Every time I rejoin Tinder or another dating site, I am faced with the dreaded questions of whether to include my disability in my profile.Often, I omit the fact and only disclose it after a potential match gets to know me a little.I would like to say I am still being authentic, but in truth I am not.I am performing an edited version of myself; the socially acceptable one that platonic and romantic prospects seem to connect with.It is as if, by only mentioning my interests and goals — l am a foodie, history and art buff, and lover of long conversations — I am using my dating app descriptions to scream: "Look, I am just like you Tiredness from pretending that I don't have a disability, and after a long time desperately trying to follow the rules of what is "normal" in dating, that in hindsight were not actually written anywhere and enforced by no-one but me.With this disclosure comes the dreaded, unspoken "please still like me" and the questioning of whether I have characterised my disability in an abled-body-friendly way (not too off-putting?)