My wheelchair allows me to be my best self

I’ve been using my wheelchair since I was 2 years old. I’ve been told that I would just drive in circles constantly at the start. My dad would say “try going in a straight line, Gem” but I was having non of it. It was fun and freeing.

 As I got older, some of my first memories are of strangers looking at me with pity, saying “aww bless her” or “such a shame isn’t it”. I would be so confused as a child because I didn’t understand why they felt sorry for me being with my family or playing with my friends. I didn’t clock it was about my wheelchair until much later.

But, the ironic thing is that my wheelchair is my freedom. Everyone is different of course but for me it’s part of my identity and who I am. It’s been with me in some of my greatest moments and hardest times. It’s taken me to my graduation, first holiday and speaking events around the world.

 One event that always cements how I feel about my wheelchair is when I travel abroad. The fear of handing my chair over is never easy. Once I was traveling to italy for a work event. When we landed, even though the staff were supposed to meet me with my chair they shouted “SIT IN HERE” and pointed to a standard manual airport wheelchair. My heart sank. For context this chair did not fit me. I could not drive myself and I didn’t know where my wheelchair was.

I started to feel anxious and upset. Wondering how long I would be in this chair for. Where are they taking me? What if I needed the toilet? My chair has customised electric footplate in order for me to safely transfer. As someone who is only 3’1” I suddenly felt very vulnerable. I turned mute and looked to my brother for support. He knew how I felt and took over leading the conversations with the staff. I was parked by the luggage conveyor with no answers and hints that they didn’t know where my wheelchair was.

How would I do my job? How would I manage my own care? I really didn’t want my brother having to care for me personally.

 After 20 minutes we finally saw my wheelchair being pushed over to me. I sighed with the biggest relief. My brother lifted me into my chair and instantly I felt like me again. Smiling, talking to the staff excited for the next few days.

So, to people who feel sorry for wheelchair users, remember - for a lot of us wheelchairs are not just our freedom but part of our identity too. Oh and perfect for strolling the sunny streets of Italy - thanks Permobil!

Gem Turner