What does disability look like? This might seem like an absurd question. But here's why it matters to me. Photo: Stocksy

What does disability look like? This might seem like an absurd question.

Unfortunately, there seems to be no shortage of well-meaning punters who claim to know what a person with a disability should look like. I know this, because I have born the brunt of it on several occasions.

It's ironic, because at the age of 12, I received extensive surgery to mask my cerebral palsy; thus allowing me to 'camouflage' more. It hasn't been a complete success, I still get curious glances from strangers – trying to figure me out. I've also had bouncers ask "How much have you had to drink?" before I've even had a sip of alcohol for the evening.

I still have weaker balance and stamina than the average person, I struggle with staircases and don't ask me to go for a jog anytime soon.


But all that aside, I have definitely noticed a difference in how people react to me and my body since the surgery and exhaustive rehabilitation of learning to walk from scratch.

There is an absurd cost that comes with "passing" – that is, you may from time to time have to deal with complete strangers taking it upon themselves to scold you for using elevators, disabled parking spots and ramps. Oh, the stories you'll have to tell your friends!

Like the time you went to catch the train to work and got called "lazy" for using the elevator. Then the same person proceeded to stalk you on the platform and yell obscenities. Oh wait … that happened to me.

Yes, these "do-gooders" come fully equipped to reprimand, intimidate and humiliate those that don't seem 'disabled enough' to use these generous resources. But, in all honesty I find it quite scary that these people truly believe they're doing a good deed. Things can escalate quite quickly.

On another occasion, I pulled my car into a disabled parking space. I placed my permit on the dashboard and before I even had a chance to step out of my car, I noticed an onlooker rolling his eyes and appearing quite displeased with me. I knew what was coming next, so I prepared myself with a calm and assertive response.

"You don't look very disabled, mate"

I smiled at the man and said "Thank you, I've had lots and lots of painful operations."

Needless to say this quickly shut him up. However, it also got me thinking about what was expected of me. Should I have reeled and staggered out of my car? That wouldn't have worked, the man had already decided I wasn't disabled.

Perhaps, I should drive around with my mouth ajar, drooling on myself as much as humanly possible to inform all nearby folk "Yes! I am handicapped."

I've also been told that I'm too "pretty" to be disabled – yes, someone actually said that. I can't win.

Unfortunately, I'm not alone. This is an all too common experience for people with a wide range of disabilities and illnesses. In fact, it's becoming a movement, with pages like Disability parking wall of shame becoming a popular fad. People can post photos of cars (rego included) in disabled spots with a question mark as to whether they're actually disabled.

Tara Anderson, Founder of Enabled Network, has had her share of similar incidents. Originally diagnosed with Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis, which later progressed to Ankylosing Spondylitis. While Anderson doesn't totally oppose such websites; she believes there are smarter, safer ways to address the issue.

"I am worried about the Disability Parking Shame Facebook pages. We are seeing more violence in society and I would not want to see someone hurt for confronting someone that is misusing a disability parking bay."

Anderson suggests a better remedy would be a discreet app that would enable people to record possible offenders and forward this information to local police for further investigation, as oppose to taking the matter into their own hands.

I believe websites such as these are as misguided as the people who created them.

At a time where medical progress is slowly improving, people with disabilities are feeling pressured to play up their disability just to avoid being publicly abused.

Sonia Marcon, was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis at 21, now 34 she uses a cane. She has felt the pressure that comes with having an acquired illness at a young age. One day Marcon was verbally abused by a pregnant woman for using a pram space – the last resort when all the disabled spaces were occupied.

It's time to redefine the rigid confines that have been created around disabilities. The outdated wheelchair logo needs to go. People in the general public have a poor understanding of what a disability can be. Until recently, Queensland had designated parking spaces for wheelchairs and 'other' ailments. The latter is no longer issued to new applicants.

The key issue here is that aside from being extremely presumptuous and a massive violation of privacy, the 'able-bodied' community have once again taken it upon themselves to swoop in and come to the rescue.

No one is asking to be rescued, we are asking people to butt out.

Twitter: @CorrigaNatalie