Strangers Part 2

BY: Sarah Cameron

This is a two-part series! To read Strangers Part One, click here!

Please don’t be fooled by my weak smile when I quietly thanked you for the compliment on my dress. I was truly flattered by what you said, and it actually made my day.

I didn’t mean to come across as uptight or snobby. It’s just that I’m so used to hiding my real smile from the world. The medication I’ve been on has had an awful effect on my teeth, and I’m afraid it’s becoming noticeable. Sometimes I forget how fake my smile might seem to strangers in public.

As I thanked you, I was reminded of all the hours I spent painstakingly sewing along the length of that dress. How my hands cramped with each stitch as I ensured it would be permanently buttoned up. Intentionally suffering in order to spare myself of any future struggles.

You’d be surprised at how limited I am with the clothes I can wear.

Of course, you couldn’t have known, at the very moment you admired my dress, my heart had softened, but my body remembered everything and braced for pain.
~
We exist in the background of each other’s day-to-day lives, trying our best to survive in a world that places high value on appearances.

We overdress in the summer heat because we’re embarrassed at the weight we gained from a new medication. Or maybe we don’t even get to spend much time enjoying those beautiful sunny days because our pharmacist warns against it.

It’s already hard enough; we shouldn’t have to worry about the ridicule and judgments on top of everything. But unfortunately, it’s easier said than done.

So you’ll struggle in public without your cane because you were tired of all the gawking pity stares and inappropriate questions from strangers about using it.
Or maybe you’ll park a little farther away from the designated handicapped spots because you don’t want to deal with any possible arguments with strangers over the validity of your permit. As a consequence, you’re now in worse shape than you might’ve been had you used your cane or parked closer.

It gets a little better if we can remember that it’s impossible to know what someone’s going through at first glance. No matter what angle we view from.

At the end of the day, whether we have a visible disability or not, we all just want to be seen and understood. Preferably without titles and labels, but seen nonetheless.

It’s only human.

So yes, there’s a chance it was you and your buddy who stood outside of the mall entrance, loudly discussing amongst yourselves the possible reasons I was using a cane. And FYI, it was NOT due to the size of my breasts.

You might’ve been the lady who rolled her eyes at my Iron Maiden t-shirt, as if I violated some undisclosed physiotherapy dress code.

And you just as easily could’ve been the stranger who secretly paid for my vet bill.
Restoring my faith in humanity and the kindness of strangers, after I had one of the worst days of my life.

Or maybe we didn’t notice each other at all.

Strangers is excerpted from a book Sarah Cameron is writing titled On Perspectives: What You Don’t See. A collection of stories highlighting situations that someone living with an invisible illness or disability will encounter throughout their day-to-day lives. A point of view that would otherwise remain unknown to others. Check the blog page for the first part of Strangers, and keep an eye out for more Perspectives from Sarah’s upcoming book. You can also follow Sarah on her new Instagram page for updates on future projects. Learn more about her on Our Contributors page!