Picture it, San Francisco, 2002. There I was, living my best life in one of the best cities on Earth when I learned, at the age of 22, that I, Sarah Jane, am disabled. Yes, I was born with a limb difference and much of my adolescence was spent PAINFULLY aware of that difference, however, I never considered myself “Disabled” up until this day. My parents never used the term and they had worked very hard to empower me as much as possible. While there were some things that I couldn’t do, there were so many things that I COULD do that I tended to take any limitations as they came and moved on.

So here I was, getting on a bus, as I did everyday, fumbling in my pockets for my fare when the driver said “That will be $0.35 cents”. I looked up, utterly confused as to why he was asking for a mere 35 cents. He must have read the puzzled look on my face and went on to explain “the ADA…” he paused for a moment, waiting for me to catch on. Nope, I was totally lost. He kindly continued “The Americans with Disabilities Act, as a disabled person, you only have to pay 35 cents.” It took me a minute to figure out what the HELL he was talking about and then it hit me. “OH!” I exclaimed. “Right. Disabled. Got it. Thank you.” I produced a quarter and nickel and quickly sat down, completely dumbfounded at what had just happened. Me? Disabled? Surely I wasn’t “disabled enough”… but the driver sees so many people every day that if he thinks so, then it must be true. YAHOO! 35 cent bus fare HERE. I. COME! It was like I had won the lottery for broke 22 year olds. I told everyone who would listen (and a few that I straight up cornered) about the utter madness of me, Sarah, being “disabled”. But it was true! That kind bus driver had anointed me as such and from that day forward I proudly dropped my steal of a deal bus fare into the cistern, making damn sure the driver saw my definitely “Disabled Enough” hand.

Even with my exciting new title and soon to be loaded coffers, I still struggled with being “Disabled Enough”. I had been so lucky in life to have not been teased as a kid or made to feel lesser as an adult. I didn’t feel marginalized. I didn’t feel discriminated against. I didn’t feel limited. I didn’t feel… disabled. But that moment on the bus brought into sharp focus that to the rest of the world, I was. It was a turning point in my life that was the first step in recognizing, defining, and eventually, owning my disability. It allowed me to begin to see the world from my own unique perspective. And while it would be another 13 years until I found out what my disability was even called (Thank you Lucky Fin Project!) and another 5 to to truly love and appreciate it, I wouldn’t change my path .

- Sarah

Wait… I’m Disabled?!