What Romances by Disabled Authors Do Differently

Romance can be a fraught genre for disabled readers and authors. “Conventionally attractive” has often meant white, thin, straight, and non-disabled. Some romance novels emphasize physical stamina and acrobatic positions. When I was younger, this focus made me feel insecure, as if sex and romance were only possible for non-disabled people. There’s also the ableist literary stereotype of disability as worse than death, like in Me Before You.

For many years, prevalent, ableist language and stereotypes in books made me hesitant to read romances with disabled characters. This has started to change only in the past few years, as more books by disabled authors get published. Disability informs many aspects of someone’s life. When disabled authors write disabled characters, they often incorporate important aspects of everyday life with disabilities, such as ableist microaggressions, or medical appointments and symptoms.

Writing Disability in YA Romance

Keah Brown has written for years about bias in the romance genre and its negative effect on her in adolescence. Her 2019 essay collection The Pretty One delves deeper into ableism and racism in pop culture. In 2023, she published The Secret Summer Promise, a queer YA romance about Andrea and her best friend Hailee. For disabled teens like Andrea, recovering from surgeries can disrupt entire summers and relationships. Parents may choose to schedule surgeries during the summer break, rather than during the school year.

Even a small moment of connection can give a young person the courage to try a relationship. Dhonielle Clayton’s story “Dear Nora James, You Know Nothing About Love” was published in the 2018 YA anthology Unbroken: 13 Stories Starring Disabled Teens, edited by Marieke Nijkamp. Nora is a high school student who writes a dating advice column. Ironically, she hasn’t yet dated anyone. After she spends most of a date in the bathroom with IBS, her date, Marcus, gives her ginger ale, which she’d said helped her symptoms.

Centering the Lived Experiences of Disabled Authors

Fun romance tropes often play out in inaccessible ways. Dating and intimacy require access and transportation. For disabled people, this often means careful planning (such as bringing medications), with less spontaneity. When environments are inaccessible, it’s harder to meet a new love interest, let alone spend the night or move in with them. Miscommunication can be distressing to a neurodivergent character who’s already frequently misunderstood.

Most fiction never even considers the logistics of moving through the world with disabilities. Even when writers aren’t trying to be exclusive, many romances seemingly take place in an alternate reality where disability and ableism don’t exist. That’s why lived experiences of disabled authors are so crucial and intimate.

It’s All in Your Head by Sabina Nordqvist is an adult romance between Skylar, who has IIH (idiopathic intracranial hypertension), and Pike, a former Olympic snowboarder who became disabled in a snowboarding accident. The fun tropes are here (fake dating, secret celebrity, only one bed), but in a way that acknowledges the characters’ disabilities. The Upstate New York setting means the characters are in frequent danger of slipping and falling on ice and snow. There are sex scenes on the page, and certain positions are inaccessible for the characters.

Consent as the Bare Minimum

Many recent romances emphasize clear consent and boundaries. This is the minimum. Respect and boundaries also include access needs. Disabilities shouldn’t be deal-breakers or obstacles to relationships. In The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang, another adult romance with steamy scenes, Stella initially feels self-conscious about her lack of romantic and sexual experience. She’s autistic and uncomfortable with casual touch and indirect communication. Like many other readers, I loved this novel’s emphasis on consent as Stella and Michael learn each other’s boundaries.

As Kendra Winchester wrote in 2025, romances by disabled authors fight harmful stereotypes. Many of these stereotypes are decades old and beyond the scope of this article. For example, no one is a hero or a saint for dating a disabled person. No one deserves a partner who fetishizes their disabilities or makes them feel like a burden. So, it’s a huge relief to read romances in which disabled characters and their partners navigate relationships as equals.

Want More Recommendations for Diverse Romances?

Rachel Brittain recently explored how new Jane Austen retellings may reflect marginalized authors’ desires to see themselves in their favorite classic stories. Make sure to also check out this list of romance reads we rounded up last year for Disability Pride Month, perfect for reading any time of year.