After thatto graduatecollege, Jacqueline Child — like so many other busy Americans in their 20s trying to find a partner or a relationship — has dove into the turbulent world of dating apps. A few weeks after I started actively trying to meet someone in 2019, Matched with a guy on Bumble. When they decided to meet in person, he suggested they go for a walk. Jacqueline responded by telling him that she was recovering from a surgery, so a picnic would be better.
When he asked about the surgery, Jacqueline told him he had a connective tissue disorder. She then replied: “Well… I hope you’re not planning on having kids because that would be really selfish. That’s how genetics works.”
This was just one of dozens of offensive messages Colorado native Jacqueline had to digest as she tried to navigate the toxic world of dating culture as a woman with a disability or chronic illness. And this particular message isn’t that unusual; As a young stroke survivor, I’ve been told this before by strangers on the internet.
Disabled people trying to enter the age of online dating have to deal with much more than ignorant comments. There are personal safety concerns (especially for those with physical disabilities) and difficulties navigating online dating platforms. And there’s a lot more pressure on what most people consider the fun part: meeting in person in the hopes that online dating will translate into real life.
I don’t know anyone who actually enjoys dating apps, disabled or not. For most of us, they are merely a means to an end. It’s exhausting to have to market yourself online with a perfectly curated profile, deal with frequent rejections, and spend hours interacting with strangers you’ll never meet.
Those of us with disabilities or chronic illnesses also have to deal with the anxiety that comes with not knowing how the match will react. How do I tell them? When will I tell them? Will they ghost or reject me immediately? Anxiety about revealing a disability can be paralyzing in itself.
Jacqueline, who had been called a “burden” many times, began to feel unworthy of a romantic relationship. One day in 2021, she told her older sister, Alexa, that she wished there was a legitimate, free dating app. specially designed For disabled and chronically ill patients. Seeing that Jacqueline had struggled with hurtful words for years, Alexa responded, “Let’s do it ourselves.”
Dateability, an app developed by sisters Jacqueline and Alexa Child, wants to be “an inclusive place where people feel safe and important” for people with disabilities.
In October 2022, sisterIt launched a free app called Dateability in North America. By the end of 2023, they have 11,000 members, from wheelchair users to people with compromised immune systems and even non-disabled allies.
“We want to be an inclusive place where people feel safe and feel important,” Jacqueline said.
The decision to welcome non-disabled allies in their practices, from not wanting to send the important and underrated message that disabled people should only date other disabled people. “[Disabled people] “They are free to love whoever they want, and they deserve it,” Alexa said. “But it’s a good way to filter out people who would discriminate against disability.”
Personally, I wholeheartedly agree with the sisters’ decision to include non-disabled people on this platform because I am very open to being with a partner who can do things I physically cannot. I’ve always been hesitant about dating apps, though, because I’m a hopeless romantic with a nostalgic penchant for sweet dates and chance encounters. I have no idea what I’m looking for or, frankly, if anyone is looking for someone like me.
Still, for the sake of good journalism, if nothing else, I had to check out this app.
I recently downloaded the app, created a profile, added a few photos, and started swiping. The app lacked the sleek, modern aesthetic of some mainstream apps, but it was quite user-friendly, efficient, and accessible on more devices than my mobile phone. But as I scrolled, I saw a few of the same faces appear again.
Because Dateability is relatively new and caters to a minority demographic (although largest minority The pool of potential matches that matched my demographic), age, and location preferences was understandably limited. Speaking of minorities, there wasn’t much racial diversity either, but I wasn’t surprised: The stigma around disability in immigrant communities (as well as other communities of color) is a huge deterrent to coming out publicly about a disability.
But there was a seemingly innocuous element that made this app a true game-changer. While filling out routine questions about age, height, and location, I came across a question titled “Datatability Details.” He then gave me a pretty comprehensive list of options to broadly describe my disability, chronic illness, or lack thereof.
There was actually a box with the correct identifier for me to select: ambulatory wheelchair user. This statement appeared at the bottom of my profile along with all my other personal details. It was so liberating to know that whoever I matched with would already know and be okay with that part of my identity—just like my listed political affiliation or religion.
“With the ‘Datatability Details’ question, there’s no need for an awkward clarification discussion,” Alexa said.
By making an injury or chronic illness no longer something that needs to be explained, it helps remove some of the stigma that comes with it. In this field, our disabilities become a sign of identity, not something to be ashamed of.
“If we can be open and normalize disability, not only will our community benefit because we will see ourselves as more valuable, but people outside of our community will also see us that way,” Jacqueline said.
In 2024, Jacqueline and Alexa plan to work on design and technology issues that will increase the app’s accessibility in North America and other parts of the world. As Dateability grows, I hope it continues to become more inclusive, which may require some thoughtful outreach to people with disabilities of color.
Having single people of each type on this app will help ensure that, as a community, we don’t deliberately isolate ourselves to the fringes of society (the disability-unfriendly world does enough of that for us already). Many of us want to be here, but only in a dating world where there is more empathy, acceptance, and accessibility.