A three step journey for the hard of hearing

May is a month that’s full of chronic illness/disability awareness, so it’s a busy month for me as I’ve collected chronic illnesses like Pokémon. It’s not that I’m not aware of my own disabilities, but like many others who struggle with their own realities from time to time, it can be hard to allow myself to think about it.

I found out about my hearing loss in 2018 when I was studying at uni to be a pilot - so, you know, the most convenient time for it! During my study, I decided that joining the air force was what I wanted, but during my final medical testing the doctor there suggested I see a specialist after he analysed my test scores.

Step One: Hide the Problem

I lived in denial for a while but at the insistence of my partner, I went to see an audiologist - lo and behold I ended up with a pair of hearing aids not four months later. 

I, like many others, have only ever seen hearing aids and other devices as things that Old People use, not something a twenty-year-old gets given. And so, like many before me, I succumbed to the ableist ideas that I should be ashamed of my aids, making sure they were either well hidden, or simply not worn if they could be seen.

It isn’t just society that perpetuates the idea that hearing aids are for the elderly or the adorable babies, but audiology professionals also. When it comes to choosing the colour and style for hearing aids, you’re treated to a variety of colours that range from black to brown, with silver thrown in there for a surprise. When children come in and are tested, they are not generally offered sign language as an option, but rather given the option of hear or nothing.

Now, there’s nothing inherently bad about hearing aids - they’re especially good in many situations, but I am saying that the lack of deaf awareness is pretty astonishing.

For the first year of having hearing aids, I made sure they weren’t too visible when I was wearing them, and refused to wear them when I knew I would be going to nice places because in my head, the words ‘fancy’ and ‘beautiful’ were not synonymous with ‘hard of hearing’.

Step Two: Attempt Neutrality, Consider Positivity

I learnt to love my hearing aids towards the end of that first year where I found some amazing Deaf YouTubers to follow, and surprisingly a large community of Deaf people on Instagram. Watching and listening to people explain why they’re so proud of their identity as a Deaf person helped me initially with finding Neutral Feelings toward my hearing aids, and eventually I found love in them.

I’ve had them now for three years and I have had so many incredible experiences as a result. My best friend took me to a wildlife park and let me sit for far too long just listening to birds I had never heard before. I remember my partner singing to me for the first time after I got my hearing aids and I cried because I had never really heard it before. I have been a mentor on a camp where my team members let me stand in the middle of Belair National Park for far too long listening to frogs make their frog noises - who knew frogs did that?

Wearing them more often is absolutely a part of this newfound love and confidence I have in my identity, but removing them when I need to is as well. Things are loud - especially if you’re not used to hearing them, so I get overwhelmed quite easily. I used to force myself to suffer through this overwhelm because if hearing people can do it, I have to as well. Now, though, I let myself take them off and acknowledge that I’m just tired or done for the day and I allow myself to be okay with that.

Step Three: Turns Out Acceptance is an Option

Accepting yourself and your hearing aids – or any medical/mobility aid for that matter - is not always going to be a simple and quick process. There might be ups and downs, even when you think you’re perfectly alright; I still have panic attacks going to job interviews while wearing them visibly because I worry I’ll be rejected from the job because of them. 

An important aspect of finding the path to accepting yourself is also finding people that accept you - whether that’s family, friends or an online community, every person who is on your side is one more counter-argument to the internalised ableism that’s running through your mind.

Being disabled, having mobility aids, hearing aids, cochlear implants, medical devices - fidget toys, even! - does not make you any less beautiful or any less capable. You are still an incredible, hard-working human and regardless of what people say or do, you are doing your best and I, along with countless others, am proud of you.