Radical acceptance refers to the profound and genuine embrace of the present moment. Seemingly simple, this concept has been one I’ve been wrestling with for a while. Intellectually, I understand the meaning of radical acceptance and frequently teach it to my clients. Yet, I’m still on my journey to fully accept and embrace the diverse implications of my visual disability.
I began my journey of radical acceptance after being diagnosed with progressive vision loss 12 years ago. Early in this process, I leaned into the belief that I would never see again. Friends, family, and strangers have been quick to chime in that science is boundless and a cure is inevitable. Though I know this sentiment comes from a place of warmth and a desire to provide hope, I frankly have always believed I will never see again. I needed to believe I would never see again, or the uncertain and prolonged hope would feel desperate and cruel. Plus, wishing to have a different physical body than my own suggests there’s something wrong with me, and it’s far more beneficial to feel grateful and appreciative of what I have.
Despite this literal acceptance, it’s been harder for me to engage in moment by moment radical acceptance. it has been immensely difficult to radically accept that my life is and will likely continue to be hard due to my vision loss. Being unable to see and living in a predominately visual world means stressful and painful moments are inevitable. Embarrassing moments like getting lost in familiar areas, failing to recognize friends and family, dropping and running into things, are painful. Lonely moments, like missing out on information, being unable to relate to others’ visual experiences, and lacking the capacity to share social exchanges through eye contact or facial expressions with others are painful. Infuriating moments like failing to receive necessary accommodations, having my disability status questioned, and encountering microaggressions and ableist language, are painful. When I respond to these daily challenges by putting on a smile and pretending I’m not experiencing pain, I am not radically accepting the circumstances of my life. Acting as though I can do it all as an independent, confident, ambitious disabled woman is not the entire story, and denying the pain, need for help, and rampant discrimination creates further suffering. I suffer by telling myself to simply work harder. I suffer by fantasizing about what life would be like if I could drive myself or read standard print. I suffer by expecting I can do anything a sighted person can do.
Radical acceptance means fully letting go of desire to change the present moment. I’m gradually learning how liberating, albeit difficult, this radical acceptance can be. I am working on radically accepting that many things are more challenging and time-consuming for me; I can’t do a lot of things; and I do many things differently. I have to work within the systems I’m in to gain the support I need, and sometimes systems fail. It has taken me a long time to radically accept that I need to adjust my expectations to accommodate my vision loss, and yet, radically accepting the implications of my vision loss on my life enables me to better plan and cope.
My radical acceptance does not preclude me from fighting for change. Instead, I am making more informed decisions by radically accepting my circumstances. I advocate for improved policies and protection for people with disabilities. I voice my needs for accommodations. I continue to follow the medical advancements that may lead to a cure. I am only radically accepting the conditions of the present moment.
My journey learning to radically accept my vision loss and its implications has made me profoundly empathetic with my clients who struggle with this concept. Radical acceptance is challenging, because it’s painful. It requires leaning in fully to the circumstances of the present moment. This transparency with our circumstances hurts. And at the same time, it’s releasing. It means I can let go of wanting for something other than what I have. I am hopeful that my journey, albeit incomplete, will help me work with others on the journey of facing and radically accepting ourselves.
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