AftergraduatingCollege, Jacqueline Child – like so many busy Americans 20-something else trying to find a partner or hookup – plunged into the exciting world of dating apps. In 2019, a few weeks after she started actively trying to meet someone, she matched with 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 surgery, so a picnic would be better.
When he inquired about the operation, Jacqueline told him she had a connective tissue disorder. He then replied, “Well… I hope you don’t plan on having children because that would be very selfish. That’s how genetics works.”
This was just one of the many 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 that particular message isn’t all that uncommon — as a young stroke survivor, I’ve also been told it by strangers online.
People with disabilities trying to enter the online dating era have to deal with a lot more than ignorant comments. There are concerns about personal safety (especially for people with physical disabilities) and the difficulty of navigating online dating platforms. And there’s a lot more pressure involved in what most people consider the fun part: meeting in person in hopes that the online flirtation will translate into real life.
I don’t know anyone, disabled or not, who enjoys dating apps. For most of us, they are just a means to an end. Having to market yourself online with a well-kept profile, deal with frequent rejections and invest hours trying to hook up with strangers you’ll never meet – it’s really tiring.
Those of us with disabilities or chronic illnesses have to deal with the anxiety that comes with not knowing how a game will respond. How can I tell them? When do I tell them? Will they ghost right away or reject me? The anxiety of disclosing the disability can be paralyzing in itself.
After being called a “burden” too many times, Jacqueline felt that she might not be worthy of a romantic relationship. One day in 2021, she told her older sister, Alexa, that she wished there was a legit and free app specifically designed for disabled and chronically ill people. Alexa, who has seen Jacqueline struggle with hurtful remarks for years, replied, “Let’s do it ourselves.”
Dateability, an app created 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, the sisters launched a free app called Dateability in North America. At the end of 2023, they have 11,000 members, from wheelchair users to the immunocompromised to even non-disabled allies.
“We want to be an inclusive place where people feel safe and important,” said Jacqueline.
The decision came to welcome non-disabled allies on their app from not wanting to send the important and underrated message that people with disabilities should only date other people with disabilities. “[Disabled people] they are free to love whoever they want and they deserve it,” said Alexa. “But this is a good way to screen out people who would discriminate against disabilities.”
Personally, I fully agree with the sisters’ decision to include non-disabled people on this platform, as I am very open to being with a partner who can do things that I cannot physically do. However, I’ve always been hesitant to do dating apps because I’m a hopeless romantic with a nostalgic desire for cute and flirtatious encounters. I have no real idea what I’m looking for, or, to put it plainly, if anyone is looking for someone like me.
Still, I had to check this app out, if nothing else, for the sake of good journalism.
So, I recently downloaded the app, created a profile, added a few photos and started swiping. The app didn’t have the sleek, streamlined aesthetic of some mainstream apps, but it was easy to use, efficient, and accessible on more devices than my cell phone. As I was swiping, however, I saw some of the same faces pop up again.
Because Dateability is relatively new and caters to a minority demographic (although the majority minority demographic), there was a limit to the number of possible matches that corresponded to my age and location preferences. And speaking of minorities, there wasn’t much racial diversity either, but this didn’t surprise me: Stigma against disability in immigrant communities (among other communities of color) is a barrier to people being publicly disabled .
But there was one innocuous feature that made this app a bona fide game changer. While filling out the usual questions about age, height and location, I came across a question titled, “Dateability Deets.” He then gave an extensive list of options to broadly describe my disability, chronic illness or lack thereof.
There was actually a box with an accurate descriptor for me to choose from: ambulatory wheelchair user. The phrase appeared at the bottom of my profile along with all of my other personal details. It’s been so freeing, knowing that whoever matches me will already know this part of my identity – just like my political affiliation or my listed religion – and be fine with it.
“With the issue of ‘Dateability Deets,’ there’s no need for any awkward discussions about disclosure,” Alexa said.
By making a disability or chronic illness no longer necessary to disclose, it helps to eradicate some of the stigma associated with it. In this space, our disabilities become a sign of identity as opposed to something we would be ashamed of.
“If we can be open and normalize disability, not only will our community benefit because we will see ourselves as more worthy people, but also people outside our community will see us that way too,” said Jacqueline.
In 2024, Jacqueline and Alexa plan to work on design and technology features that will expand the app’s accessibility in North America and other regions of the world. As Dateability grows, I hope it continues to be even more inclusive, which may require some thoughtful outreach to people with disabilities of color.
Having all kinds of singles on this app will help ensure that we, as a community, aren’t willfully segregating on the fringes of society (the disability-unfriendly world does that to us a lot anyway). Many of us wish we were out here – except in a compassionate world with more compassion, acceptance and accessibility.