A Glitchy But Cute Take on Pride, Power, and Pushing Back

Every July, disabled people around the world celebrate Disability Pride Month — a time to recognise our identity, our culture, and our unapologetic existence in a world that often tries to erase us.

But what is disability pride, really?

It’s not about pretending everything’s fine. It’s not toxic positivity.

It’s about saying: I exist. I deserve to be here. And I’m not sorry.

💥 Pride in a World That Wasn’t Built for Us

Let’s be real. Most of the world still treats disability as something tragic, something to fix, or something to hide.

We’re bombarded with messages that say we’re too much, too needy, too dependent. That we’re only worth listening to if we’re “inspiring.” Or that we should fight to be “normal.”

Disability pride says:

Sod that. I’m not broken. The system is.

Being disabled isn’t the problem — the barriers are. The stairs, the attitudes, the underfunded services, the endless form-filling. That’s where the real ‘impairment’ is.

🌈 Pride Is Political

Disability pride is a protest.

It was born from activism — from the fight for civil rights, access, and autonomy.

It’s wheelchairs in the streets and mobility aids on the dancefloor. It’s saying no to cure culture and yes to care culture. It’s reminding the world that disabled lives are worth living — not just surviving.

💖 Pride Is Also Joy

Yes, it’s political — but it’s also deeply personal.

It’s the joy of soft blankets and assistive tech that lets us live our lives.

It’s stim toys, seizure diaries, and pink powerchairs.

It’s reclaiming our bodies, our time, our pace.

It’s wearing cute headphones and not giving a damn if someone thinks it’s “weird.”

It’s resting without guilt.

It’s taking selfies with your rollator and feeling hot AF.

🧠 Why It Matters to Me

I didn’t always feel proud. I spent years masking, pushing through, trying to be “fine.”

Then came my stroke — and everything changed.

I was forced to slow down. To grieve. To adapt.

I now live with mobility challenges, seizures, speech and cognitive issues. I use a powerchair or rollator, and sometimes I can’t speak the way I want to.

But I also found community. I found language. I found pride.

Disability pride helped me stop seeing myself as broken — and start seeing myself as worthy.

✨ So What Can You Do This Disability Pride Month?

• If you’re disabled: take up space. Share your story. Rest proudly. You don’t owe anyone resilience.
• If you’re not: listen. Learn. Share our voices. Don’t centre yourself — uplift us.
• And for everyone: challenge ableism wherever you see it. In your workplace, your media, your mindset.

💬 Final Thought

Disability pride is about more than a month.

It’s a daily act of rebellion in a world that wants us small.

So whether you’re navigating care systems, chasing a diagnosis, or just vibing with your stim toy collection — know this:

You’re not less. You’re not a burden.

You’re disabled and divine.

Glitched but cute. And absolutely f*cking powerful.