Having cerebral palsy (CP) means living with a visible disability that society often defines for you before you can define yourself.
People see limitations instead of the capabilities within, which wears down self-esteem and, if I’m honest, really takes a toll on dating and friendships.
Living with CP is like being imprisoned in your own body. My brain tells my body to do one thing, but it does something else entirely.
It’s a constant balancing act, full of physiotherapy and speech therapy sessions — like a car always needing repairs.
This is my reality, and I know I’m not alone. In Australia alone, about 34,000 people live with CP. That’s about one in every 700 people.
International Day of People with Disability
Last year, I decided to confront my fears head-on. I’d always struggled with low self-esteem, stemming from seeing myself for the first time in a Christmas video at age 10.
I hated my voice and the way I looked and after that, I withdrew into a world where computer screens and fictional stories became my best friends. I crafted an imaginary world, a cosy bubble where I felt in control, but the deeper I sank into that simulated reality the more isolated I became.
Every time I logged off, reality hit me like a cold wave. I was an outsider again, an unwelcome guest, a nobody. My mum and sister were out living their lives while I sat alone on the sofa for hours, consumed by YouTube documentaries. It was as if I were a spectator in my own existence, vicariously living through the lives of others on social media and news sites.
I finally got tired of watching everyone else live their happily ever afters while I stayed on the sidelines. On August 19, 2023, [aged 24] I created a spreadsheet listing everything I dreamed of doing, from small goals to my wildest aspirations. I set out with a single purpose: to prove to myself and the world what I could do.
My first step was a three-day solo trip to Melbourne, and in that city, I discovered a freedom I’d never imagined possible. I dined alone, wandered through the streets, and immersed myself in the art at the National Gallery of Victoria, where I marvelled at Rembrandt’s masterpieces.
I remember the second night so clearly; as I took the tram back to my hotel, the chill in the air mixed with the brilliance of the full moon, illuminating a city alive with vibrant characters. In that moment, I felt an unexpected sense of belonging in this new environment, as if the chains around my heart were loosening.
I stopped worrying about what others thought of me and began to realise that the box I had felt trapped in was nothing but an illusion.
While my solo adventure felt like a personal triumph, it highlighted some uncomfortable truths that I had long ignored. The recurring theme of loneliness that many people, both with and without disabilities, face.
Feelings of isolation and the desire to break free from societal limitations are all too common. In fact, statistics show that 36 per cent of individuals in Australia experience loneliness, more than one-third of the population.
In September 2023, I leapt into the unknown and booked a solo flight to London and Paris for June 2024. After years of watching documentaries, I was finally going to visit the cities of my childhood dreams. Booking that ticket taught me that dreams need action.
This year, I allowed myself to try something I once would have been embarrassed to attempt: to twirl.
Embracing my dreams both big and small, instead of flipping a coin to make a decision, I just decided, ‘Fine, I am doing this’ and if I embarrass myself in the process then so be it.
Instead of just daydreaming, I took real steps. I went to Bennelong for dinner, attended Fashion Week in person, and even tried a rage room.
But my most cherished memory? An Easter picnic with my family. A break from tradition that felt like a breakthrough for me.
This year has taught me that the best life a disabled person can have is one where they embrace their dreams and take action.
