As Someone With SMA, the Fight for My Life Never Ends
It’s become a sort of ritual. Once every few weeks around 3 p.m., my mom will drop by my room. “So,” she’ll say, with ridiculous amounts of forced brightness. “So.” Code word for “We…
The Wolf Finally Frees Itself
— Brianna Albers
Brianna Albers (she/her) is a crip-cyborg storyteller living in Minneapolis-St. Paul. She was diagnosed with spinal muscular atrophy type 2 in 1996 and lives with co-occurring physical and mental health conditions. By day she works as an advocate, bridging disability and mental health awareness to empower people to live their best lives; by night, she dabbles in imagination, and is currently writing “An Angel in the Garden,” an adult space fantasy with #OwnVoices disability representation. Find her online at briannahopealbers.com and on social media @briehalbers.
Featured Post
I’m learning nonattachment in my course on world literature
Words always come to me when I need them. Lines by Ada Limón, Anne Boyer, and Marie Howe act as life preservers, guiding me back to my center. When life gets tough, I…
Read more
My SMA Friends Remind Me That It’s OK to Rest
You already know that for the longest time, I didn’t want friends with SMA. I was young and desperate to be seen as “cool” (whatever that means), but more than that, I was…
How a Head Cold Saved My Life (Figuratively)
We all know that I hate getting up early. Just like I hate adjusting to a new wheelchair — I’ll do it if I have to, but that doesn’t mean I won’t complain…
‘Don’t Tell Me What I Can’t Do’: How ‘Lost’ Navigates Disability
When it comes to “Lost,” you either hate it, love it, or don’t get why people feel so strongly about it. I’m in the second camp, which is to say I feel strongly about…
For the Love of Frozen Breakfast Food
For the longest time, winters were a joyful occasion. It wasn’t that I liked the snow, or the sickness, or the slog of self-isolation. I didn’t want to stay home for a third of…
Who I Am: My Journey From Internalized Ableism to Belonging
I didn’t have many friends growing up. Part of it was the disability. Part of it was the mental illness — social anxiety, depression, and a dash of trauma for good measure. And…
I’m Learning to Embrace a New Shoe
I’m notorious for despising new wheelchairs. It’s not just the discomfort. It’s the painstaking process of calibration — tweaking and experimenting and grumbling under my breath, because my head needs to be tilted a…
In ‘Care Work,’ Grief Is the Garden of Our Dreams
Many, many weeks ago, I said I was going to read “Care Work: Dreaming Disability Justice” by Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha. In a month. Reader, I was wrong. I was busy revising my…
This Year, I Want to Be Brave
Inspired by Susannah Conway, I’ve started to assign a word — yes, a single word — to the upcoming year, as a kind of landmark. Something to focus on as I go through the…
I Can’t Get Evrysdi Yet, Thanks to a Broken Healthcare System
I may have thrown a fit about genetic testing, but at the end of the day, it was easier than most things. The genetic counselor sent me the test in the mail. (I’m…
Yes, Actually, Smart Tech Is Integral to My Quality of Life
The two most common words in the Albers household are probably “Hey, Google.” (That’s not strictly true. I tell my parents I love them more than I should, because I’m a sap, and my…
Living With Disability Can Be a Small ‘t’ Trauma
Content warning: The following contains discussions of trauma and death. Sometimes I forget that I have, like, an actual degree in counseling. People come to me for advice, and it takes me a hot…
