On Becoming Friends With a Non-Disabled Person
Illustration by Alessandra Olanow for Cup of Jo
I like making new friends…
I’ve made them in Target aisles, at farmers markets and in bookstores. Sometimes it’s just a few minutes of lively small talk, other times it has a Humphrey Bogart-level of promise. It’s comforting, in any degree, to feel seen by another person.
Once, on a solo trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, I said, “So we meet again!” to a woman who wandered near me into all of the same rooms, and we later ordered snacks at the cafe. A year or so later, on a flight from Minneapolis to Los Angeles, I hit it off with two seatmates and we went out for dinner during their visit to my hometown. And for my gold medal in serendipitous friendships, I agreed to a 20-hour, round-trip drive to a wedding with a mutual guest I barely knew. We were asked how long we’d known each other at the reception, and we responded with, “Since yesterday!” over a shared dessert.
