I wasn’t confident. I didn’t enjoy public speaking or even engaging in group conversations. I was quiet and reserved, not someone you would ever picture standing up in front of a class and sharing about a disability. 

But, over the years, I’ve seen how God can use our weaknesses to bring Him glory. For me, that was through speaking up. 

A few years ago, I shared about my disability in front of my peers during an education class. This class was mostly for those who were studying to be future teachers, but they also opened up to psychology majors who wanted to work with children. I was a psychology major with a concentration in child life. One of my friends convinced me to take this class with her, and I’m glad she did.

However, about halfway through the semester, I began using an electric wheelchair to attend most of my classes. It was a necessary change due to an increase in pain and fatigue levels. I have a progressive neuromuscular disease called CMT. Essentially, the peripheral nerves affected are starting to go numb, and my muscles are atrophying. I didn’t know that I had CMT until I was towards the end of my senior year of high school. It’s not something that any 17 or 18-year-old wants to find out when they are about to face all of these new changes. I’ve been blessed with continued encouragement and support from family and friends. Without them and my faith in God, my life would look very different. 

When I started using a wheelchair to get around my college campus, it was my decision. And I accepted it, until I noticed that others around me were treating me differently. I thought maybe it was because I’m naturally quiet. However, as a few weeks passed, I noticed it had to do with my wheelchair. When I used my wheelchair, it was like I was invisible (even though I wasn’t). 

I decided to reach out to the professor and talk to her about it. She was very supportive, and we decided I would share at the beginning of the next class. I was anxious and worried about stumbling over my words. Public speaking was always a fear of mine, even from a young age. 

As someone who has always come across as quiet, I would be the last person anyone would expect. But, I knew that if I didn’t go up and share about my disability and health challenges, I probably would feel ignored the rest of the semester. 

As I stood up from my electric wheelchair and walked up in front of the class, I noticed that everyone was listening. I shared about my wheelchair and how living with a neuromuscular disease has led me to needing additional help to get to my class. I spoke about how I felt ignored over the previous couple of weeks and how important it is for the future teachers in this class to take note of how others are treated. While most of my peers in that class were future educators, I know that not everyone will have a student with a disability or invisible illness, but some may. And it’s important to recognize that they are still like everyone else, just with a few extra challenges.

I only spoke for a few minutes, but it completely changed the atmosphere for the rest of the semester. Everyone smiled at me, and some nodded in agreement to what I was sharing. I’m grateful to the professor who supported me as I decided to speak up and advocate for students with disabilities. This eventually led to a speaking opportunity a little over a year after graduating from college. I never would have had the confidence if it weren’t for those who encouraged me not to let my pain and limitations define my future.

Looking back at it, I’m sure those who know me didn’t know what to say when I started wearing AFOs (ankle foot orthotics) or using an electric wheelchair. Maybe a friend didn’t want to offend me and say the wrong thing. Unless you work with those who have physical disabilities or an injury, it doesn’t seem as common to see a young person using one. I completely understand. That’s why educating others, especially in the classroom, is so important. It helps to answer questions honestly and to leave room for discussions.  

Before that semester, I didn’t see myself as someone who advocates for those with disabilities. But I’ve learned that it’s not necessary to be the most energetic or confident individual in the room. You just need passion, empathy, understanding, and drive to make a difference. And it doesn’t have to be only by speaking in front of a group of people. Or in my case, a college classroom. It could be through conversations or even sharing through writing.

While there are moments I would rather not live with chronic pain, I know that God will continue using it. It’s helped me to have more compassion and understanding towards those with disabilities. And I wouldn’t want to change that.

I wanted to close with some suggestions on how to be there for a loved one or friend struggling with a disability or chronic pain.

• Don’t be afraid to ask hard questions. If you are worried that you might offend someone you care about by asking about their health challenges or mobility device (eg., a wheelchair), then approach it with gentleness. 
• Listen with compassion, not to fix the problems. If your friend is open about their struggles, it means they trust you. Let the conversation flow and be there to support them. Do not try to fix the circumstance. 
• Keep reaching out. This could be by sending a text message, letter, an encouraging verse or quote, or visiting them if going somewhere is too much. I find comfort in knowing that I’m not forgotten by friends, especially if I’m not able to meet up for a while because of my health. 

Katerina is a dancer, instructor, and writer from California. She has a B.A. in psychology and is passionate about advocating and encouraging those living with chronic illness and disabilities. She enjoys embroidery, spending time with friends, and being outdoors. You can connect with Katerina through her blog, Beauty in the pain and on Instagram.