Disability and Casual Sex

Written by Nu

As a queer physically disabled savarna person, my body has existed in many kink spaces of well known cities such as Bombay. While entering a room, I carry my disabled queer body with me, I carry my crutch with me, and I also carry grief. 

It is the grief and alienation of having a body that no longer understands the language of able-bodied intimacy - a body that has abandoned me and my needs.

But most of all, I carry a body that is heavy with others' assumptions of who a disabled person should and shouldn't be, of what agency should and shouldn't be allowed, and of how disabled identities should present themselves to the world.

My disability is pretty visible to the world, it's right there for the able-bodied world to assess, observe and pass their judgements. The able-bodied gaze cannot be avoided - in the power hierarchy of different bodies, the able-bodied sit on top. 

"I didn't expect to see you here!" I hear as soon as I enter one such space. 

The event was situated at one of those small inaccessible overpriced places in Bombay where only a certain kind of people who walk, talk and move a certain way could partake. The above sentence was said to me by a fellow queer person who I matched with on Bumble. 

Our conversations were nothing remarkable, but I wonder where they got the audacity to grant my entry into a space.

My body has been policed in more ways than one and so was the case here as well. 

The world likes to promote inclusivity, but only on its own terms and a kink dating event is not one of those spaces because the very core of kink is Desirability - something which disabled folks don't fit into. 

I would rather be invited to an event on "Diversity and Inclusion" but my body is rendered useless and de-sexualized in a dating event where even after all my activism, and the name that I've managed to earn for myself at the mercy of the D & I world, I'm still seen as fundamentally undesirable and unattractive.

Thus, the markers of disability as well as agency on my body are visible. My mobility aid is always with me, and I carry it everywhere. 

It has given me access in myriad ways - to different spaces and events.

In different spaces, it carries different meanings - at a disability event, it is seen as a mobility aid that is still less than a wheelchair because a wheelchair is seen as the epitome of disability.

At a dating event, it is seen as an unknown object. A fashion accessory perhaps? Why would someone possibly be carrying that around?

A man once approached me, and I could see that he was visibly interested. But then as soon as he saw the crutch beside me, he pointed at it in disbelief. 

"Why are you carrying that?"

He asked, as though people who are disabled or those who use mobility aids do not exist at all. 

I replied, "Um, because I'm disabled?" "OH!" he said, and then he walked away.

I wouldn't want to fuck a man anyway because I'm gay as fuck, but this was a conversation I'd like to forget.

To be disabled is considered to welcome weakness and disablement in your life, and hence to not be strong enough to fuck - or have the ability to do so.

Disabled people are nowhere to be found within kamasutra. As I scroll through Bellesa looking for videos, I try to search for videos that I can relate to, that show disability affirmative sex, but disabled people in porn are either fetishised, or seen as empty vessels of dependence who need assistance to fuck. 

Where are the disabled sapphic strap on dom videos?

As a queer disabled woman who's had a terrible dating life not even worth mentioning, I have given up on finding the perfect un-ableist affirming person to date. 

Sometimes, I don't want to talk and let you know about my disability or diagnosis and wait with bated breath about your decision of finding me attractive DESPITE my disability.

Sometimes, I just want to engage in casual sex. Sometimes I just want to be a typical horny 24 year old looking for intimacy. 

What are the various nuances involved in me looking for casual sex? Is it even possible, and can I go without oversharing about my trauma on the 1st date because my identity is so visible and it's an unwritten rule that I have to, because I'm on a "journey" and that I've been through some shit in my life?

Why can't I be fucked without getting my disability into the picture? 

Most important of all, what is the safety involved in seeking out casual sex as a physically disabled woman? 

What if I have a flair up of my illness while engaging in intimacy with a random stranger? 

What if I just want an out, because the sex is horrible and sad, or worse, abusive? 

Am I given the privilege to choose my sexual partner, and withdraw my consent at a later point? 

What is all this empowerment we keep talking about?

My exes have always treated my physically disabled body with fragility and control, and at 24 years of age I find myself to be very pleased with a random stranger praising me for ''being a slut" in bed. 

This was one encounter which hadn't ended in abuse or with this pressure to date each other after we had sex. 

I often have this habit of asking people I've slept with out on a date because in a messed up way, I often think I owe them dinner because they agreed to fuck me. 

This is what an ableist world has taught me: to be grateful for whatever little to average intimacy I receive and be thankful for it. 

In such a world, I'd rather fuck myself than be with anyone else.