Briana Beaver,  —

Briana grew up in Northern California where she pursued her love for sociology at California State University, Chico. Since graduation, she’s remained passionate about social justice and human rights. Diagnosed with cerebral palsy as a toddler, Briana blends her love for creative self-expression and meaningful connection into her column. As the former co-founder and director of a nonprofit serving children with and without disabilities, Briana is a dedicated advocate. When not embarking on aforementioned adventures, you'll most likely find her basking in the company of her beloved bunny, Harper, or working on her coffee business

Articles by Briana Beaver

The Art of Seeking Support From Others

I’ve found myself feeling hurt lately after heartfelt requests for support from friends seem to have come up short. It occurred to me that perhaps people are just unaware of how they can help. I recognize that the tumultuous nature of chronic health challenges can be daunting, but it…

The Wrong Kind of Right

Some days, you keep it to yourself. You look into the eyes of another faceless doctor looking back into yours, telling you the wrong thing. You keep breathing in and out as he rationalizes why he’s not ordering the right tests and you remember that he’s human, too. The instinct…

The Human Bean: Connecting Beyond Coffee

Sometimes you find the love you’re looking for in the most unexpected places. This Friday, I found it curbside at my neighborhood café. As the owner of a coffee business, I partner with a local coffee roaster specializing in small-batch, craft coffees. Each week, I deliver the labels for…

You’re Invited Into the Pandemonium of My World

In the dimmed hospital room light, I hoist myself into a sitting position. The room swirls momentarily as my brain attempts to find equilibrium. Bending my elbows, the IV catheter stings in my arm. Even in my exasperated state, my heartbeat quickens as I reach for my phone. The connectivity…

Celebrating Half a Year of Wiggling with You

It occurred to me recently that I have been writing this column for more than half a year. My mind has been delving into contemplation about what this opportunity has meant to me so far. As a writer, I’ve spent the last decade cataloging my most intimate battles with chronic…

We Are Alone in This Together

“This pandemic is really working for you,” my mom said, half-jokingly. She nor I never could have imagined that over the course of only weeks, society would rearrange itself into a more Briana-friendly place. The “awkward” social necessities characteristic of my interactions with others have now become the norm.

That Time I Received an Invitation from a Cuddlist

Cuddles for hire. Yes, you read that correctly. Around this time last year, I was approached by a soon-to-be professional cuddlist. A casual hangout with an acquaintance quickly took an unexpected detour. The topic of the importance of human touch and the wounds from a lack thereof took us…

Focusing on Random Acts of Kindness During a Crisis

“Commit random acts of kindness.” I see this bumper sticker plastered on cars around my town. As with other advice to society, I often wonder if this message permeates collective consciousness. It would appear that it does. During a crisis, we often focus on the worst manifestations of human behavior.

A Virtual Band-Aid for a Real Wound

I have a complicated relationship with social media. With the profound isolation necessitated by my chronic illness and immunocompromised state, the opportunity to connect with others via technology has become a lifeline over the years. But during the most harrowing of times, following my college graduation, digital technology use…

Endless Sleepless Nights Are Rattling My Soul

“Can sleep deprivation kill you?” I’ve spent more time Googling this question than I’d care to admit. Though I’ve learned throughout the years to cautiously validate any information provided by the internet regarding health problems, I frequently toss this desperate inquiry into cyberspace nonetheless. Of course, I want the answer…