Love, Disability, and the Evolution of Commitment

When I married my dear husband, Edward (Ed) Ruh, in 1982, I didn’t realize he lived with a disability. As a little boy, Ed was hit by a car and sustained a traumatic brain injury so severe it stopped his heart. He was clinically dead for several minutes before being revived and spent about ten days in a coma. When he returned to school, he was forever changed — though back then, no one used the word disability. They simply told him to move on, to “be normal.”

Years into our marriage, I began noticing changes in his brain — subtle shifts in memory and mood that eventually became early dementia. I didn’t connect it then to his childhood injury, but I understand now that it shaped his life, his mind, and ultimately, our journey together. He passed the year of our 40th anniversary. I miss him deeply, but I wouldn’t change a thing. His love was a gift — imperfect, enduring, profoundly human.

❤️ A New Chapter Under the Moon

A few months after Ed’s passing, the universe introduced me to Gary Wright — and yes, I found Mr. Wright. He isn’t perfect (and neither am I). He has his challenges, just like I do. But he brings kindness, creativity, and laughter into my life in ways I didn’t expect.

We each carried the wisdom of long marriages and loss. Neither of us wanted to recreate the past. Instead, we found something new: a partnership that honors individuality and freedom. We even had our own “moon light ceremony,” as Gary calls it — a private, spiritual way of affirming our commitment without legal formality. It was simple, honest, and deeply romantic.

We are partners by choice, not by contract. We support each other, our families, and our shared purpose in life. I loved being married, but I don’t need marriage anymore to know I’m loved — or to love fully in return.

♿ Proudly a Woman with Disabilities

For much of my life, I didn’t realize that I, too, am a person with disabilities. In my mid-50s, I was diagnosed as neurodiverse — with ADHD, dyslexia, and directional dyslexia.

Please don’t ask me which way is left or right! I’ll pause, glance down, and make an “L” with my hand to check — then laugh at myself. My brain might zig and zag, but it’s also brilliant in other ways. I see patterns, connections, and creative possibilities others might miss. My ADHD can rev me up — that “zing” that sends me chasing a thousand ideas and forgetting to breathe. But it also fuels my imagination, empathy, and drive to make the world better.

Being neurodiverse has taught me compassion — for myself and for others whose brains or bodies don’t fit the so-called norm. It’s all part of being human.

💞 Love, Rights, and Human Messiness

My daughter Sara, now 38 and born with Down syndrome, dreams of marriage. She wants what so many of us do — connection, partnership, love. Yet even now, people with disabilities often face limits on those dreams.

All over the world — and even here in the United States — many people with disabilities have been denied the legal right to marry simply because they are disabled. Some have lost essential benefits if they wed; others have faced guardianship restrictions that stripped them of the freedom to say “I do.” I know of a courageous woman with Down syndrome here in Virginia who fought the legal system and won the right to marry the man she loved. But many others have not been as fortunate.

We must never forget that for too long, love itself has been a privilege reserved for the “able.” True inclusion means changing that — ensuring that every person, of every ability, has the right to partnership, intimacy, and belonging.

And as we build artificial intelligence, that truth must guide us. AI will learn from the data we feed it — but it should also learn from our human messiness: the joy, imperfection, humor, and tenderness that make us who we are. We must teach AI that disability is not a flaw to fix, but a natural part of life’s design.

🌎 The Future of Love and Inclusion

As our world changes, so does the meaning of commitment. Marriage is no longer the only definition of love. It can be a moon light ceremony, a lifelong friendship, or simply showing up — for each other, for our children, and for the causes that matter.

If AI is to reflect humanity, let’s make sure it learns the right lessons: that perfection isn’t the goal — connection is. That love transcends formality, labels, and logic. And that every mind, every body, and every way of loving adds its own light to the human story.

Because love — like inclusion — isn’t a privilege. It’s our birthright. And it’s the most human thing we have.

#HumanizingAI #WeAreBillionStrong