There’s a fine line between confidence and camouflage for everyone. Navigating life with a mobility difference blends those two elements so often, it’s tricky to discern one from the other.
Dress for success? Wear a power color? That’s all part of confidence and fitting into modern culture. Dress to minimize mobility aids, or orchestrate an outing to ensure support devices blend into the background? That’s a form of camouflage I’ve learned to incorporate over the years.
I’ve never wanted people to meet my mobility issue first. My goal is for people to meet ME. Sure, my gait is different. I have mild cerebral palsy and have celebrated over seven decades of birthdays, so I reckon with my mobility daily. Some days are better than others. And that’s Life, for each of us.
It helps that I am not shy with my opinions. I am naturally a pretty confident person. Colleagues and friends have often said, “Oh thank goodness for you. You say what I’m thinking!”
But the truth is, it takes time to create relationships when a mobility difference is in the mix. I learned at a young age that my condition concerned others. When I finally finagled a date with an upperclassman in high school after two years of pining after him, he confided, “You made me nervous. I thought you were in pain.” Really?! Sheesh! Ask a person!
That interchange was a lesson for me. I realized I need to be proactive. I need to reassure others. I need to be confident in my abilities beyond balance, walking, or movement. Cerebral palsy is only part of my story. That’s where camouflage comes in — and no, I’m not talking about wearing colors that help me blend into the environment. After all, I favor bright colors at the warm end of the spectrum.
Rather, I seek camouflage in physical settings. It all comes down to being seen through the lens of capability, rather than a mobility difference. Spasticity strikes at the most inconvenient moments! As an educator before I retired, or now in our community when I am involved in public speaking, I make certain I am close to the front (and usually early), so I don’t have to walk a great distance with an audience. I always sit behind a row of chairs to assist with standing, or with a table or podium close at hand for balance.
Physical balance — or the challenge of it — has been a constant in my life. I am known for some very public falls, often tripping over slight terrain changes owing to pronounced foot drop. I am fortunate. I learned to ‘tuck and roll’ early. I rarely hurt myself physically, but my dignity suffers. Going to new places, I could almost always count on having a spill. It got so I would say, “If I go anywhere new, I have to bow down and kiss the ground sometime during my visit!” Humor, in addition to confidence and camouflage, always helps.
The good news is the Cionic Neural Sleeve has all but eliminated those falls. My gait is more fluid. I have more energy for daily activities. My foot drop (that pesky tripping agent!) is managed with the functional electrical stimulation administered from the sleeve.
Confidence and camouflage are very tightly wound–two strands of the same thread, colored in different hues. Now those threads are entwined with flexible wire, embedded in Cionic’s Neural Sleeve. The sleeve improves my gait, enhancing my confidence in both old and new settings. Simply put: wearing the sleeve is life-changing!
I am still partial to camouflage. I dress to minimize the sleeve now, in dresses and boots, or long skirts. But who doesn’t love a new style? The difference from mobility aids of the past is that now I’ll show the sleeve to anyone who’s interested… with confidence!
This is a user story from a Cionic customer, who has not been compensated to share their story. Individual results and experiences may vary. Consult with your doctor on treatment decisions.
