By Isabelle Jani-Friend in The Guardian.
I was recently on a packed Central line train into London. Luckily, I managed to take the last priority disabled seat. My osteoporosis and the fatigue I experience meant it would be hard for me to stand for the 40-minute journey to Oxford Circus. I felt a sense of relief that I had managed to find a space. That was until I was approached by a middle-aged woman, who quite confidently asked me to move in order to give up my seat for an elderly passenger.
Of course, I thought, the elderly passenger deserves a seat. But I do too, although it’s not immediately obvious why. With other passengers shaking their heads and murmuring comments of disapproval, and me too embarrassed to make a claim for the seat, I moved. It’s true that I appear well, but standing for a prolonged period of time left me feeling weak and in pain. That said, I am used to keeping quiet.
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