I've always loved Sleeping Beauty. And I hear grumbling about her passive-heroine storyline, and how sad that she's stuck waiting for rescue. And modern writers empower her to sieze her own fate. She gets common sense, or a loophole, or a trick up her sleeve so she can save herself. Because the best heroines save themselves. And I'm not saying that she has a disability (though perhaps sleeping for 100 years is a bit disabling). No, I saw her today as a metaphor for the disability experience.
Because I am sleeping in a castle. I am far from help. I am surrounded by thorns, and walls, and stealthy dragons. I am stuck. And I cannot rescue myself.
My 'princes' are the scientists working towards a cure. They are the fund-raisers and activists and good people trying to understand this rare disease. And until we unravel the mystery of this "magical spell" in my genetics, I must wait. I cannot fix myself. I find the beauty in thorns and befriend the dragons. And I hope my stories are obsolete one day. I hope I become a 'once upon a time' story.
Until then, I understand her. Sleeping. Waiting. Dreaming.