with the cane then it does to just not put full weight on that foot as I limp around.,” I’d proclaimed to everyone and no one.
But last time… I really failed at it, so for the recovery (which turned out to be a recovery interrupted by another surgery and recovery that didn’t recover me and another after that): I thought I’d motivate myself by cataloging “normal people outfits” at work (then) to get myself OUT the door and prevent myself from feeling tempted to dance. I hoped my joy in budget design and capsule wardrobes would be incentive enough to hold still and grip the stick.
It didn’t work. It sort of worked? It sometimes worked.
But the can-be-caustic, can-be-painful costing of clothing wasn’t enough to make my cane technique smooth. I can’t tell you the amount of times I preferred to cancel plans, hide, and avoid humans altogether than “sometimes use a cane and sometimes not.” (I’m an all or nothing person, which is mostly always not a thing to brag about.)
I, unfortunately, have looked at mobility (and help) through that lens for far too long.
Sometimes I need outfits that make me feel powerful and the accountability of posting them, therein. Or I needed this photoshoot that was for work but felt anything but, while very much needing stability and safety.
I’m not consistently using any aid right now but … What about when or if my back goes out temporarily? Do I stay shuttered inside, my own Shutter Island, working from home… or do I find a way to LIVE as the person I am now?
We can choose who we become, sometimes… but we can’t choose what happens to us.
I have shame around canes. I have shame around things the world sees as silly (like style, even if mine is a uniform at best). I have shame around almost everything that brings me solace…
Shame about the shame, most of all.
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Whenever I read your posts, I can’t believe how much I can relate to you. I have a cane too and feel shame about it. I also had to ride a scooter around at Disneyland because there was no way that I could walk all day. I put it off too but when I was really forced to use my cane during a bad relapse when my proprioception was awful, it helped tremendously. Also, at Disneyland, I started the first day walking, the scooter was in the hotel room…that shame thing. I felt awful and there was no way that I could go the next day without the scooter. I brought it out and felt so much shame, it didn’t last long though. Before I knew it, I was enjoying myself so much more because I felt better. Aids are there to help us get through life easier, once we can get over the shame of needing them (which we really shouldn’t have) they can open the world up for us a bit more.
Shame?!? Never ever feel shame, dear Bailey! The use of a mobility aid just shows me your dedication to live! As far as fashion, anything you wear or don't wear is irrelevant to your astronomical level of beauty! I especially love your comfy "Metalica" t-shirt. ☺️ Please don't hide from us...from me... even when you don't feel beautiful, or in control, or even complete, it doesn't matter to me love. I accept you in whatever way, shape, or condition you're currently in. The woman I fell in love with has a beautiful old soul, something deep inside that, to me, trumps all other things. Never hide Bailey, that would be a genuine loss to the world. 🙏🥰