Just recently, I started corresponding with another person who has LGMD.  It’s been interesting to compare our experiences and to discover how much we have in common.  One of the things J. asked me was how my dating life had been affected.  I laughed at the question, because it’s something I’ve often wondered about others who are coping with a disability.

When I hear stories of people with physical challenges who find love I’m filled with happiness for them and hope for myself.  And there are many stories.  One man with LGMD with whom I was briefly in touch a few years ago was happily married with three kids!  A documentary about a very independent and capable legless woman who had found the love of her life, married him, and had a child, left me with a sense of wonder and admiration for her.  And Margaret’s latest comment on Tips & Tricks for LGMD about her helpful husband was particularly uplifting for me.

The funny thing is that it’s not so much my physical weakness that has been an obstacle to finding love, but my frame of mind.  It’s taken a lot of mental effort to squash certain thoughts that even now still flit through my head:  Why would he want to share my complicated life with an uncertain future?  How can he cope with the hassles of being with someone who has muscular dystrophy?  What do I have to contribute to a relationship?  Would I be a burden?  How can he find me attractive? Isn’t it unfair for me to pursue him?

In my last serious relationship, all those questions troubled my mind, and as a result I never felt comfortable bringing up the subject of commitment or future plans.  Even after we bought a house together, talk of marriage remained taboo.  Not only did I think it was unfair to force him to address the situation, but I was afraid of the answers.  He too was tormented by worries he never mentioned.  Our self-censored communication eventually led to a wall growing between us, and by the end of our relationship we were practically strangers, emotionally isolated from one another.  Our unhealthy entanglement might have continued longer if we hadn’t sought the help of a relationship counselor.  The deep sense of guilt he felt at the thought of abandoning me, and my fear of being alone and undesirable had overshadowed the fact that we really were ill matched.  When I moved out, it’s as if a heavy burden had been lifted off my shoulder and I was finally able to reconnect with who I am.

Still, it took several months before I was able to pluck up the courage to date again.  The last time I had been on a date, stairs were not an obstacle and I could still wear high heels and sexy little dresses. Dating would be a little different now.  Hopefully my dazzling personality—need to keep working on it—would be so blinding, Mr. Right wouldn’t even notice my sensible shoes and my ungainly walk.

But how to meet a guy?  Especially when the few times I do go out, I’m always safely latched onto somebody’s arm.  It doesn’t really give the vibe of ‘single and looking’.

I remember 12 years ago, a young couple I met at a party told me they had found each other online.  My initial reaction was one of alarm as I asked them, eyes as round as saucers, “But isn’t it dangerous?!”  These days it seems lots of people are meeting on Internet dating sites.  I’ve heard many stories of success (and some disasters) with cyber dating.  Why not explore it for myself?  It was time for a little adventure.

I knew it would be really awkward for me to explain my situation, so I just laid it all out in my dating profile.  After all, I didn’t really want to be contacted by people who would have a problem with my issues.

It took me a while to ease into the flow of connecting online.  I felt like I had reverted back to the state of a giddy teenager.   For the longest time, I was even too embarrassed to post a picture.  What if one of my students’ parents were to see me?  The first time I saw the blinking square—the signal that somebody was messaging me—I was thrown into a tizzy.  What to say?!  But I slowly got the hang of it.  Then after many online chats, it was time to speak on the phone, another reason to lose my nerve.  And then the dreaded, yet exciting time to meet.  The first time was a disaster. When I saw the person at the far end of the bookstore where we had agreed to meet, I was so overcome with panic I hid between the shelves.  By the time I had calmed down, he had left and I get the feeling he wasn’t very happy.  So sorry, wherever you are!  But just like with job interviews, with more practice I was able to keep my nerves under control and I slowly shortened the length of time between the initial online contact and the in-person meeting.  I even posted my picture for short periods of times, which led to an increase in the quantity of hits, but not necessarily the quality.  There are lots of people out there who don’t read profiles!

The 7 men I met in person that one year were very nice, friendly, helpful and the source of some interesting conversations.  Four of them had names that started with A and four of them were Aries, (completely irrelevant, I know, but strange, don’t you think?)  There were surprisingly few awkward moments. What worried me the most about an evening out was what to do if I had to use the washroom.  Even the handicapped ones aren’t all that accessible.  So I would drink very little and eat something salty before each date—a solution that worked but was not ideal because dehydration, conversation and nervousness lead to a dry mouth…not a comfortable feeling.  I also always asked them right before sitting down—almost apologetically—if they thought they could manage to lift me up from the chair at the end of the evening.  I suppose I was afraid they might have a bad back or something.  Of course, it never was a problem.  I just had to offer a little guidance on how they could help me.  I remember one time I had to climb a few steps that had no handrail.  I asked my date if he could put his arm around me for support as I struggled up the stairs.  Instead, I was completely lifted off the ground, feet dangling in the air.  It wasn’t what I had in mind, but it worked.  Another time, I had a little trouble getting into my date’s tall jeep.  As I was trying to figure out different techniques that might work, he just scooped me up and set me on the seat.  Such fun! There was one fellow I really liked.  We talked animatedly for 6 hours straight and I thought he was interested in me too.  But he must have had qualms about my situation because we never saw each other again.  I felt pretty dejected after that date…and then really surprised when he called me a year later to ask me out on a second date.

Overall, my experiences were pretty good and I realized that there are people out there who will happily pursue a relationship with a disabled person.  But dating really is like an emotional roller coaster, inducing a range of feelings from thrilling highs and heart-thumping anticipation to lung-squeezing longing and disappointing lows.  It also unleashes a flood of thoughts, some of which are happy-feeling while others are thoughts of doubt and sadness, and reminders that I’m different.  The turmoil of dating eventually drained me and I stopped looking for an entire year.

But that long break was important to allow for a spurt of emotional and spiritual growth and to continue building my self-confidence.  And all of my past relationships and dating experiences were not in vain:  I now have a much clearer idea of what’s important to me in a relationship.  I get the feeling it won’t be long before I meet my perfect match.  I’ll know it’s him when we both feel like we’re better people together than separate.  We’ll feel uplifted and motivated in each other’s company.  Our conversation will flow naturally, unimpeded and without pretense and will be peppered with lots of laughs.  Our melded energies will give rise to a flurry of ideas that will multiply and keep getting better as they bounce back and forth between us.  And together, instead of seeing obstacles, we’ll only see opportunities for creative solutions and purposeful action.  And let’s not forget the powerful chemistry between us that will set our souls ablaze and illuminate our lives.

In the meantime, I’m going to follow the advice of Amy Dolan, a very wise young woman with MD who wrote on one of the muscular dystrophy forums:

“I know a lot of people in chairs struggle with finding love but I think as long as you shine and let people see that you don’t let your disability rule you, people will see you first and the chair second. Just go out, have fun, live and be happy and good things will come to you. I firmly believe that it’s all about attitude…and maybe a little cleavage if you’ve got it! “ 

And she obviously practices what she preaches.  She’s engaged!