If Both Sides Are Mad, I Must Be Doing Something Right

I’ve spent most of my life confusing people. One minute someone’s calling me “too

conservative,” the next minute I’m “too liberal.” Honestly, if I had a dollar for every time I heard that, I’d never have to buy my own iced latte again. I’d have an Elliano’s gift card so loaded, they’d have to name a drink after me.

It started young. I was the church girl who could quote Scripture but also rolled my eyes when people acted like showing up every Sunday made them saints. I loved sweet tea on the porch, but I also believed women deserved more options than “marry young, get a husband, and lock down a stable job.” (Bless their heart, they thought they were doing me a favor. Meanwhile, I was dreaming about living bigger than the box they had planned for me.)

Me at the beach wearing a purple ponytail

When I stepped into advocacy, things only got spicier. Conservatives thought I was too bold, rocking the boat like big speakers on a pontoon. Y’all better hang on to your solo cups. Liberals thought I was too rooted, still loving my hometown and my faith. Everyone wanted me in some kind of uniform, red blazer, blue blazer. Meanwhile, I’m out here in a "Purple Rain" coat print, twirling like Prince, saying, “No thanks, this is Sassy Frass couture.”

Conservatives clutch their pearls when I speak up. Liberals give side-eye at my Jesus playlist. And I mean, yes ma’am, I can fight for accessibility and still have Jesus Take the Wheel followed immediately by AC/DC on shuffle. It’s called balance. Try it sometime.

Here’s the truth: I don’t belong to a side. I belong to my story. I belong to the people I fight for. Disability doesn’t fit neatly into red or blue boxes. It doesn’t care about hashtags, headlines, or whether my mama thinks I should “tone it down” a little.

So yeah, I’ll keep confusing y’all. I’ll keep being too much for some and not enough for others. Because if everyone’s comfortable, nothing changes. And if nothing changes, I’ve wasted my breath.

At the end of the day, I’d rather be a little “too much” than not enough. I’d rather take the honks in the middle of the road than sit parked in somebody else’s box. Besides, if life’s a highway? Honey, I’ve got snacks, a playlist that makes both sides uncomfortable, and enough sass in the passenger seat to make sure we never get bored.