Sunday, February 1, 2015

Dressing While Disabled (And Agender)

#DressingWhileDisabled (And Agender)


I hop. And fall into a chair. My dyspraxia is not good for full body movements in contained areas. I try to tug on the socks. I have to go sit on my bed.


I have weak ankles, and I don't want to try wearing heels, I say.

Fair enough, the friend responds.

I do have weak ankles. I sprained each one twice before I was 12 years old, running around and climbing things like the autistic kids you see in the alarmist documentaries (well, because I'm autistic. I did things like that. Unsurprisingly, I was like a lot of the autistic kids you see in the alarmist documentaries or the parents insisting us activists are too high functioning to understand).

But I also don't say: I don't think I could balance. I think I'd fall. I'd embarrass myself.


Recently, I've undone enough of my internalized fear of dressing nicely or fashionably-ish because that's how the people who bullied me in middle school and high school dressed like, and also undone the notion that to be nonbinary and agender, you can't wear gendered clothes.

I used to say that, as I walked around in “guy” jeans.

I tried on a dress in Target yesterday, because it felt sensory friendly and floaty. I realized this after wearing a nightshirt for the first time.


But I lack the executive functioning to remember how to fashion myself appropriately. I fall down over my shoelaces because I lack the coordination to tie them effectively, or forget to even try. I cannot remember to go buy the clothes. It took an entire winter to realize I didn't have enough long pants, and that's why I needed to do laundry so often.

Which, by the way, is hard. Laundry is hard.

I emailed my mother. I need sweatpants. Can you take me to Target?

We went to Target and bought sweatpants.


Sometimes, it's not an Autistic thing. I have anxiety and various mood things. It can be hard to roll out of bed and put on clothes effectively, or brush my hair, or tie my shoes, as I bump into a chair and swear groggily.


I am Autistic, and dressing while disabled can involve so many steps I forget to do all of them.

I don't mind, to be honest.

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