Boxes . . .

No matter what the circumstances are, when you find yourself continuously floating between two worlds never being quite being accepted or rejected by either, it can test your resilience, no matter how great your courage. Ultimately it can simply leave you feeling less than whole and at the worst of times utterly and hopelessly alone.

In my personal experience, being registered as ‘severely sight impaired’ or ‘blind’, as a label, box or ‘disability’ (a word I detest for it’s overuse and convenient society-pleasing application), is in direct conflict with how I have chosen to live my life, due in part to society’s own somewhat impaired vision and thoroughly outdated way in which it views how a blind person should be.

As a consequence of being proud to be an anomaly, for 30 odd years I’ve found myself never quite being accepted by either others similar to me or those with regular vision.

I wonder why this aspect of having a difference to the majority or ‘disability’ to use the detested word is something that hardly ever seems to be discussed; if at all. The ‘no-man’s-land’.

On the one hand it is an undeniable compliment when people are genuinely unaware until it may have to be discussed. On the other it can be hideous and on occasion honestly soul-destroying when people accuse you of being a fraud and a fake and ‘putting it on’!?

My eye-sight may be impaired but my vision is not! Not fitting a stereotype or a convenient box and conforming to a societal ideal and consequently generating at times negative attention is nothing new. In this circumstance however, my ability to remain passive is itself becoming impaired! It seems increasingly that empathy is no longer an emotional capacity, but a dying art form.

The focus in my experience, has in the main appeared to be on what I may be unable or am actually unable to do. There still seems to be a fixation on a ‘can’t-do’ attitude rather than ‘can-do’. Subsequently I believe this contributes to the outdated stereotype of being blind and in turn when you don’t appear to fit this box, you are simply therefore a ‘fraud’.

After nearly 19 years in full time education, with all its associated challenges and possibly a few extra in my case, I jumped through these traditional hoops with a fair amount of success and collected all the relevant pieces of paper to show for it. Following this I’ve also been blessed enough to acquire further and more colourful skills in music, fencing, riding and dance to name a few.

However, this has all come with a cost. Knowing always that seeded amongst all the incredible love, support and encouragement from so many, there are those that would and will continue to evoke the spectre of that stereotype. The almost bitter ‘well you’re not really blind then are you?!’ comment. It steals and degrades any sense of pride. It erodes self-worth and most soul-destroying of all is the crippling sense of guilt. You find yourself smiling calmly and ignoring it outwardly and yet screaming inside “Where. Do. I. Fit?!” With a condition that is degenerative this is doubly painful. I’ve always lived with the attitude of ‘do it NOW!’ That’s not to say I couldn’t find ways to continue or try new things with no sight, but the little I have left is so precious and not to push this gift to its limits and respect it while it remains, to me seems a crime. And yet the crime appears to be being different from said societal ideal.

Forgive me for pointing out the obvious, but I am literally in all but a few exceptions blind to ‘disability’. I can’t usually physically ‘see’ if someone is ‘disabled’. To me, they are a unique person.

My name is Ruth, I am a person and I am not defined by my level of sight. Just like you, I am defined by one common ground that unites every single one of us; my difference. Don’t put me in a box!

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Birmingham International 26/03/2016

First fencing competition of 2016 and it feels like a lifetime since my last (the Welsh in November) and like yesterday at the same time.
The venue itself was easy enough to find – and no arguments with doors! Fascinatingly, the sports complex is like a maze over two floors!

Unfazed – I’ve begun to find this initial part of a previously un-entered competition almost a calming ‘ritual’ now – I use it as part of the adrenaline-build. The organisers were absolutely fantastic, one of them extremely kindly walked me round the entire venue, showing me all the halls I may be fencing in and giving me time to make all-important landmarks with colours, numbers of steps, counting doors etc.
Playlist firmly plugged into ears in a relatively deserted hall, both myself and a close friend simultaneously warm up. Unspoken language between me not ‘seeing’ and neither of us hearing over headphones, superstitions, rituals and thought processes begin. And of course the dark chocolate, for me at least!

It’s fluent this time, no waiting and before I could think about last minute tape or where the Allen key is I’m plugged in. Weirdly, the first time I’ve not had nerves and actually found myself wanting, needing more adrenaline. Although in some ways an advantage, the measured aggression needed just wouldn’t materialise.

The poules flew – overall, I achieved more in points than the Bristol Open which was a similar level event, but for my personal standards and aims I was pretty unsatisfied with my fencing and determined to give the DE my all. And did!
No medals this time again, but achieving a point more than at Bristol was something to take home. Along with a wealth of experience than can only be gained from doing.

Within 24 hours of being home, I’ve stuck to my promise to myself and between a mixture of the “what an Earth am I doing??!” and the “just do it!” I’ve entered the British National Championships this April and as I waited for the page to load with the foil entries, even just seeing my name there gave me butterflies!

So, next stop, London 16/04/16.

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