Accepting My Disability Isn’t Giving Up

*I am dyslexic so there will be spelling and grammer mistakes

*Trigger warning: mentions of suicide 

So, how do we learn to accept ourselves and our new lives now that we realise we are disabled? This seems like a particularly tricky topic….

On the one hand, someone might respond to talking about accepting your disability by saying, “Live in the moment, don't dwell on the past," but it's not that simple. 

This is because of our history. Imagine going from living a relatively “normal” (I hate this word, but it's one that pops up a lot) life where you kept up with peers and social expectations and norms to being able to do ALL the things you wanted when you wanted. 

When that changes, it's a shock to the system. “Why can't I just keep pushing?!” When the body tells me it's had enough. You've been masking for years, constantly with no respite. You've been pushing yourself beyond your capacity over and over and over again. And you've been running on adrenaline and fear; that's what's kept you going. You want to “achieve” whatever that means. The hunger for MORE is insatiable. More money, more achievements, more self-worth, more validation, more more more. 

And one day, your body says “i just can’t do this anymore,” and you have the worst "breakup" of your life. You can't push through it (the pain, the fatigue, the masking). You have to stop. Your body might make you more unwell, you might be in occupational and or autistic burnout, or you're having more meltdowns, shutdowns, frustration, irritation, and brain fog. You feel rough. 

You don't want to let go, though, of the adrenaline-filled life you built, your “success”, the future you had planned. When your body forces you to, you then feel like a failure. You might feel angry, frustrated, sad, depressed, even suicidal… 

So what do you do? 

Well, when this happened to me slowly over a 7-year period, I realised what the key was…

Acceptance. I didnt have to like it, but I did have to do it. Even if every fibre of my being didn't want to. 

You might have heard of the stages of grief. Well, I think there are stages of acceptance, too, and the two are closely related!

This is what it looked like for me:

1)denial 

“Its ok, im struggling but ill push through, I can just carry on as usual, maybe with an extra coffee.”

2)anger

“What the F***!, why is this happening to ME. Why can't i just be like everyone else and have a “normal” life, this is so unfair”

3)bargaining 

“Maybe if i push myself more i can train myself to get back to usual, I'll follow a strict routine and diet and take loads of supplements”

4)grief

“Im so sad that I will never get to achieve what I wanted to in my hobbies, Im so sad that my partner will have to take care of me and im so sad I’ll not be able to have a fulltime job”

4)exploration 

“I suppose I could try out some things that could help me. Im feeling a lot of internalised ableism about this, but im going to slowly give it a go, using tools, strategies and aids”

5)acceptance

“This is me, and that's ok. I can still live a fulfilling life, there will be ups and downs and thats ok too. This life will be different to what i imagined but I'm still wonderful, worthy and my challenges are valid, im not so afraid to be me in public”

An example form my own life

My latest challenge has been my mobility, this is something which has been worsening over the last 7 years, it took me a good few years to come to terms with using a walking stick, and now 7 years later i just bought my first wheelchair. 

Ableism really got to me for this one in particular, and I'm sure a lot of people will relate to this sentiment, but about all kinds of equipment and life changes. 

ALT: close up of a wheelchair wheel with a white persons hand gripping it. In the background is a blurry image of a city center

I had seen lots of people online over the last few years leaving nasty comments about people who use wheelchairs, but are ambulatory wheelchair users (people who walk and use the chair). Calling them attention seekers, fakers and a multitude of other horrible things. 

There seems to be the misconception that ONLY the societally deemed “most disabled” people are allowed to have adaptations, equipment and aids. Everyone else must be “lazy”.

But what people do not realise is that those aids are actually there to help people. If someone can walk some of the time, but walking around a whole shopping center makes them feel dizzy and nauseous, creates a horrible pain flare-up, or makes them so tired they have to rest for days, why should they have to put themselves through that or miss out when a simple wheelchair could enable them to enjoy shopping?

In my case, I will still be walking sometimes, but there are occasions like above where a wheelchair will mean I can enjoy my life more, and that is a valid reason to use a wheelchair!

There are even misconceptions in the OT & healthcare professional community around ambulatory wheelchair usage that:

1.  Wheelchair use will make a person feel they are more disabled and, therefore, hinder their progress or recovery 

2. Wheelchairs encourage people to be dependent when they should be aiming for independence 

3. Wheelchairs will make people weaker and lose muscle

And here is my take:

1. This has been disproven! 

2. We are actually all dependent on someone, e.g farmers to grow our food, and the reality is, dependence isn't always a bad thing, and independence isn't always a good thing. We should aim to help people improve their wellbeing, and if a wheelchair helps someone who loves shopping spend longer at the shops instead of cutting it short, why should we deprive them of this?

3. If someone just uses a wheelchair in a few circumstances in which they would have otherwise had a flare-up from walking or miss out on, this will not drastically deplete their muscles. That person could walk until close to their limit and then use the chair, so they aren't doing any less walking or attending something they wouldn't have previously been able to. Equally, that person could work on training their muscles with home exercises and physio alongside using the chair when needed. 

And of course, so many of the misconceptions are deeply rooted in ableism and how people can think that being disabled is a bad thing, something to be eradicated. Unfortunately, this rhetoric is rife in the healthcare world still.

Although there will be people who judge me or frown upon me using a wheelchair sometimes, when I can walk sometimes, I have chosen to make this decision for my own quality of life, because that matters the most. Again- why should I have to feel so unwell and have a miserable time when there is a solution? This is me taking control of my life, advocating for myself and my needs & listening to my body.

Another aspect that comes up often in my work and my own life is the fact that making changes requires funds, time and energy. I am just going to note here that I feel very privileged that I could save up to purchase a wheelchair; not everyone has access to such luxuries. But there are ways to get support via grants and charities, which is brilliant. Having the time and energy to implement life changes is trickier for a lot of people. When you're already exhausted, it's so hard to make these changes. It's important to start really small. 

The problem is, that does mean that it can be frustrating as you're not making progress as quickly and visibly. But if you are patient these small changes will bubble under the surface and eventually you'll reap the rewards!

A small example could be that you want to do a breathing exercise daily, so your small step is to do a 1-minute version of this change by doing it while the kettle boils for your morning tea.

I am also working to adjust the mindset that “Done” is better than “perfect. And a little is still something. I know this can be easier said than done; rewiring your brain takes time, but through practice, it is possible. We must be kind to ourselves, though, when we get into our all-or-nothing or perfectionist mindsets- it's natural for our brains. We can be kind to ourselves and remember that this IS hard because I've had to live this way for so long for survival, but I'm safe and in control now. 

Using the chair was a big moment for me personally in my journey of acceptance and internalised ableism. We all deserve to have access to and use aids, adaptations, adjustments, and strategies that help make our lives happier and better. That might mean our lives don't look how we once imagined, but that's okay; we are still worthy of joy.

How have you found the journey of accepting your disabled self?

P.S

I am planning to do some webinars on this topic (and many more), If you'd like to know about when these will be, you can join my mailing list here: https://alexnavneuroot.substack.com/

*Disclaimer: This blog post is based on my personal experience and professional insights as a neurodivergent occupational therapist. I am always learning; this means I do get things wrong and learn from them. It is intended for general information and reflection only and does not replace personalised medical, psychological, or therapeutic advice. Everyone’s experience of disability and acceptance is unique. If you're struggling or unsure where to start, please consider speaking with a qualified health professional or reaching out for support from someone you trust.

 © Alexandra Lawrence | Navigate Neurodiversity OT | 2025. All rights reserved. This post is for personal use only. You’re welcome to share the link to this post, but please do not reproduce or republish any part of the content without permission. Professionals may not use this content in client work, training, or publications without explicit written consent.