You can’t always see what someone is carrying

When we think of a disability, many people automatically have a certain image in mind. A wheelchair, crutches, a white cane, a walker, a guide dog or a prosthetic limb. Things that are visible and may make it easier to understand that someone might need certain accommodations.

But a disability isn’t always visible. Sometimes you simply see someone standing in front of you. Someone who is smiling, has done her makeup, goes out with her children, works, does the shopping, builds a website or spends time with friends. And yet, behind that image, there may be a completely different story.

That is exactly why Invisible Battles has a place on my website.

What you see isn’t always the whole story

I know from my own life how easy it is to draw conclusions based on what you can see on the outside. If I post a photo of myself smiling, it doesn’t automatically mean I’m not in pain that day. If I do something with my family, it doesn’t mean my body won’t pay the price for it. And if I manage to sit behind my computer and work on my website for hours, it doesn’t mean that everything is suddenly okay.

At the same time, I don’t want people to look at me and only see my health struggles. I am not my health struggles. I am a mother, partner, friend, writer and creator. I love beauty, working on my website, coming up with new ideas and spending time with the people around me. I can laugh, enjoy life, make plans and be proud of what I achieve.

And alongside all of that, I live with things you can’t always see from the outside. Those two realities can simply exist side by side.

Not every disability looks the same

Ook twee mensen met precies dezelfde diagnose hoeven niet dezelfde ervaring te hebben. De één kan misschien werken, terwijl de ander dat niet kan. De één heeft op maandag een goede dag en ligt dinsdag uitgeput op bed. Iemand kan een hulpmiddel soms wel nodig hebben en op andere momenten niet.

That doesn’t make one person sicker, stronger or weaker than another. We often only see a snapshot.

That’s also what I find so important about the image accompanying this blog. At the top, you can see different disabilities and mobility aids that are recognisable to the outside world. At the bottom, there is a woman who, at first glance, may not appear to have a disability at all. But alongside her are words such as chronic pain, fatigue, neurological conditions, mental health challenges and sensory processing.

Not because everyone with an invisible disability experiences all of those things. Quite the opposite. But because there can be so much going on that you simply cannot see with your eyes.

Understanding doesn’t have to begin with proof

Perhaps that is one of the most important things I want to convey through Invisible Battles. Someone shouldn’t have to prove that they are in pain, exhausted, overstimulated or unable to do something before we show understanding. We don’t have to understand everything about each other to treat one another with respect. And we don’t have to compare, either.

“But you could do it yesterday.” “You don’t look ill at all.” “If you can do that, surely you can do this too?” Comments like these may seem small, but they overlook everything you cannot see.

Maybe someone needed three days of rest just to be able to go on that one outing. Maybe they only pay the price for it afterwards. Maybe you only see the smiling photo, not what came before it or what happened afterwards. Or maybe they’re simply having a good day. And that deserves to be there too.

Invisible Battles isn’t about pity

I’m not sharing this because I want people to feel sorry for me. And Invisible Battles won’t be a place where everything is only heavy and sad either. Quite the opposite.

I want to make space for the real story. For the difficult days and the beautiful ones. For frustration and humour. For learning to recognise your limits, but also discovering what is still possible. For setbacks, small victories and everything in between.

Sometimes I’ll share my own experiences. Other times, a topic will go far beyond my personal situation. Because ultimately, everyone has their own story.

Perhaps we could look a little further beyond what we see

Je hoeft niet aan iemand te kunnen zien wat diegene meedraagt om te erkennen dat het er is. Een rolstoel maakt een beperking niet echter. Een glimlach maakt een onzichtbare aandoening niet minder echt.

Visible or invisible, different experiences can ultimately come with the same need: understanding, respect and support.

That is what Invisible Battles is about for me. Not putting people into boxes. Not deciding who has it harder. And not only talking about what we cannot do.

But to make visible what so often remains invisible.

Because every story is real. 💗