The power of smiling in life with Friedreich’s ataxia
It not only encourages kindness, but also brightens my day
Written by |
As I get further into my journey with Friedreich’s ataxia (FA), I realize how important smiling is.
When I smile, it not only conveys to those around me that I am at least fine, if not better, but it also tells my brain the same.
I get a lot of curious looks, questions about my well-being, and worried faces watching me navigate life in a wheelchair. When I smile at strangers or those around me, it feels like a nonverbal way of saying, “Everything is fine. I’ve got this under control.”
There are certainly moments when I am not fine or in control, and I am getting better at asking for help and expressing my needs. I am comfortable saying “yes” when people offer to open doors for me, grab or carry things, and perform other small favors that improve my safety, accessibility, and comfort. While I don’t like needing as much help as I do, I accept help with a smile.
For example, I’ve noticed that people often go out of their way to hold doors open for me, even if it’s one I can push open relatively easily. The least I can do to acknowledge their kindness is to smile and say, “Thank you,” or “I appreciate you.”
When I smile from my wheelchair, I have two main things in mind: first, that those around me might not often see younger people in wheelchairs, so this is my chance to make a positive impression. I don’t shoulder that responsibility lightly.
I also have my fellow mobility aid users in mind. I want people to open doors for the next person they see who uses a wheelchair or a walking frame, so I reward their kindness to encourage future kindness.
Smiling also sends messages to my brain. Depending on mobility aids has affected my worldview and made me more self-centered. I have to think much harder about my path, destination, needs, abilities, and limits, which can make me feel flustered or overwhelmed at times.
When I smile or share a pleasant exchange with someone around me, it distracts me from my tendency to overthink by forcing my brain to focus on others instead of on the reality that I’m in a wheelchair.
I’m not saying I force a giant smile like a mask every time I leave the comfort of my home, just that it’s an easy way to brighten my day, spread joy, encourage acceptance, and, hopefully, make the world a little sunnier. After all, most of us are just doing our best, and smiling is a free way to keep that going.
“Therefore, comfort yourselves together, and strengthen one another, even as you do.” — 1 Thessalonians 5:11
Note: Friedreich’s Ataxia News is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or another qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Friedreich’s Ataxia News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to Friedreich’s ataxia.
Leave a comment
Fill in the required fields to post. Your email address will not be published.