No One Talks About How Moving Breaks You. Especially if you're disabled.
Disability justice includes the boring stuff. Like moving. Like surviving it.
Between Boxes and Burnout.
It’s been a lot lately. My wife and I just moved to a new spot in Chicago (Rogers Park). Moving is one of those universal nightmares we all go through at some point; even though we know we must do it, we still dread it.
Hot take: I seriously think folks should get five business days off just for moving. No questions. It’s a full-on logistical mess — packing, hauling, hiring movers (or begging friends), rent, security deposits, broken lamps, mystery bruises… all of it. And no one talks about how emotionally draining it is, either. People expect you to power through like it’s no big deal, but honestly? This move wiped us out.
Moving exposes the world as inaccessible, even when you’re just trying to change your zip code.
Over the last 5 weeks of moving, I managed to tear my pec on the right side of my chest, roll my ankle, and develop carpal tunnel in my right hand. You know, just your average, traditional moving injuries.
But this is precisely why conversations around disability justice must include mundane stuff, like moving. Accessibility isn’t just about ramps or doorways. It’s about time, rest, support, and systems that acknowledge how disabled people live day to day.
Being disabled in this country means constantly bumping up against systems that weren’t made for us. And now, with folks in power trying to roll back our rights, it feels even heavier.
Take this move, for example. What should’ve been a regular (already stressful) process turned into a five-week saga complete with injuries and flare-ups, torn muscle, rolled ankle, carpal tunnel, you name it. And the wild part is that’s not even surprising. When your body’s unpredictable and society gives you zero buffer, even moving can feel like a full-body betrayal.
It’s already hard enough trying to get through the day when your joints won’t cooperate, let alone fighting for basic respect and protection. Some days, it feels like too much, but we keep going. We have to.
Moving is just one example, but it reminded me how much we all need each other. If you’ve got the energy, lend it. If you don’t, ask for help. Disabled or not, we’re all trying to survive in a world that rarely slows down for anyone.
Let’s lift each other up. Kindness is free, and it matters more than ever.
Definitely a good reminder that we don't always see what people go through