Bursting the Bubble Wrap

Last month marked the International Day of Persons with Disabilities (IDPD), with the theme this year being, “Empowering Inclusion: Disability, Diversity, and Development,” struck a deeply personal chord. This is a call for global solidarity. It acted as a reminder that while progress is being made, there’s still a long way to go. It is a time to recognize that people with disabilities exist, it is about understanding that we help shape every facet of society, whether it is through innovation, creativity, or the resilience honed by navigating a world that still is not always built for us. Personally, it was a time to walk a gritted journey and still not knowing exactly where the 2025 the destination will be.

This time still is marked with periods of exhaustion (fatigue), chronic pain, and burnout which hit me. Being autistic can make fatigue and burnout more likely but is also an acknowledgment I exist; I am different but not less. Having an extended time off from work and stressful activities has been vital to personal managing stress levels. It has been time for me to rest, time for activities and interests that re-energize and promote relaxation for me is key. The time has also been spent with my family and friends or enjoying hobbies or interests. Yet my conditions, my disabilities do not take holidays. They do not pause for celebrations or make exceptions for special occasions. They are constant, unrelenting, and often invisible to those who do not live with them. And yet, there’s an unspoken expectation that disabled people should push through, show up, and smile for the camera—no matter how much pain or discomfort they’re in.

None of us chooses physical exhaustion, chronic pain, emotional overwhelment, sensory overload, or mental overstimulation. But as the world keeps turning into a new year, we are often left to navigate systems that we do not understand or accommodate for our needs. But disability is natural and it is not a dirty word. We must stop believing that disabilities keep a person from doing something. Because that is not true . . . Having a disability or neurodivergent should not stop me from doing anything. Being neurodivergent and / or disabled should not mean being disqualified from having access to every aspect of life.

As a neurodivergent (autistic, dyslexic and dyspraxic) and disabled (visually impaired) engineer, this theme also feels particularly poignant. My journey has often been marked by moments where I have felt my abilities were seen as secondary to my challenges. But these annual celebration months are not about seeking pity or charity; they are a reminder to embrace our unique strengths, acknowledge our limitations, and others to give us the opportunity to thrive in the workplace and society. I live to overcome the limitations of my conditions and let my strengths fuel me to lead a life as full as possible.

Acknowledging my conditions, my visual impairment and my neurodivergent characteristics means they do not exist in a vacuum. They intersect with other aspects of my identity, like race, gender, and socioeconomic status. For others such as a disabled women may face unique challenges, from gendered expectations of caregiving to higher rates of unemployment. Similarly, disabled individuals from marginalized racial or ethnic backgrounds may encounter compounded discrimination.

Living with a disability and or being neurodivergent is not easy. But the hardest part often is not the condition(s) themselves, I think it is constantly navigating a world that underestimates, undervalues, or at worst outright ignores us. The bubble wrap metaphor captures the well-meaning constraints that ultimately do more harm than good. Surely now is the time to support us to break free. Let people with disabilities thrive, not despite their differences, but because of them. Let us commit to creating a world where everyone gets to leave their mark—burst that bubble wrap-and break free.

Acknowledging our strengths, means is about having a vital role in shaping a more inclusive future for one and all. Inclusion is not just about presence; it is about being valued for our unique contributions. For example, my own career, I’ve had moments where I felt stuck, misunderstood, or underestimated. Too often, living with a disability can sometimes feel like being wrapped in metaphorical bubble wrap. It is a well-meaning protection, but restrictive layer imposed by societal constructs or other’s expectations and biases — those who want to “protect” us but end up stifling our growth. People tend to focus on what they think we (as disable or neurodivergent people) can’t do rather than what we can. So often our challenges are seen before our strengths, leading to restrictions placed before us even from those with good intentions.

Yet acknowledging our strengths means life does not have to be this way. I have also been fortunate to work with people who understand me; they see my neurodivergence as an asset, enabling me to innovate and collaborate. When we collaborate alongside allies then the power of diverse teams is fully maximized. But inclusion isn’t just a workplace issue; it’s a societal one. How often do we see disabled characters in media portrayed as complex, fully realized individuals rather than one-dimensional tropes? How accessible are public spaces—not just in terms of physical design but in fostering a culture of welcome and understanding? It is time to think about inclusion as a mindset, the true power of diverse teams emerges when everyone is supported to thrive. Surely, the bubble wrap should be burst and let people with disabilities lead—not just as participants in development but as its drivers.

Consequently, being neuroinclusive is not tick box exercise - it’s a tapestry of a more diverse future for everyone. Each of us, whether friends, teachers, or policymakers, holds the power to make inclusion and accessibility real. I often ask: Am I really empowering others to make change or how is society holding us back with their mindsets? It is time to burst the bubble wrap because the world thrives when everyone leaves their mark. We all have the power to make inclusion real.

We can all be role models, leading by example, servant-hearted, placing other’s needs above ours. Yet believe there is a shortage of visible, diverse role models who people can be inspired by. Many involuntarily act as role models and often do not recognize the positive impact that they have made on individuals, the wider sphere of influence, and beyond in encouraging others to be change agents, or promoting the positive impact that they have made on individuals, the wider organization, and beyond in encouraging others to engage with promoting workplace or societal change.

Daily, I still ask myself and others, are we empowering those around us, or we holding others back with our own fears? How can I do better and challenge the status quo? Together, bursting the bubble wrap, in a world where everyone gets to leave their mark and thrive and not survive. May our advocating move from awareness to action, may we grow in conscious inclusion is one thing, may we put it into practice? That’s where the lasting change happens. So, how do we build lasting real, tangible inclusion?

Being part of an underrepresented community, we are often overlooked or not even talked about enough with insufficient representation. The latter can cause some of the most disabling attitudes and microaggressions we face as members of an underrepresented group. For example, I have lost count of the times people assumed I could not handle a certain thing because of my neurodivergence. It wasn’t malice; it was fear—fear that I would fail, fear that my unique approach would clash with conventional methods. Failure is not wrong; failure is not to try. But these types of assumptions have often denied me the chance to prove myself at an early age, to learn, to grow with my conditions and embracing opportunities.

Also at the same time, there is an assumption that support, and inclusion is “hard.” That it’s an extra burden for employers, educators, or communities. But the truth? Inclusion is an investment, and the returns—diverse perspectives, innovative solutions, richer human connections—are priceless. We should look beyond ourselves and bring inclusion and accessibility into our ordinary everyday lives.

Society has a messed-up relationship with disability, we love to accept difference until it gets messy, complex and real. Society is slowly learning to misunderstand and accept us who are neurodivergent. But in both cases, it often adds an emotional layer to the physical challenges we face. When we do things differently, when we suddenly go pop, when cancel plans, people might think we are lazy or antisocial. When we say you need a break, other may assume we are exaggerating. But this this not about attitude; often it is about survival. It is about honoring our body’s limits and choosing health over social expectations. Here are my closing thoughts, living in a world that was not built with us in mind is hard, full of double-edged swords called assumptions and myths.

1. Representation with Meaning - life is not enough to invite one disabled person to the table and call it a day. Real inclusion means asking: Are disabled or neurodivergent people being listened to? Are our voices shaping decisions? Representation is hollow if it doesn’t come with influence. Take workplaces, for instance. Hiring a disabled employee isn’t just about ticking a box—it’s about creating an environment where that person feels safe and valued enough to share their ideas. Yes, I have been in rooms where my input was met with skepticism, as though my neurodivergence somehow disqualified me from contributing. But I have also had the privilege of working with teams that celebrated my perspectives, allowing me to approach problems in ways others hadn’t considered.

2. Adopt Universal Design – life is more than ramps; when we talk about accessibility, the conversation often stops at physical adjustments—like installing ramps or elevators. And while these are undeniably important, true accessibility goes much deeper. Consider sensory-friendly spaces for neurodivergent individuals, or policies that allow for flexible work arrangements. Accessibility is about creating environments that recognize and celebrate all kinds of minds and bodies. When universal design is done right, it doesn’t just benefit people with disabilities—it enhances the experience for everyone.

3. Change the Narrative – life is more than celebratory months, accept us being disabled or neurodivergent and our lives are not a tragedy. Sure, both come with challenges, but those challenges often shape incredible strengths: resilience, adaptability, and a knack for thinking outside the box. I repeat, too often, the narrative around limitation. Society loves a “heroic overcoming” story, or a paralympician winning against the odds, but what if we reframed disability as just another way of being? What if we focused on the innovation and insight that comes from seeing the world differently? Disability isn’t a limitation but a different way of being, often paired with resilience, innovation, and perspectives that can transform the world and make history.