This post was originally published on Audible.com.
Author, editor, and activist Alice Wong has been amplifying the voices of disabled persons for more than a decade. In , the deeply personal anthology she recently edited, Wong lifts the veil on the intimate lives of disabled persons, forcing listeners to question what they think of when they hear the word “intimacy” to begin with. What preconceived notions do we have? Why are we programmed to look at life and love through an ableist lens (even when we don’t want to)? This conversation left me wanting to understand more deeply—and to act on that newfound understanding.
Madeline Anthony: This collection of 25 first-person essays challenges the cultural stereotypes we have around what exactly constitutes intimacy, broadening the definition of the word and illuminating a new way of thinking about intimate acts. Why was it important for you to curate this essay collection now?
Alice Wong: One thing I find tiresome is how disabled people are still put in the position of having to prove they are just like everyone else—that they date, have sex, can become pregnant, get married, have children, etc. This presumes that in order to be accepted, we have to be relatable and center ourselves to non-disabled people’s notions of normalcy. Well, eff that. I am much more interested in the many unique and brilliant ways disabled people care for one another that go beyond romantic love and sex.
"Similar to how queer people expand and upend notions of family and sex, disabled people push and create our own ideas of intimacy."
I’ve been thinking about this—when I was seriously ill and hospitalized two years ago, I received so much love from my community. I was at one of the lowest points in my life where I was scared, vulnerable, and in need of help. People close to me showed up and were so generous with their resources, time, and labor. The pandemic also informed my thinking on intimacy. As someone who is high risk, the first two years in particular were lonely as I self-isolated. While people think everything is back to normal (no, we are still in a pandemic), high-risk and immunocompromised people are incredibly creative in sharing affection and care remotely, from afar, and with safety precautions. I hope that this anthology challenges people to broaden their ideas of what intimacy can look like and maybe that will change how they relate with others and themselves.
In your previous works, including the groundbreaking anthology and your 2022 memoir , you discuss structural ableism and how our world centers around hyper productivity, white supremacy, and capitalism. How do these realities play a role in intimacy?
