Disability Pride Month: The Conversations We Still Need to Have

Hannah Wallace

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It's Disability Pride Month, and I found myself thinking, I'm going to write about this again.

A couple of months ago I wrote about the reflections that came after giving my TEDx Talk, and somehow that conversation naturally brings me here. Because the truth is, these conversations aren't something we have once and move on from. They are conversations we need to keep having. We need to keep listening, learning and widening our understanding, because disability is something that affects millions of people across the world, yet it still feels like one of the least understood parts of our society.

One of the biggest misconceptions is that disability has to be visible.

Yes, there are many visible disabilities, but there are just as many invisible ones. Every single day you will pass people who look completely well, who are smiling, dressed beautifully, showing up to work, caring for their families and living their lives, while also navigating enormous challenges that nobody else can see. You cannot tell someone's health, pain or ability simply by looking at them.

Disability has no single face. It has no age. It has no number. It doesn't fit into a neat little box, and yet we so often expect it to.

Millions of people are living with disabilities in countless different ways. Many still don't have access to the support, equipment, healthcare or accommodations that would dramatically improve their quality of life. Alongside that is something far harder to quantify: stigma.

Stigma runs deep.

It exists within the general public. It exists within healthcare. It exists within wellness spaces and even spiritual communities, where illness is sometimes misunderstood or oversimplified. It exists in workplaces, friendships and families. It shapes how people see disability, but perhaps even more painfully, it shapes how disabled people begin to see themselves.

Even after years of living with disability, there are still moments where I find myself feeling like I need to justify myself. To explain. To prove that I'm trying hard enough. To reassure people that I'm not lazy, not giving up, not exaggerating.

That can be exhausting.

In my own case, I have a visible tremor because of my Parkinson's, so people often recognise that something is different. But for many people, there are no outward signs at all. They may live with chronic pain, neurological conditions, autoimmune illnesses, fatigue, sensory differences or countless other disabilities that remain invisible to everyone around them.

Neither experience is more valid than the other.

And perhaps that's where we need to begin: letting go of the idea that disability has to look a certain way.

I say no to that.

I say no to stereotypes.

I say no to the assumptions that people are either "too well" to be disabled or "too disabled" to live full and meaningful lives.

I also don't believe disability means giving up. I believe we should always be supported to make the best of our circumstances, however that looks for each individual person. Support matters. Accessibility matters. Opportunity matters. None of those things are about special treatment; they're about giving people the chance to participate fully in life.

I also think it's important that we become more compassionate in how we speak about disabled people. Sometimes people are criticised for talking about their illness too much. They're labelled as having a "victim mindset" or told they need to be more positive.

But we don't know their story.

We don't know what it took for them to even reach that point. We don't know the years of gaslighting, dismissal, medical trauma or misunderstanding they may have experienced. We don't know how many times they've had to fight simply to be believed.

There is often so much more beneath the surface than anyone else can see.

I've had a long time to reconcile disability within my own life. I wouldn't say I've "got used to it," because I'm not sure that's the right phrase. Instead, I've made a choice about how I want to live. I've chosen not to let disability define my identity, while also allowing it to become part of my story.

Most days I simply get on with life.

Then something reminds me.

I arrive somewhere without an accessible toilet. There isn't a ramp. A venue hasn't considered wheelchair users. Someone makes assumptions about what I can or can't do.

Those moments still frustrate me because, in so many ways, these are basic things.

I spoke about this in my TEDx Talk. Of course I understand there are practical limitations with some buildings and environments, but so often there are solutions. Accessibility shouldn't be treated as an afterthought. It should simply be part of how we design the world.

The same is true within workplaces. Many people still face unnecessary barriers because reasonable accommodations aren't made or because they're overlooked entirely.

What strikes me most is that disability can look completely different from one person to another.

One person may be thriving in their career while living with disability. Another may be in the middle of an incredibly difficult season. Neither is more worthy than the other. Neither deserves more judgement than the other.

People don't need to earn compassion by suffering visibly.

They simply deserve to be met where they are.

Sometimes I move through life forgetting that I'm disabled until I encounter one of those barriers. It's almost as if the world gently reminds me that it still wasn't built with everyone in mind.

We've absolutely made progress, and I never want to dismiss that. There are incredible advocates creating change every single day, and accessibility has improved in many areas.

But we still have a long way to go.

Disability often feels as though it lives in its own little echo chamber. Conversations happen within disabled communities, but they rarely break into the wider conversation in the way other important issues have begun to. It can still feel like a taboo subject, tucked away into little corners of the internet instead of becoming part of everyday understanding.

What I hope for is something much simpler.

I hope we become more curious.

I hope we ask better questions.

I hope we stop making assumptions.

I hope we create communities where people don't have to explain themselves quite so much.

If I'm honest, one of the things I've had to work on most is my own fear of being seen as a burden. I don't want people to think I'm making a fuss. I don't want people to think I'm asking for too much. I don't want to be viewed as difficult simply because I need something to make a space accessible.

The irony is that those thoughts shouldn't even have been planted there in the first place.

Somewhere along the way, many of us learned that needing support was something to apologise for.

It isn't.

So I don't have one grand solution today.

I simply believe we keep moving forwards.

Those of us living with disability continue sharing our stories. Those who aren't directly affected continue listening, learning and standing alongside us. We encourage brands, businesses, employers and communities to do better. We celebrate progress while continuing to ask for more.

Representation matters too.

Recently I walked into a sports clothing store and noticed one of the models in the campaign was sitting in a wheelchair. It was such a small thing, but it genuinely made me smile. For one of the first times, I felt represented in a space where I rarely see people who look like me.

That's the power of inclusion.

It's not always about huge gestures. Sometimes it's those small moments that quietly tell someone, You belong here too.

I'd like to think my TEDx Talk was one small drop in the ocean.

But it's only one drop.

There are thousands of disabled people, campaigners, charities, creators, healthcare professionals, carers and advocates showing up every single day to make the world more accessible and more compassionate. Our job is to amplify those voices, support them and keep these conversations alive.

I'm not saying disability is the only important issue in the world.

There are so many.

But this is one that matters deeply to me.

So thank you for reading. Thank you for walking alongside me. Thank you for being willing to listen.

If this resonates with you, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Please share this article, share my TEDx Talk, and let's keep the conversation moving forwards.

Because change rarely happens through one big moment.

It happens through millions of small conversations that slowly change the way we see one another.

All my love

Hannah X