A Journey Through Normalcy and Difference!

Hi there! I'm Aashima, a 29-year-old, defying the curve—literally. I was born with congenital scoliosis. It is a medical condition characterized by an abnormal curvature of the spine.

In a world that often perceives me as just like everyone else, I've threaded my way through life with a reality that rarely finds its place in everyday conversations or the spotlight of my achievements.

Confidence, they say, is my trademark—an attribute I've proudly worn throughout my academic journey, relationships, and various endeavors.

Yet, I know how every choice in my life, consciously made or not, has been through the lens of my disability. It's not merely a facet of who I am; it's a shaping force, influencing both how the world perceives me and how I perceive myself.

Despite the visibility of my disability, often marked and evident, I've received compliments like "Humein yaad hi nhi rehta" (We just don't remember). Initially taken as a compliment, as I navigate my twenties, it's become increasingly challenging to view it positively.

Why, you ask?

The paradox of being perceived as 'normal' when convenient and 'different' when it suits others triggers profound questions about identity and societal expectations.

For instance, why did I feel the need to disclose my disability on Bumble, conflicting with my desire not to let it define me? In the realm of dating and casual relationships, why do guys often forget about my physical disability, only for it to become an issue after a few days?

The label of 'superhero' or 'inspirational figure' often accompanies us, but the unspoken reality is the struggle we face—the feelings of isolation, rejection, and the constant awareness of limitations in an able-bodied world.

A collective silence prevails among us, born out of a desire not to be perceived as vulnerable or seeking sympathy.

Why do conversations about our invisible struggles rarely occur without a touch of pity? Why do media discussions invariably take an emotional turn, crafting our narratives into sob stories?

In the tapestry of lives like mine, where supportive families raise us no different from their other kids, where pressure and expectations mirror those faced by everyone else, and professional discrimination isn’t a familiar foe. Yet, when I board a metro, the subtle act of offering a seat—a gesture born out of basic sensitization—remains an elusive gesture. Or when a curious 6-7-year-old onlooker laughs at me, perhaps unaware of the discomfort caused. Why doesn't their family step in?

So, while my life may align with the conventional, where people conveniently forget and then remember my disability, the day I choose to notice and feel things, I'm inevitably reminded of standing out in the crowd. It's a sentiment that lingers, an awareness that transcends the routines of daily life.

The struggle to balance confidence with vulnerability, to challenge societal norms while seeking understanding, is an ongoing process. This journey is not just mine; it's a narrative shared by many with similar experiences, navigating the world with visible and invisible battles.

This blog is a modest attempt to peel back the layers, share the unspoken truths, and forge connections with those who, like me, navigate life's complexities with an unseen difference.