I think we’re allowed to be proud of ourselves. Not in an arrogant way. Not because we think we’re better than anyone else. But because we’re allowed to look back at our own journey and quietly say, “I’ve come a long way.” Pride in ourselves isn’t something to be ashamed of.

So today…I’d like to tell you why I’m proud of myself.

Five years ago I was housebound around 95% of the time. I felt I had no right to enjoy life while receiving disability benefits. I’d read the comments online. “They should get vouchers instead of money.” “Look at them enjoying themselves while the rest of us work.” You know the sort of comments I mean. They don’t just criticise disabled people.

They dehumanise us.

I knew I was disabled. I knew what my care needs were. Yet somehow I allowed complete strangers to have more influence over how I lived my life than I did. Combined with my disabilities, I slowly began hiding from society.

One outing into my local town each week became my normal. The rest of my life happened behind the living room window.

Going out has never been simple for me. Crossing a road isn’t just crossing a road. It’s traffic. Noise. Light. People. Weather. Processing hundreds of things all at once. By the time I came home I’d often be exhausted. Sometimes physically unwell.

Then something slowly began to change.

Not because my disabilities disappeared.

They didn’t.

Not because life suddenly became easy.

It didn’t.

I simply began understanding myself better. I started asking a different question. Instead of…”How can I prove I’m disabled?” I asked…”How can I live well with my disabilities?”

I bought Loop earplugs. Transition lenses. Fidget tools for my sunflower lanyard. Little adaptations that helped me exist in a world that often overwhelms me.

Then I started saying yes to things that frightened me.

In February I booked my first holiday in twenty years. We went in June. I loved every second.

Then I went to my first kirtan with a friend.

A year ago I wouldn’t have gone. That night I was singing Sanskrit I’d misunderstood for two decades, worrying about everyone’s exposed toes and desperately trying not to fart during Om Namah Shivaya. Somehow…It became one of the most peaceful evenings I’ve experienced in years.

Next month we’re planning another family day out.

Little by little…My world has become bigger. There is still fear. Still overwhelm. Still sensory overload. Still days when doing one thing means I need a day to recover afterwards. None of that has disappeared. But something else has appeared alongside it.

Joy.

I’ve stopped staying housebound to prove I was disabled. Instead…I’ve started adapting so I can live with my disabilities. They’re two very different things. For years I watched life happen through a window because I believed that was what disabled people were expected to do.

Now I’m standing on stormy cliffs looking for puffins. Going on holiday. Singing with friends. Planning adventures.

Living.

I’m still disabled. I’m still autistic. I still have ADHD. I still need support.

None of that changed.

What changed… Was believing I was allowed to have a life anyway.

And honestly…I’m proud of myself.

I hope one day you feel proud of yourself too. Because no one else walks in your shoes. Only you know how far you’ve travelled.

— Frost ❄️