The disabled population is the world’s largest minority of which anyone can become a part of at any time.

For all of us who woke up one day and discovered we’d switched ships during the night, how true is this?

Friday marked the beginning of March, and with it, the start of MS Awareness Month. All of this on the heels of Selma Blair’s’ unbelievable Vanity Fair red carpet walk. Her walk, determination, and willingness to be so visible was inspiring. Doing so while battling an invisible illness? Monumental, at least for us in the disabled community.

But, you may be wondering, wtf does Selma Blair have to do with dealing with invisible illness? The answer is –

e v e r y t h i n g

Here’s the thing; when I tell people about my diagnosis, there’s (usually) some variation of these three reactions that I get –

OMG I’m so sorry, that’s horrible, or insincere statements of some sort because they’re horribly uncomfortable.

OMG but you don’t look sick/you look so normal/you look sOoOoO good, other ways of saying “I don’t know whether to believe you or not because you don’t fit my stereotypical views of what an ill person looks or acts like.”

A blank stare, accompanied by a nervous chuckle, followed by a quick change of subject to anything other than the horrible business of the human condition.

Don’t get me wrong, on some level I understand. Sickness makes people get so uncomfortable. People find out not only am I sick, but I’m chronically ill and it freaks them out a bit. Nothing like seeing someone young get sick to remind you of the fact that eventually we all get old, our bodies decay, and we die. Quite the buzzkill, huh?

Friends, family, and in some shocking instances people I barely knew, have so supportive. People reached out to me, to find out how I was doing and how my family was. In some cases, I ended up having awesome conversations with people I never would have before my diagnosis.

Now, sometimes the rest of the world doesn’t play quite as nice.

The fact that I’m even addressing this issue in 2019 is exhausting. No one should feel like they can look at you getting out of your handicap placard displaying car and say things like, “hUuUuH wElL nOoOoOoW yOu DoN’t LoOk DiSaBlEd”

The fact remains that we do. Some days, if you’re up to it, you could do a fabulous hair flip as you say,

“Well I may not look disabled….but I am. You may not look stupid…and yet, here we are.”

(one of my fave comedians + fellow ms’er told me that, I quickly had to steal it and spread it)

But some days we don’t have the sass for that. That being said, I’ll quit rambling and get to my tips for;

Dealing with an Invisible Illness When You Aren’t Invisible

Ignore them. Very obvious, and obviously easier said than done, but probably still the most effective. Given no attention, most will go on their way. Better yet, it kills them when they don’t get a reaction. If they’re ignorant enough to say something dumb or mean, chances are their ego is fed by that kind of thing.

Don’t ignore them. Stare them down and give them a look that could kill. Even if you don’t have the spoons to lay the verbal smack down on them, giving them a look that could kill is sometimes even better. A staring contest is a great way to assert dominance – and let’s be real, the only thing tough enough to take me down was my own immune system, so nobody else can really phase me .

Educate them. Believe it or not, most people don’t want to be assholes. There will always be an exception to the rule. Don’t let that stop you, though. No, I don’t have a lot of time. It’s not my job to guide them gently. However, every interaction with these kinds of people is an opportunity to spread awareness. I’d feel pretty stupid if I wasted the moment on being upset or feeling burdened.

If you do try to go the third route, first of all, bless your heart. Advocating fiercely for something you believe in is much easier dreamed of than done. Being Selma Blair red carpet fierce in every day life is what I’m striving for though, and I hope you do too. I won’t win the battle everyday. Maybe not even most days.

But if we can try to be that fierce of an advocate for all of us sick, invisible or not, how dare we not take that chance? What use are we, if we can’t help each other feel even a little better in a world that already makes us feel like shit just for existing sometimes?

In a world of quiet, invisible warriors, try to be a Selma every once in a while. For me, it’s worth it.

As for MS Awareness Month, I’m looking forward to participating in our local ms walk and getting into some other advocacy opportunities. It’s making me uncomfortable as hell, but I bet Selma was at first, too.