True love, friendship and emotional bondages take place only within a community.
Luckily I had fallen in a true love with a girl who was also a VI, on the other 
hand fortunately or unfortunately God had different plan for me.  Sighted girl 
came in to my life whom I just accepted.  I never dreamt of someone should 
commute me in a two wheeler and I never dreamt of a girl who should be 
courageous enough to tackle the challenges.  I just dreamt of having a partner 
whom I can love and take care of her.  People have been often materialistic and 
only think practically.  But I believe there is an emotional life beyond this.  
This is why our lives have been becoming mechanical.  It is not about likings 
or disliking the person.  Often our thought processes might not sync up.  Even 
our disabilities might not come in to the picture.  If we have married a 
nondisabled person, we will need to adjust and should programme your mind in 
such a manner that your feelings are not hurt.
Just go to any stranger chat sites or open social media and if you portray your 
disability let us see how many true friends or open minded chats you can have 
with.
You don't have to portray it necessarily.  Now days people prefer pics and gifs 
mostly.
If you avoid pics or gifs you are most likely to be ignored.  If you think that 
he or she seems genuine and tell them the truth then also the same happens.

-----Original Message-----
From: [email protected] <[email protected]> On Behalf 
Of avinash shahi
Sent: Tuesday, May 30, 2023 3:29 PM
To: [email protected]
Subject: [AI] Alicia Loh writes in nytimes: Modern Love: Disability shouldn’t 
make someone undesirable or impractical as a romantic partner

"Seeking a Lover, Not a Nurse"
There are two main concerns people seem to have about dating a disabled person. 
First, whether we can have sex, and second, whether our partners must become 
our caretakers.

Love Letter  Real stories that examine the highs, lows and woes of 
relationships.
My therapist asked if I was pessimistic in love, and I said, “No, I’m 
realistic.”
For me, the answer to the first question is easy (“Yes, but not with you”). The 
second, however, is more loaded. Although it’s safe to say that while disabled 
people want many things from love (a best friend, a partner, a lover, an 
Instagram photographer), none of those roles is a nurse.

These questions arise from fear rooted in ableism. Disabled stories aren’t 
mainstream or seen as sexy, certainly not disabled love stories, and it’s easy 
to fear the unknown. I have hidden my disabled reality from friends, swerving 
between wanting to trust them with my full self and my fear of being seen as a 
burden. But when I have been open, in fits and spurts, I have been met with 
love. The result has been a mélange of understanding: One friend helps with my 
heavy water bottle while another suggests accessible venues instead of leaving 
it to me.

At times, feeling the weight of their care, I have wondered how a romantic 
relationship might fare in this context. But my concern is internalized 
ableism. People care for each other every day: They pour water for the table, 
steady a clumsy friend, ensure a vegan colleague has food. Why are these 
normalized while my care is a dreaded dependence?

Disabled people are often viewed as only capable of receiving care and as such 
are unable to be equal partners. But love and care manifest in many ways. I 
have helped loved ones with problem-solving, fighting for worthwhile causes, 
providing comfort at the end of a long day, knowing someone’s vulnerabilities 
and holding them with love.
As a disabled woman, I have to be.
I am ready to take my lifetime of experience with the complexities of care and 
pour it into a romantic relationship. But for too long I have endured society’s 
ableism and assumptions in ways that have impeded my efforts. I am tired of 
this being my singular problem. I am tired of looking for the rare man who will 
embrace me as fully and wantonly as if my disability were a peanut allergy.
Alicia Loh is a commercial lawyer in London Love is not a solo journey, and the 
onus should not always be on me to be open, willing and comforting to a society 
that fails to recognize my desires and desirability. While it isn’t my 
responsibility to educate, I will keep hoping to find someone who is unafraid 
to learn how extraordinary we could be in our very ordinary life together.
I am a power wheelchair user with spinal muscular atrophy, a condition that 
causes severe muscle weakness. I went on my first date at 24 with someone who 
didn’t know this, despite clear pictures of my wheelchair on my dating app 
profile.

I have had many such encounters since. Maybe men don’t look at profiles closely 
enough, though I find a nearly 300-pound wheelchair hard to miss, or maybe they 
aren’t used to seeing disabled people dating.

There’s a reason I sighed with relief when my doctor asked about my sex life 
and reproductive plans. Too many medical professionals assume that disabled 
people are asexual and can’t have children. There’s a reason Gem Turner, an 
outspoken disability activist, wrote about dating for the first time at 28 like 
a confession. There’s a reason, when I read Rebekah Taussig’s love story in her 
memoir, “Sitting
Pretty: The View from My Ordinary Resilient Disabled Body,” I clung to it like 
a prayer.
Disabled people often live an apology. Sorry my needs are an inconvenience. 
Sorry I can’t attend the inaccessible event. Sorry I am also a person looking 
for love.

Before reading Rebekah’s memoir, I didn’t really see disabled people in 
relationships, and now I see them everywhere: dating, engaged, divorced and 
remarried with a baby in tow, just like anyone else. But disabled people face 
unique challenges in this realm.
When I first started dating, I rejected that my disability would be an 
obstacle. It was simply an automatic filter ensuring that I would match with 
open-minded, socially aware men.
In February, I matched with Ben, who was inquisitive and kind and even excited 
about my glittery wheelchair and its USB port (“Can you plug speakers into 
it?”). By this stage, I not only had a full-length shot featuring my 
wheelchair, but also a video of me blazing through a corridor with fairy lights.
We spent hours sending rambling voice messages and teased each other about our 
accents. We played Wordle until he introduced me to the death spiral of 
Sedecordle. Before our first date, I asked if he was concerned that I was a 
wheelchair user and needed help.

“I’m only concerned that I can’t guarantee I’ll always be around,” he said.

I paused, unsure of what to say.

Then he added: “But you could have a helper?”

I rejoiced. Until then, I had never directly asked whether my disability made 
me undesirable or impractical as a romantic partner. I started to think I had a 
realistic shot at love. But I should have leaned toward pessimism, because soon 
after this conversation, the messages stopped. By Monday, Ben made his excuses.

Even though it didn’t lead to a relationship, this experience encouraged me. I 
downloaded Bumble, threw up some pictures, had meaningless conversations. But a 
year after joining dating apps, I had nothing to show beyond amusing anecdotes.
Then came Josh, who briefly pulled me back from an impending spiral.
We flirted on Hinge, had a video call. He messaged me after and the next day. I 
fawned over his sunburn and found the fact that he rang his church’s bells 
deeply appealing. Then he ghosted me.

My mother’s first question: “Did he know you’re disabled?”

Considering how much he told me I was cute in pictures, I can’t believe he 
didn’t. But some form of my mother’s question has always been in my mind. I am 
a London-based lawyer by training and trade, and we are taught about but-for 
causes. They work like this: But-for my disability, would men view me as a 
potential romantic partner?

With nothing to break my fall after Josh, I was confronted with the question I 
had been pushing aside.

Almost everyone I know is in a serious relationship, which only sharpens the 
distinction of my singleness. Some friends accuse me of being picky, but I only 
have three non-negotiables: that he and I be in the same city and have cultural 
and religious compatibility. I have no hangups about height (my wheelchair is 
height-adjustable), and I am not looking for a man who shares my every 
interest. Still, being thought of as picky is far preferable to being thought 
of as undesirable.
Soon I met Julie, who has the same medical condition as I do and had just moved 
from France to London, where she promptly joined Hinge. As we swapped stories, 
she said, “I’ve always thought more educated guys would be more respectful and 
open-minded, but they’re really not.”

This mirrors my experience. Cambridge, my university town, was crawling with 
well-educated men. A good proportion of my current social circle are fellow 
London lawyers. Some of this pool I have fancied a little; others I have 
fancied a lot. None have fancied me back — or at least, none have dared to 
admit a crush on the disabled girl.

When Julie said this, I laughed. It turns out, Cambridge men and French 
business school men are the same — lovely to a fault, happy to be our friends 
(sometimes suggesting more), but never crossing the line.

The part of me posting proudly about disability on Instagram says that my 
disability doesn’t make me any less datable — or lovable. But when I have never 
known someone to fall in love with me, it is easy to take pessimism as realism.

My experiences have left me with a nagging feeling that most men are only 
vaguely aware I am female — enough to be soft and comforting, but not enough to 
be desired. Of course, I have never been told this directly; it would be 
impolite.

My suspicions were once strong enough to ask if a friend had feelings, and I 
was sorely mistaken. At first, I was happy, because all I had wanted was 
clarity, and I figured we were close enough for him to know he didn’t like me. 
But lately I have pondered his unquestioned clarity.

I am not so conceited that I believe every man will be beguiled by my winning 
personality, but I fear those who are beguiled have already dismissed 
attraction as impossible: How can a disabled person be the object of desire?

There are two main concerns people seem to have about dating a disabled person. 
First, whether we can have sex, and second, whether our partners must become 
our caretakers.
For me, the answer to the first question is easy (“Yes, but not with you”). The 
second, however, is more loaded. Although it’s safe to say that while disabled 
people want many things from love (a best friend, a partner, a lover, an 
Instagram photographer), none of those roles is a nurse.

These questions arise from fear rooted in ableism. Disabled stories aren’t 
mainstream or seen as sexy, certainly not disabled love stories, and it’s easy 
to fear the unknown. I have hidden my disabled reality from friends, swerving 
between wanting to trust them with my full self and my fear of being seen as a 
burden. But when I have been open, in fits and spurts, I have been met with 
love. The result has been a mélange of understanding: One friend helps with my 
heavy water bottle while another suggests accessible venues instead of leaving 
it to me.

At times, feeling the weight of their care, I have wondered how a romantic 
relationship might fare in this context. But my concern is internalized 
ableism. People care for each other every day: They pour water for the table, 
steady a clumsy friend, ensure a vegan colleague has food. Why are these 
normalized while my care is a dreaded dependence?

Disabled people are often viewed as only capable of receiving care and as such 
are unable to be equal partners. But love and care manifest in many ways. I 
have helped loved ones with problem-solving, fighting for worthwhile causes, 
providing comfort at the end of a long day, knowing someone’s vulnerabilities 
and holding them with love.
As a disabled woman, I have to be.
I am ready to take my lifetime of experience with the complexities of care and 
pour it into a romantic relationship. But for too long I have endured society’s 
ableism and assumptions in ways that have impeded my efforts. I am tired of 
this being my singular problem. I am tired of looking for the rare man who will 
embrace me as fully and wantonly as if my disability were a peanut allergy.

Love is not a solo journey, and the onus should not always be on me to be open, 
willing and comforting to a society that fails to recognize my desires and 
desirability. While it isn’t my responsibility to educate, I will keep hoping 
to find someone who is unafraid to learn how extraordinary we could be in our 
very ordinary life together.
https://www.nytimes.com/2023/05/05/style/modern-love-disability-seeking-a-lover-not-a-nurse.html

--
सादर/ Regards

अविनाश शाही/ Avinash Shahi
सहायक/ Assistant
मानव संसाधन प्रबंध विभाग/ Human Resource Management Department भारतीय रिजर्व 
बैंक/ Reserve Bank of India लखनऊ क्षेत्रीय कार्यालय/Lucknow RO विस्तार/ 
Extension: 2232

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Disclaimer:
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person sending the mail and AI in no way relates itself to its veracity;

2. AI cannot be held liable for any commission/omission based on the mails sent 
through this mailing list..


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