Layla Guse Salah (above) has a bone to pick with the Charlatan after it printed an Overheard at Carleton that she believes fuels negative stereotypes about disabled people (Photo Provided)

Back in December the Charlatan printed a comment in its “Overheard at Carleton” section that read: “I’m sure there are people who have raped the disabled.”

As a disabled young woman, I was heartbroken and outraged to see that type of comment published in my school's paper for 20,000-plus students to see.

I struggle with self-esteem issues that are focused on my disability and I often wonder whether or not it's even possible to meet someone who'll see past it and fall in love with me.

I was enraged that I had to see this private battle taunting me in my student newspaper. It didn’t belong there in such an empty, provocative way, without context or any attempt to explore the issue in a constructive fashion.

I fought back tears and, as I calmed down, began to re-evaluate my lack of romantic history. The way the chips have fallen so far, it’s just never happened for me. But reading those words, I began to wonder if this reality is out of my control. What if others see my disability as a barrier to romance?

I began to reflect upon the role every significant male has played in my life, wondering why each relationship has followed more or less the same path. I have many wonderful men in my life, all of whom I love dearly. It’s not like I curse my friendships. I’m not mad at this guy or that guy for not falling in love with me, or asking me out on a date. But why am I always the best friend and never the one who is seen as just a bit more than that?

Recently I've come to a rather startling conclusion: It might not matter how outgoing I am, how many offers of coffee or lunch I extend or how many phone numbers I ask for (and receive).

If there is a mental block on the part of the other person, something in his mind that prohibits or stops him from thinking of me in a romantic light, then there's nothing I can do. I can only be the one who puts the signals out for so long before it becomes less about the signals put out by me, and more about how they're received by the person on the other end.

Flirting is a two-way street. There might be nothing I can do about how people perceive me. If there’s a mental block because of the disability, I might be limited in my abilities to affect how far past it others are able to see.

Am I doomed then, to never know what it's like to be in love with a man, and have that man be in love with me? I hope not. But I worry.

There's a stupid and unfounded assumption that people with disabilities are asexual, that they have no urges or desires at all. Or, if not asexual, then there seems to be this idea that one with a disability would only ever fall in love with another with a disability.

There are numerous couples where both involved are disabled. But able-bodied/disabled relationships exist too, just as interracial relationships do. Reading about the probability of someone with a disability being raped makes me extremely sad.

I started worrying long before I saw that quote in the Charlatan that I was broken and unlovable. I cursed my disability for keeping me from an aspect of life I believed (and still do) it is holding me back from.

But I began to think: what if it’s true? I want to wash my brain out even as I think it, but what if I never get to experience intimacy in a loving way? What if rape or being taken advantage of is the closest I could come? It makes me sick but I can't make the thought go away. I wish I didn't think that way. I wish I could stop myself, but I can't.