Dating with a disability
Writer Sam Harris, 24, was not surprised a BBC journalist was discouraged from joining a matchmaking website as she is in a wheelchair. Here, he shares his own experiences..
WHEN I read how BBC journalist Lucy Webster was rejected by a dating site for being in a wheelchair, my heart sank.
It proved to me how those who live with a disability are discriminated against when looking for love online.
I should know – I’ve lived with disabilities since I was born.
I have hemiplegia, a type of cerebral palsy which restricts my balance and motor skills. It means riding a bike and using cutlery is a challenge, but thankfully falling in love has proved to be a skill I do have.
By the time I was nearing the end of my school days, I still hadn’t had a serious long-term girlfriend. The girls I liked somehow didn’t see me as boyfriend material.
In 2013, when I was 17, despite reservations from family and friends who worried I would be limited by my disability, I joined several mainstream dating sites.
I initially mentioned my disability and received very few responses, so I decided to make no reference to it. Suddenly, I got a lot more interest.
This threw up the question of when I should mention cerebral palsy. The first chat? Or the first face-to-face date? It’s a dilemma nondisabled individuals don’t have to consider but is a real issue for someone living with a disability. I didn’t want to feel I was hiding something, but I didn’t want to be defined by it either. I started talking to a girl called Ella on a mainstream dating website. I felt instantly comfortable mentioning my cerebral palsy, only for her to immediately mention hers. We quickly learnt we had lots in common and not just our disability. Like me, she’s a twin and loves football. I often wonder how my online dating experience would have played out had I not met Ella so soon. As I talked to others who live with disability, evidence began to suggest deep-seated discrimination. Rachel Charlton-Dailey, 31, was open about her autoimmune disease lupus and told me a girl on one dating app said she only wanted to date healthy girls as she couldn’t be a carer.
It was a similar experience for Karl Knights, who has cerebral palsy, autism and ADHD. He was very open about his disability when using an app, hoping this would prevent discriminatory comments.
But he found this wasn’t the case, with one potential date questioning if he was capable of having sex.
There is the argument that individuals who live with disabilities should use one of the successful “disability only” dating sites.
But I believe by limiting ourselves, it suggests love is different for those of us who fall outside the able-bodied norm. It also suggests, quite wrongly, that no able-bodied
people would want to date a disabled person.
Seven years later, Ella and I are still together. We’ve shared amazing experiences together, including holidays abroad.
Dating someone with a disability has taught me more about myself as well as how to adapt to others.
As Ella is visually impaired, I must remember not to say, “It’s over there” and point.
I also feel I have to constantly tell people our relationship is the same as for any other young couple. I’m not Ella’s carer and she is not mine.
Regardless of whether you are able-bodied or disabled, there is one thing all of us have in common – the ability to love and the need to be loved.
Love is a mysterious thing, but it’s no more or less mysterious for people with disabilities than anyone else.
When should I mention my cerebral palsy? On the first facetoface date?