
Culture
Sex & Disability: A Visibility Series (Part I)
13/07/2018
As conversations regarding inclusion and diversity continue to escalate, there is one group that seems to be habitually left out of the conversation: those living with a disability. Few films, television shows, or brand campaigns today showcase members of the disabled community. Moreover, sex for those living with a disability remains totally taboo. As young actress Coco de Bruycker says, “No one really links disability to beauty, sexual attraction or eroticism.”
In an effort to shed light on the sex lives of the disabled, we spoke to a group of female-identifying individuals about their personal experiences and what they wish society would recognize. This is part one of a two-part series.
Coco de Bruycker
I’m 21 years old and I am currently studying acting in New York. I was born in Hamburg, Germany but grew up in Mainz, near Frankfurt. I was born with cerebral palsy but was raised as an ordinary girl. The easiest way to understand cerebral palsy is: Because of a lack of oxygen I had at birth, the area in my brain which controls my walking capabilities was damaged. Now when I walk, most people think it affects only my legs and hips but it’s something that impacts my whole body. It used to affect my hands as well but I trained a lot and play the piano today too, so you barely notice anything different about my waist upwards. Someone once compared me to a tango dancer, I dance through life, just when I walk I limp a bit, and my knees touch.
For many years I didn’t see myself as a sexual being because of my disability. But acting helps me really to practice embracing who I am. We only have this one body on earth to make a change for the better. It’s a tool, so we should care for it. Today I’ve come a little further in accepting myself. I compared auditioning with dating once: You come in there, you say who you are, what you do, what you have got, shine your light, you amaze people (or not) and then you walk home (and celebrate or cry, depending on the audition).
Looking back at my experience, my disability has never been explicitly addressed. Maybe because my condition is not the severest of what there is. Maybe also because I’m too easy-going but I’ve never felt any different to a woman without a disability in bed. Fear, awkwardness, humour, don’t we all have various moments of these?
On most dates, people will say: “Oh, when you got up I thought you hurt yourself or something because I forgot about your disability when we sat down.” And that’s the most beautiful compliment you can pay me, honestly. I want to be seen equally, just as an individual who walks a little funny.
Personally, I’m sexually attracted to a partner who I can connect to emotionally in the first place. I think it’s my mindset that sets disability in dating and relationships aside because I don’t see myself disabled, all-abled neither, though. Sometimes I think that I… just am? And that’s what I wish for other people with disabilities too. I found that as soon as I forgot about the fact that I’m disabled, I’m happier. I don’t deny my disability either, it’s a contradiction.
Physically sex has never been a challenge for me, even though people might assume that. The real disability was some emotional issues and barriers within myself. When I hit puberty I denied myself and my body having this perfect image in mind: The one of this seductive, female body -- majestic and ruling -- just as in fashion magazines or perfume commercials. Realizing that I don’t and won’t ever have such a body was disappointing. I felt clumsy with my disability, childishly-sweet and it took a while until I began to see myself as a sexual being. It’s a practice that goes up and down. Some days I just feel more attractive than on others and I bet any woman would feel that with me.
I feel like disability is still seen as a weakness. No one really links disability to beauty, sexual attraction, or eroticism. I haven’t acted in any sex scenes yet but I’d apply to them the same that goes for acting in general: I just wanna be seen as a human being, as a person who portrays other persons so they can see each other. If that includes sex, I’m up for the challenge.
All in all, I think that it’s possible to break stigma like these and show disability in the light of true strength, positivity and beauty because in the end, we’re just humans as well and that’s what I like the world to truly see me: As a woman, a human being, as just me, Coco. Who happens to walk a little funny.