Short with wavy hair, he had the longest lashes I had ever seen on a man, and was much younger than I. The most refreshing part of it was that our relationship challenges had nothing to do with the disability.
The alliance was doomed to fail for reasons of distance, religion and the age gap.
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I had been loved for a long time and I want that again, so I tried everything; the Internet, singles events, singles bars, organized singles dance parties (that last one may not have been the best choice for me, all things considered! But my peer group hadn’t shed the negative messages about disabilities that we were all taught as children.
At 50, on a business trip to Cairo, I met someone and we really hit it off.
Fortunately, there are some men, a few men, who don’t see the wheelchair at all. He had a mid-life crisis and ran off with another woman—sigh: Yes, the cliché applies to the disabled and able-bodied alike.
*** Outside a jazz bar in Denver on Labor Day weekend, 1983, my friend and I met the man she would marry, who introduced me to the man I would subsequently marry. People often asked if I was disabled before we got married.
My one boyfriend in college, a blue eyed, dark haired hunk, raised in Hawaii with the Aloha spirit, told me all women are beautiful no matter how they look. ) With him I learned that approaching sex was easier than I thought it would be. But some of his friends weren’t so enlightened, and asked him if my body was cold like a cadaver. In fact, it was and is as nice and warm as any other living, breathing body).