In my twenties, I walked and biked everywhere. I went out with friends, partied late, survived on minimal hours of sleep and ate foods that didn’t feel the best. Sure, I wasn’t exactly the picture of health, agility, or peak energy, but I never doubted that I could do whatever I needed to do. Toward the end of 2025, my body finally began to show the depth of the cracks that had been quietly forming for years.
Then, my chronic illness hit me like a runaway train, completely altering the landscape of my daily life. Suddenly, a simple outing was no longer simple. A heavy sense of anxiety replaced my usual nonchalance: What if I crash while I’m out? How do I even begin to explain these symptoms to others? How much of a burden will I be to those around me? What is my exit plan?
I couldn’t shake the feeling that my body was betraying me. “I did all I could to nourish you, why would you let me down this way”, I would tell myself. Even though in hindsight, I see that I had taken my body’s resilience for granted. I could have benefited from a more compassionate understanding of the body and its limits.
Those amongst the luckiest of us, may recognize this idea that has been an intrinsic belief that our bodies work and will continue to work for us. But the truth is we are all at best, temporarily abled-bodied, and tend to avoid this conversation.
When we think about disability, many of us unconsciously place it in the category of “other people.” We imagine disability to have a specific representation depending on our societal conditioning. Unlike other identities we use to describe marginalized groups, disability is the one category that anyone can enter at any moment. A car accident. A cancer diagnosis. A chronic illness. A mental health condition. The natural process of aging. Any of these can alter how we move through the world, sometimes temporarily, sometimes permanently. Disability is not simply a matter of “them.” It is, if we allow ourselves the space to face it, an eventual “us.”
Able-Bodiedness is temporary at best…
Most people who currently identify as able-bodied rarely think of their experience as temporary. Yet, if we are fortunate enough to live long lives, many of us will eventually experience reduced mobility, hearing loss, vision changes, cognitive challenges, or other forms of disability.
Notice what feelings may arise from reading this. This isn’t meant to be alarming. This isn’t meant to bring up fear although it might. It is at its score, an acknowledgment of the human experience. Bodies change. Minds change. Circumstances change.
Recognizing and confronting this truth shifts the conversation about disability from being a “them” issue to a universal one.
Conversation on accessibility
Too often, accessibility is framed as an act of generosity, a special accommodation made for a small group of people. But if we confront the truth of the human experience, accessibility is not charity, it should be infrastructure. Accessibility is not about creating special pathways for a few people. It’s about building systems that recognize the full range of human experiences. That is the anti-oppressive way.
Pathways to Radical Empathy
Understanding that disability is a potential part of every human life invites us to think differently about how we treat one another. It encourages us to move beyond pity and toward solidarity. The question shifts from, “How can we help those poor people?” to “How can we build a world that works for all of us?”
That subtle change matters. It transforms accessibility from a favor into a shared responsibility. It transforms a “them” to an “us. That is the anti-oppressive way.
Liberatory Infrastructure
An accessible society is a resilient society. It is prepared for injury, illness, aging, and the countless ways human lives evolve over time. It creates flexibility that benefits everyone, not just those who currently identify as disabled.
Every ramp, caption, sensory-free, accessible website, inclusive workplace policy, and universal design choice is a form of future-proofing.
We are not building accommodations for strangers or others. We are building a world that our future selves may one day depend on.
The Internalized Story: The Capitalist Warrior
For those living with disability or chronic illness, one of the most exhausting parts isn’t always the symptoms themselves. Often the internal pressure to perform strength and productivity adds enormous weight to an already difficult reality. The pressure to put on a brave face,to keep pushing, to keep fighting, to become an inspiring beacon through it all. But what if those things are not available? What if the crushing impact of these symptoms is simply too much to hold and making space for anything else is just not possible. Often people can feel like they are failing. And that feeling is very much by design in a capitalist society where our worth is tied to our productivity. Take a moment and look back on the messages of your upbringing, you’re likely to trace the subtle ways you’ve been taught that your value is connected to what you produce. How much you accomplish, how much you work, how many degrees, how much money, how efficiently you move through the world. For people with disabilities, chronic illnesses, or fluctuating health conditions, that expectation can become a source of constant guilt and shame.
The problem isn’t productivity itself. Creating, contributing, and pursuing goals can be meaningful and fulfilling parts of the human experience.
The problem begins when productivity becomes the primary measure of human value.
When rest feels shameful. When limitations feel like moral failures. For many disabled people, this mindset creates a painful cycle. The body communicates a need for rest, care or support but internalized expectations demand more effort. The result is often frustration, burnout, worsening symptoms, and self-criticism/shaming.
Existing Is Not Failure – We cannot allow existing to be a failure.
Finding liberation in the dignity of existing without constantly proving your worth is part of our individual and collective journey.
The spaciousness of resting because your body requires it. Of moving at your own pace, rejecting the idea that our value depends on our usefulness or productivity and rejecting the idea that we have to earn our humanity. What if we could put the warrior mask and shield off. What if we didn’t have to transform our experiences into an inspirational story for other people’s comfort. Sometimes the most radical realization is that your life does not need to be exceptional to be meaningful. That living is enough. Sometimes existing in your body, especially for those of us who have been marginalized, is a form of radical resistance. And that is enough. That is the anti-oppressive way.
Additional Resources
Need help finding a BIPOC therapist who understands living with chronic illness or disability?
Related Reading
- Still Exhausted After COVID? Why BIPOC Communities Are Still Carrying It
- Understanding the Nervous System and Why it Matters for BIPOC Healing
- BIPOC Burnout and Imposter Syndrome
Not ready for therapy yet?
- Explore our Resources page for community organizations and mental health tools
- Follow us on Instagram for culturally sensitive mental health content
- Join our newsletter for monthly BIPOC mental health resources
About Healing in Colour
Healing in Colour connects BIPOC clients across Canada with therapists and allied professionals who practice from anti-oppressive values. We believe BIPOC people, in all our intersections, deserve therapy that supports our healing and liberation.
Learn more: About Us | Our Statement of Values