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The Myth of the “Good Blind” and Why It’s Holding Us Back

  • Writer: Sakshi Srivastava
    Sakshi Srivastava
  • May 8
  • 2 min read

A young man crossing the street with a cane in one hand and a guide dog in the other.

Table of Contents:


Key Takeaways:


  • Blindness isn’t the end of the story—it’s just a new chapter.

  • There’s the expectation that every blind person should be a loud, relentless advocate for accessibility.


Introduction


Let’s get something straight: there’s no “right” way to be blind.Yet, for some reason, the blind and visually impaired (BVI) community continues to carry the weight of a myth—the idea that there’s an acceptable or “ideal” way to navigate life without sight. And guess what? That myth isn’t just unhelpful; it’s damaging. 


As someone who started identifying with disability at 19, I’ve spent years battling the silent pressures of being a “good blind.” But let me tell you a secret: the concept is an illusion. And the sooner we, as a community, admit that to ourselves, the freer we’ll be. 


The “Rules” of Blindness 


Here’s the thing: if you’re blind, there’s a set of unwritten rules about how you should act, dress, move, and even advocate for yourself. You’re supposed to carry a white cane, but for six years, I didn’t. Not because I had some grand statement to make, but because no one told me I needed it. Maybe it’s because I live in India, where canes come with a heavy stigma attached, but the fact remains: I just didn’t think it applied to me. 

 


Illustration of a human head profile cutout made from wood, with a geometric shape representing the brain filled with the word 'BIAS' repeated multiple times in bold text over a red and white segmented background.


And don’t get me started on the makeup stereotype. Blind women aren’t “supposed” to care about how they look—right? Well, I do. I wear makeup, and I love it. Does that make me less blind? Does it invalidate my disability? 

 

Then there’s the expectation that every blind person should be a loud, relentless advocate for accessibility. Don’t get me wrong—advocacy is essential, but I spent years in the dark (pun intended) about what “acceptable levels” of inclusion even meant. Growing up sighted, I didn’t fully grasp the standards or where to start. Does that make me a bad blind person? 

 

The answer is no. But for years, I believed otherwise. 


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