Chairs are more than just somewhere to sit.

What I wish I had known when I was first diagnosed.

All we want is to be seen as a person, not just our disability. 

Something really beautiful happened recently, and I’ve been sitting with it .

Hidden Disabilities Sunflower: For People Living With Hidden Disabilities

Feel Confident Navigating & Travelling Around The City

Discovering How ADHD Shaped My Experiences

What if creating an inclusive workplace was easier than you thought?

In life, three barriers often prevent people with disabilities from fully participating in various activities: Social stigmas, attitudes, and misconceptions about our abilities. The built environment and the lack of accessibility.  Ourselves, which includes fear of the unknown, fear of failure, and lack of confidence. While we may not always be able to change the first two, the third barrier—our mindset—is one that only we can break through. In 1992, I was diagnosed as legally blind due to Progressive Cone Dystrophy. But it wasn’t until 2015 that I fully embraced my blindness. Rather than saying, "I’m losing my sight," I reframed it as, "I’m gaining my blindness." This shift in mindset allowed me to step out of my comfort zone and explore non-visual techniques to complete tasks I once relied on sight for. Patience, time, and yes, frustration, were all part of the process. But now, I’m living my best life—doing even more than I did with vision. When friends asked me to go axe 🪓 and dagger 🗡️ throwing, I immediately said yes. I love new experiences, and I wasn’t going to let my blindness be a barrier. We spent an hour learning how to hold, aim, and throw. I chose to wear a blindfold because the small amount of vision I have left can be more distracting than helpful. My focus wasn’t on whether I got a bullseye but on having fun, being included, and trying something new. After all, we never know if we’ll like something until we try. For this experience, the target was about 15 feet away, with chain fences on either side. I could stretch my arms out and feel both fences, giving me a sense of space. There was also a tactile line under my feet, ensuring I knew where to stand. To throw the axe, I gripped the bottom of the handle with my dominant hand (right) and placed my left hand over my right. I raised the axe over my head, letting it rest between my shoulder blades, squared my body to the target, relaxed my shoulders, and threw. I hit the target most times and even landed two bullseyes! It was exhilarating. My husband and friends joined in by donning blindfolds and throwing axes, too. Even the staff took part in the experience, and we all had a blast. The dagger 🗡️ proved more challenging. To throw it, I had to position the tip of the blade pointing toward me, over my shoulder, next to my ear—a nerve-wracking task without sight. I threw it four times and managed to hit the board once (the handle stuck, not the blade, but close enough for me to laugh about it). While I enjoyed trying it, I much preferred the axe and will definitely be doing that again. This experience reinforced the idea that people with disabilities may not always meet others where they are—but that doesn’t stop others from meeting us where we are. It’s not about the perfect experience; it’s about trying and enjoying the process. So, step out of your comfort zone. You may discover something new and, most importantly, have fun.