From inaccessible bathrooms to weird looks, drinking with your friends at a pub isn't such a piece of cake. Since I started this column six months ago, I've written on sex and disability issues ranging from paying for a sex surrogate to how much winter sucks when you have a disability. By sharing my stories with you, I've been able to better manage some of my fears, but one of my biggest ongoing hurdles is being social—in particular, going out to bars.
Fear of judgment by others is common among me and my fellow disabled friends. Even people who are otherwise well-meaning can inadvertently offend with their assumptions. "You're doing a lot of stuff," someone will inevitably say to me when I'm out. "That's really great. You're writing for VICE? I didn't know people with disabilities did that. Good to see you out." But where am I supposed to be? Am I supposed to be, like, in a closet, hanging out, wasting the day and my life? Just because I have a disability doesn't mean I don't want to have experiences. Things may take a little longer, but who gives a shit? I know they mean well, but it's hard to deal with.

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