It happened again.
In a shop, minding our business — until a glance, a look, a sigh, or worse, a comment: “Aren’t you going to help your mom?”
As if my daughter were failing some sort of moral test by… letting me be? (In this case, tapping a bank card on a card machine!!!)
Let me be very clear:
My daughter does not ignore me.
She respects me.
She doesn’t leap to assist me without invitation, because she was raised to see her mother — disabled or not — as a full, capable, independent adult woman.
She doesn’t patronize me by assuming I need help just because I do things differently.
She doesn’t strip me of my autonomy for the comfort of strangers.
She waits.
She watches.
She trusts that if I need something, I’ll ask — and when I do, she shows up without hesitation, without pity, without condescension.
And I am so grateful and proud of her for that.
But let’s talk about what really bothers me. Because when a shop attendant (or random stranger) judges my daughter – or one of my loved ones – for not “helping” me, they’re not just insulting her. They’re insulting me.
They are saying:
“You look like someone who can’t manage without help.”
“You should be relying on others.”
“You need someone to step in, even if you haven’t asked for it.”
They’re making assumptions — not just about my body, but about my value, my agency, my worth.
That’s not help.
That’s erasure.
I am disabled. That is not a tragedy. That is not a cue for charity. That is not a signal for people to jump in and take over.
It simply means I do some things differently, and I know my own limits. And more importantly, I know my own strength. My daughter knows it too — because she’s grown up seeing it in action.
So no, she’s not rude.
She’s not lazy.
She’s not neglecting her “duties.”
She’s honouring the woman who raised her to see disability not as weakness, but as a different way of being in the world.
Concern for me... or your discomfort?
Next time you’re tempted to jump to conclusions, stop and ask yourself:
Are you really concerned for my well-being? OR…
Are you uncomfortable with the fact that I don’t fit your idea of what disability — or parenting — is supposed to look like?
My daughter doesn’t need your judgment. In fact, none of my supporters – those who really know me – need it.
And I don’t need your assumptions.
We’re good, thanks.
Wanda, not just in being disabled. When we get older, we still need to be able to dobour own thing, even if it takes us a bit longer, and we do it differently to what we used to, we still need to be allowed to try and do it ourselves. As difficult it may be for our children or loved ones to be on the outside looking in, they will always be there to assist when asked.
You have amazing children and an amazing family. Stay as amazing as you have been all these years.
Veronica 100% agree! No matter how long it takes a person, their individuality and independence deserve respect and understanding. We are so blessed to be surrounded by loved ones, including family and friends who “allow” (said very carefully!) us to be who we are, no matter how we go about our day!
Altyd trots op jou xxx