New York City, I Love You But I Have a Disability
I wish I could say that New York City is the best place in the world. My mind can remember perfect moments there, when everything and everyone radiated with such possibility that it’s no wonder why the famed Frank Sinatra song still strikes a nerve. I’ve solidified friendships in New York City; I’ve stayed up all night in New York City; I’ve fallen in love in New York City.
But New York City sucks.
I’m not saying this as someone who grew up in Los Angeles. And I know what it feels like when outsiders — cough, New Yorkers, cough — come to my hometown and have, like, a decent taco and a freeway experience and suddenly feel qualified to share their opinions. I want to love this place, because in many ways, it’s tried to love me. Yet, as a woman with cerebral palsy, New York City is at odds with my disability.
