Goddamned Help

My friend is in a wheelchair. I can't tell you how hard I tried not to feel that way, but she wigged me out for a very long time.

She's taught me many lessons about help, inadvertently.

She came to burning man last year and I got to know her. We have a mutual group of friends and I see her at a big event every summer and during the holidays, and I talk to her on Facebook sometimes.

Last spring she and a lover of hers camped at Partner's house as they passed through. She was born with twisted hands and I don't think I've ever seen her feet but, now that I think about it, I think I remember that she doesn't have feet. Her power chair is pretty quick and she has a service dog who is sweet as pie, he is. And huge.

Anyway, she asked me for help whenever I saw her and I think it's because she saw me noticing her. She asks for help a lot (Actually I don't know if that's true. To me it looks like a lot but I'm impaired about help. Plus, we usually see each other at events where she/people need/give help.) and chatted with me once about how hard that used to be for her. 

'That' being asking for help. I can relate.

The guys lift her wheelchair in and out of cars for her or over a threshold, and occasionally she'll ask for a ride to an event. They steady her while she powers up plywood homemade ramps into houses. At burning man last year she asked me to help her get the homemade shower ready for her and to help her with some of her costumes. She has trouble with zippers. Her dog followed another male dog around at the summer event, clearly smitten. I've seen Partner lift her onto couches from her chair. She told me he's one of the few she trusts to do that because she knows he won't drop her. And that he's strong enough. I fell in love with him, harder, last summer. I also watched, horrified, as he gave her unholy crap about something. I held my breath, afraid to laugh, until I saw her bust into guffaws. My relief was palpable. I don't know why I feared she would be immune or offended by his snark and sarcasm. I asked him about it later. He basically said that he didn't care if she was in a wheelchair, she was going to get the same heckling everyone else did. Why should he be careful? It made me pause.

Why indeed?

Now whenever I see her I go up and say hello. I sit down next to her and pet her dog and ask how she is. I ask if I can help her and 9 times out of ten she accepts my help and thanks me.

I believe she's a public speaker and advocate. I need to ask her about that because I'm curious.

She's funny. She's smart and she's beautiful. She's my friend.

My mom, talking to me about a man she saw refusing wheelchair help, got me thinking about my friend. Sometimes we need help and when you let people help you, your life is easier.

Partner and my friend have taught me a lot about asking for and accepting help. I still get squicky when Partner leaps out of my bed on a Saturday morning and mows my lawn. Last weekend he vacuumed my house better than I've ever done it, while I scrubbed the bathrooms. The squick time is fleeting now because at one point he questioned me about it. He likes to help. He wants to help. He loves me and wants to do things for me. I feel the same way about helping him so I've relaxed a lot.

Am I so fucking undeserving of help or did I get used to Ex refusing to help me? I believe I already had the proud disposition, and that made the difficult interactions in my marriage harder.