This month is Disability Pride Month.

I was born with Arthrogryposis Multiplex Congenita (AMC), and I’ve used a wheelchair my whole life. I’ve played wheelchair rugby for over 15 years, including competing for Great Britain at the London 2012 Paralympics. Alongside that, I work in adult social care and write a blog, The Adventures of a Guy Called Mylo. I write about life, dating, disability, and everything in between.

A lot of what I put out isn’t about presenting a polished version of disability. It’s about the reality of it. The awkward bits, the funny bits, the parts that don’t quite fit into neat narratives. There’s more value in honesty than there is in trying to be inspiring for the sake of it.

“For me, Disability Pride Month is about taking back control of the narrative”

Disabled people are often spoken about in ways that feel distant or simplified. We’re either framed as something to be fixed or something to be admired from afar. Pride pushes back against those ideas. It’s not about pretending everything is positive. It’s about recognising that disability and life can go hand in hand without much fuss.

On a personal level, my relationship with pride has changed over time. Once upon a time, I tried to distance myself from my disability. To be the exception. The one who could blend in and not make things difficult.

At the same time, there were moments where I went the other way. I was louder, more confident, and sometimes I even overplayed it. I think I did this to cover the parts of me that felt unsure.

Pride, for me, hasn’t been about choosing one side or the other. It’s been about understanding where both started. Pride is about accepting that my disability isn’t something I need to hide from or perform around. It’s just part of me, something that has influenced my thought processes and how I move through the world.

“Playing for Great Britain at the London 2012 Paralympics will always be a defining moment of Pride”

 It wasn’t just about performance. It was about visibility, and feeling part of something bigger.

Although, if I’m honest, some of the quieter moments of Pride have stayed with me just as much.

Writing openly about dating and disability, and hearing that it made people feel seen, changed my perspective more than anything else. It’s a different kind of pride, less public and more personal.

“What makes me feel most connected to disability pride is community.”

There’s a certain honesty in disabled communities that’s hard to replicate elsewhere. The humour tends to be sharper and the conversations more direct. There’s less need to explain yourself. It makes you feel less like you’re navigating everything on your own.

“Fairness shouldn’t depend on how well someone can advocate for themselves”

If I could change one thing for disabled people, it would be closing the gap between what’s on paper and what actually happens.

There are policies, protections and systems designed to support disabled people. But in reality, accessing them often requires loads of energy and a willingness to challenge decisions again and again. That process can be draining, especially for people who are already managing a lot.

Fairness shouldn’t depend on how well someone can advocate for themselves on a given day.

“The most important place to start is listening properly, without assuming you already understand the answer.”

There’s a tendency to jump straight to solutions, or to focus on what looks good from the outside. Often, the most useful changes are small, practical adjustments that remove friction from everyday life.

Consistency matters too. Inclusion shouldn’t appear for key moments and then fade away. It needs to be part of how things are done year round.

“There isn’t a single way to feel about your disability.”

Some days you may not think about it much at all. It just feels like part of who you are. Other days it’s more noticeable, in small frustrations, or moments where the world doesn’t meet you halfway. Both experiences can exist within the same person, sometimes within the same day.

For a long time, I thought pride was something you arrived at, like there was a point when you felt completely comfortable in yourself. That hasn’t been my experience. Pride has been far more gradual.

For me, Pride isn’t about always feeling confident or certain. It’s about not letting the harder days take away from how I see myself. You can feel fed up at times and still hold onto a sense of who you are that you’re proud of. You don’t need to reach a perfect place to claim that.

“Support doesn’t always need to be visible to be meaningful.”

Pay attention to what disabled people are actually saying. Be open to learning, even when it’s uncomfortable. And focus on what you can do consistently, not just what you can say in the moment.

Visit our Disability Pride Month page to find out more.