Building and maintaining life-long meaningful friendships can be very challenging for some individuals, but that issue is further exacerbated when you are a differently-abled individual. As a physically disabled person, I have found it challenging to make new friendships, especially as I grew older, because you don’t know the intentions of their friendship. They might be your friend because they feel sorry for you, or on the other hand, they might want to be your genuine friend, and determining that can be very difficult and is something that those of us wheelchair users struggle with. Some people don’t know how to interact with us, further complicating a genuine human interaction. I felt this acutely going into college since I no longer had the security of an assistant who knew my personality intimately.
I never needed assistance with social interaction, but it was a little daunting because I was in an environment where making friends wasn’t easy. Growing up, I had primarily non-disabled friends because I was always in a general education classroom throughout my formative years. The truth is that I never really struggled to make friends when I was younger because my last friend group was from my childhood. But here was a group of people who did not know anything about me, who didn’t know my worth. All they saw was a person in a wheelchair. I also find it difficult because I am more mentally mature than my peers due to my life experiences and struggles as a differently-abled person. Most adults do not know how to interact with a physically disabled person. For me, that was my biggest struggle.
However, I was fortunate to meet with someone that, due to his life experiences and years of volunteering at a summer camp for adults with disabilities, knew how to treat me and became my friend. His name is Tim. Tim’s and my relationship is meaningful because he views my disability as a part of me. We first met at USC during the welcome week of our freshman year. I was admitted as a spring admit. I was there in the Fall because I wanted to see what the campus was like, and he was here and about to start.
From the moment that he turned around and started having a conversation with me, we instantly clicked. I knew from that moment on that he would become my friend. Keep in mind that I had no idea at that time he had this connection with the differently-abled community. Later in our friendship, he came to my fundraising events, where I was a public speaker on behalf of the Bud Kuhl Wood Bat Invitational. This fundraiser continues to help fund one of the therapy centers I went to as a kid, formerly known as United Cerebral Palsy of Orange County. He helped me through tough times. One day, I was sitting with him at one of our residential dining halls, and I told him, “You’re the first friend that I can truly say that I feel normal around.”
Because for me, I’ve always had my mother or just somebody there, not necessarily to facilitate but to be like a bodyguard. As a kid, you don’t realize how sheltered you are as a differently-abled person. College was the first time I could be fully autonomous with my decisions because even during my formal education, I always had teachers surrounding and sheltering me. Of course, teachers are there to protect and teach us right from wrong, but I was even more sheltered because I am a differently-abled individual.
To this day, Tim and my relationship feels like the first authentic friendship I have had with a non-disabled person. Throughout our friendship, we have been able to confide in each other; I was able to help him through his moments of anxiety, and he was able to help me through mine. One of the most meaningful moments we shared where he helped me emotionally was one day I called him because I was facing a moment of anxiety and doubt. I don’t remember the context exactly, but I remember telling him, “I don’t know if I’m good enough.” And he told me straight up, “That sounds stupid.” You might think that is rude, but I appreciated his candor because he told me, “Look how far you’ve come.” And honestly, in that moment, I forgot to think that way. I have so many stories like that with him, and that’s why it’s meaningful to me. At the end of this particular phone call, he said I love you before he ended the call. I needed to hear that because I was about to break down.
While Tim was a student, we got lunch nonstop. He was comfortable taking me to the restroom when my assistant was unavailable. Tim always makes me feel normal and appreciated. He is the one that taught me to say, “I love you,” at the end of every human interaction because it matters. One of the most meaningful things Tim did for me was during his final semester in college; it was my birthday. Despite his exam the next day, he came and spent time with me even though he had just finished a group project and was about to leave for New Jersey in a couple of weeks. I’ve never had someone do something like that for me. It illustrates the fact that he views me as a genuine friend. Yes, it’s a small gesture, but to me, it meant the world. I even told him, “You don’t have to come if you’re busy,” but he told me, “I’m coming,” and that meant the world.
In one of our subsequent conversations, I said to him, “You don’t give a fuck about my disability, do you?” And his answer was, “Of course not.” Tim taught me to be authentically myself and not give a shit about my diagnosis or what other people think about me. While this has always been my attitude from a very young age, I lost it as a university student. What’s funny is Tim has absolutely no filters and tells me things as it is. He’ll sometimes ask me if I want to drink, and we talk about wildly inappropriate things that drive me a little bonkers. He even asked me if I could have sex and questions that the ordinary person would not necessarily ask, but that’s what I like about him because he truly is genuine.
I know this type of friendship is hard to come by or virtually impossible for some differently-abled people due to developmental or physical limitations. Still, for those of us who are, our story can serve as an example of what is possible when we step out of our comfort zones. We are all different, so let’s embrace that. And the truth of the matter is Tim is not an exceptional case. We can all be like him if we put our guard down, see into the core of that differently-abled person, and say, “You’re just like me.”
Tim and I are a lot more similar than we are different. Our friendship continues to grow to this day and no matter what happens our bond will never break, as illustrated by this one last story. One day, we were sitting outside of the dining hall and I was just going over how he was feeling and talking about his anxiety. He said something I’ll never forget. He said, “I hope I die before you.” That is very morbid and I understand that but it shows his true measure of his friendship. I hope everyone finds a friend like Tim.
This story has been updated with minor edits.