Back To Reality

I love New York City and I’ve missed New York City. New York, Manhattan specifically, has always been one of my favorite places in the world. Despite being surrounded by skyscrapers, everything feels in reach. I love finding new places to explore and new experiences to try. As cliché as it sounds, everything does feel possible here. 

After being away for over a year, I am finally back...at least for a few days. A lot has been happening at home and now was the perfect time to get away for a few days and find an apartment. Yes, I am finally moving to New York City and I could not be more excited. The instant the car emerged from the tunnel I felt at peace, I felt like I was in the place where I belonged. I missed the sights, the sounds, the smells, and the energy.

What I didn’t miss? Feeling like when I walk around that I am a public exhibit. 

Let me explain… 

I am used to people pointing, staring, laughing, taking pictures. It has happened throughout my entire life. But, being the only little person in a relatively small town, people got used to seeing me. They knew that there was a little person in our town of average-sized people. While there were still occasions of being put on display (Click HERE to read my post about being called THAT), they were relatively few and far between. In New York it’s a lot more common. 

Since arriving on Tuesday (keep in mind I’m writing this on Thursday) I’ve had people follow me, getting in my face and asking if I’ve been on a reality show or if I’m single and would want them to be my boyfriend. This is not a new occurrence, this has happened before. People have also stopped me in my tracks to ask if they could take my picture, not understanding why I would politely say no. I usually blast music or a podcast in my headphones and just focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. 

There was one instance where I was walking with my family downtown to one of my favorite restaurants for dinner. As we were walking there was a man looking at me who I knew was going to say or do something because he was seeing a little person on the streets of New York City. As usual, I kept walking, trying to keep up with my family, until my mom suddenly stopped and screamed expletives at the man. Now, my mom is used to these random encounters, she knows what I go through as a little person in an average-sized world. She has seen people stare, people point, people laugh...she’s seen it all and usually follows my lead and ignores them. So, when she stopped and called him out, I’m talking full-blown momma bear, I was taken aback. Clearly I missed something. I pulled her away as fast as I could and demanded an explanation. Apparently, as I kept walking, she saw him lean down to presumably kiss me on the head. I don’t know what shocked me more: the audacity of the man or the reaction from my mom. To say I was incredibly proud of her in that moment would be quite the understatement. 

Coming back to the city for a few days has been a major reality check. It reminded me that as a little person, I am different, I do stand out. I know that, especially in a city like New York, I will encounter people who have never seen a little person before. But, that does not make it okay to treat me or anyone who is a little person, who is disabled, who is different, like we are on display for other peoples’ amusement. I am not an object, I am a person and should be treated as such. I don’t think that is too much to ask for.