‘He Makes Me Better:’ Inter-Abled Gay Couple Finds Love Amid Life’s Curveballs
 

Throughout his life, Dr. N.J. Akbar has become something of an expert in overcoming personal challenges.

Labeled “dumb” by an elementary school teacher, the 37-year-old eventually earned a doctorate, a high-ranking administrative position at one of the largest universities in Ohio, and a seat as the president of Akron Public Schools’ Board of Education.

But it was in a very private area of his life where this very public figure faced one of his most unique challenges and earned one of his most fulfilling rewards.

Just before the pandemic, Akbar, who is fully mobile, met and fell in love with his partner Alex Mayweather, 30, who uses a wheelchair.

Forming a partnership forced both men to do some soul-searching. Mayweather, a social butterfly still coming to terms with the unexpected loss of his mobility, worried about maintaining his independence. Akbar questioned how he would adjust to the realities of a partner for whom a single stair could be an insurmountable obstacle.

For Akbar and Mayweather, who have adjusted both to mobility issues and Akbar’s busy public life, there is no question whether love conquers all.

Yet two years in, the pair has thrived, moving into a cozy one-level home and planning a 125-guest wedding in May.

Their union is just one example of an inter-abled relationship, a pairing between an able-bodied person and a partner living with anything from vision loss to quadriplegia.

Such unions bring to the forefront touchy questions about socializing, intimacy, and just what “in sickness and in health” really means.

For Akbar and Mayweather, who have adjusted both to mobility issues and Akbar’s busy public life, there is no question whether love conquers all.

“I decided that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him,” says Akbar, who proposed in April with a Louis Vuitton scarf standing in for a ring. “He was such a beautiful person, he made me better.”

Third Time’s a Charm

Ask Akbar and Mayweather to reflect on how they became a couple and you’re in for a lively conversation.

Akbar remembers first seeing Mayweather at a birthday party eight years ago. He recalls a talkative socialite who flitted around the party dancing so much he didn’t notice the pensive academic checking him out.

“He didn’t really give me any attention,” Akbar says.

Mayweather remembers it more like he was too preoccupied enjoying the party to notice anyone but the most aggressive suitors.

“He didn’t make his attention known,” Mayweather says, with his trademark wit. “I’ve always been the person to chase the aggressive guy. When you’re all over the room, you don’t notice the lamp in the corner.”

That evening passed without a love connection. As luck would have it, they crossed paths again at a Cleveland Starbucks, where Mayweather worked as a manager and Akbar went to sip and study.

Akbar enjoyed free coffee from the cute barista. Mayweather enjoyed extra tips.

“Back then I was in a relationship, so I would flirt, I would smile, I would give him free coffee—and I would take the tips home to me and my man,” Mayweather says with a chuckle.

It would be 2019 before the two finally formed a connection that stuck. By then, a lot had changed, for better and for worse.

Akbar remembers first seeing Mayweather at a birthday party eight years ago. He recalls a talkative socialite who flitted around the party dancing so much he didn’t notice the pensive academic checking him out.

Akbar had completed his doctorate and had risen through the ranks at Kent State University; he’s currently an Associate Vice President for Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion at the northeastern Ohio school.

That year would also see him elected to the Akron Public Schools Board of Education, serving first as vice president and, starting in 2021, president.

Just as things were looking up for the little Detroit boy who didn’t read until he was in the third grade, Mayweather’s life was taking a turn.

A skin cancer diagnosis led to chemotherapy, which lowered his immune system so much that he developed a catastrophic brain infection. By December 2018, he was forced to enter the hospital. He wouldn’t leave until June 2019.

“I walked myself in,” he says, “and they wheeled me out.”

The infection claimed his left-side mobility, his relationship, and his independence: Mayweather had to move in with his mother while he recovered.

“I was my friends’ Superman. If they needed something done, I was the one they called,” says Mayweather, who is still emotionally adjusting to the change. “I went from doing everything for everyone to now everyone does stuff for me.”

Just as things seemed dimmer than ever, a light emerged in the form of a direct message on Facebook. It was the Starbucks guy, Akbar.

“He remembered me as the cute barista that gave him free coffee,” Mayweather says.

The social media network had suggested Mayweather as someone Akbar might know. Akbar shot his shot, and the pair spent the next several months talking daily and eventually meeting each other face to face.

It was a moment of excitement that would also drive home a sobering reality. Mayweather had changed. Was Akbar ready to date someone who couldn’t move as freely as before?

“It was really more so a concern of trying to just be there for someone,” he says. “I had never dated anyone in a wheelchair.”

Dating and Mating

A century after President Franklin D. Roosevelt went to amazing lengths to hide his reliance on a wheelchair, America’s attitude towards people with disabilities has come a long way.

Generations have grown up cheering on athletes with disabilities, watching deaf actors, and even playing with a wheelchair-equipped Barbie doll.

Yet when the conversation comes to people with disabilities and romance, things can get complicated. With some viewing people with disabilities as people to be helped, not desired. Others assume that a physical disability, especially paralysis, limits sexual function. And still, others think dating and marrying someone with a disability means a lifetime of being less a spouse and more a caregiver.

The result: The first marriage rate for people with disabilities ages 18 to 49 in the U.S. is about half that of non-disabled people, according to one Maryland sociologist.

The overall first-marriage rate in the United States for people ages 18 to 49 is 48.9 per 1,000. For people with disabilities it’s just 24.4, according to Philip Cohen, a sociologist at the University of Maryland-College Park who studies family inequality issues.
— Wendy Lu, "Dating With a Disability," New York Times, December 8, 2016

Those couples who make it down the aisle can face major practical hurdles, including a federal marriage penalty that can make it near impossible to maintain Social Security benefits once a person with a disability weds. However, there’s some evidence the tide is turning. Pending federal legislation could pour some $400 billion into programs and services for people living with disabilities, in addition to overhauling Social Security restrictions. And one recent study showed that the never-married gap between people with disabilities and able-bodied Americans has narrowed.

Meanwhile, everything from disabled-friendly dating apps to inclusive sex toy companies are popping up, as more businesses and potential mates embrace the idea that people with disabilities are ready to be more than just a friend.

Bending Not Breaking

To call Dr. N.J. Akbar, a busy man, is an understatement.

Between giving news interviews, sitting on panels, shaping diversity policies at Kent State University, and listening to the concerns of parents and staff in the over 21,000-student school district, he can work up to 60 hours a week.

Yet on a recent Thursday, his typically bustling workday came to a halt. Mayweather’s electric wheelchair stopped working, leaving him stuck in a room at their home. Akbar rushed to his side.

“You have to be flexible and understanding. There are going to be times when you have to do things differently,” he says. “It helps us grow together because we’re always looking out for one another.”

It’s not the fact that he’s always ready to help me do something. It’s the fact that he tries to do it even when I don’t ask.
— Alex Mayweather

The couple says bending and compromising to support each other is the key to their success. For Akbar, a longtime bachelor, it means moving from a split-level house into a one-floor ranch, rethinking social outings—too many stairs won’t work—and paying attention to things like the depth of a sidewalk.

For Mayweather, a full-time college student, it means accepting that his husband-to-be will often get home after 6:30 p.m. or might be on the phone more often than he’d like.

For the fiercely independent Mayweather, it has also meant being willing to let someone in, whether it’s helping him out when a task is a little too taxing or supporting him when he’s struggling with negative thoughts.

Through love, both superheroes have learned they needed a sidekick.

“It’s not the fact that he’s always ready to help me do something,” Mayweather says. “It’s the fact that he tries to do it even when I don’t ask.”

 

Dionne Walker-Bing is an Atlanta-based reporter with over a decade of experience. Walker offers a distinct voice and unique skill for capturing the stories of diverse communities, perfected while writing for The Associated Press, The Capital-Gazette (Annapolis), and a variety of other daily publications throughout the Southeast. When she’s not writing features, Walker is busy traveling, crafting, or perfecting her vinyasa yoga skills.