Emily

I used to think accepting mobility aids meant accepting a smaller life.

Turns out, I had that completely backwards.

My wheelchair has taken me to concerts, gardens, nights out, work, adventures with friends, and places I probably would have stayed home from otherwise. It has given me the freedom to say yes without constantly wondering whether my body can keep up.

But the biggest surprise has been realizing that disability hasn’t just changed how I move through the world. It’s changed what I want to do in it.

I’m dreaming bigger than I did before.

I’ve found myself increasingly drawn toward advocacy, public service, and the possibility of using what I’ve learned to make my community more accessible. I’m starting to imagine myself in rooms I never would have pictured myself in before — and realizing that maybe my perspective belongs there.

I’m seeing that at work, too. My disability isn’t treated like something I have to overcome before I can be valuable. My lived experience is part of what I bring to the table. It gives my team another perspective, helps us notice where we can do better, and gives us another lens for thinking about how disabled people experience the spaces and art we create.

That’s been a pretty profound shift for me: the thing I once worried would make me less capable has become part of what makes my perspective valuable.

None of that means disability is easy. There are inaccessible places, frustrating days, things I miss, and plenty of moments when my body and I are very much butting heads.

But my life isn’t getting smaller.

I’m more independent. More adventurous. More willing to ask for what I need. I’m finding community, purpose, and ambitions I didn’t have before.

I never dreamed becoming disabled and accepting mobility aids would help me create a life bigger than the one I had before.

And now I’m starting to think I haven’t dreamed nearly big enough 🌸⚡️