I have experienced many social transitions throughout my life. It started when I was 15, and my gait changed, resulting in a noticeable limp. People often asked why I walked “funny” or what was wrong. The situation quickly shifted when I began tripping and falling more frequently. Instead of just being asked about my walk, I was questioned about why I was tripping, or I found myself holding my breath, hoping I wouldn’t stumble, just to avoid the questions.
At 17, there was another transition. I started using a wheelchair in public, and with that came a new set of challenges. People I knew bombarded me with questions, strangers assumed I had been in an accident, and some friends distanced themselves because they felt uncomfortable.
Then, in 2020, when I came out and began my gender transition, I once again faced a round of questions, uncomfortable glances, and distancing from others—this time, it was from strangers who didn’t understand my journey.
Now, after a visit to my pulmonologist this past month, I’m facing yet another social transition. He recommended that I use a noninvasive ventilator on days when my breathing is particularly labored. I often have days when I struggle to catch my breath, leaving me physically exhausted. The hope is that the ventilator will help ease that struggle so I won’t be so drained. But I know that this new piece of medical equipment will bring a whole new level of attention—from stares by strangers to more questions from people who don’t understand. I also anticipate more distancing from friends who may feel uncomfortable, and I’m not looking forward to it.
To be honest, I dread it. I dread the idea of being seen as incompetent simply because I use a medical device. I fear that this will affect my career, potentially costing me promotions or leadership opportunities. I’m anxious about facing a new level of ableism and the social challenges that come with it.
At the same time, I know I need this support, even though it may bring a lot of social strain. So, I wait for insurance approval, feeling both anxious and uncertain about what’s to come. If it’s approved, I’ll have to navigate yet another difficult social transition—one that I know will be hard but is necessary for my well-being.