PGP / SPD My story:

Disabilities Are Not Swearwords. There is something deeply unsettling about watching adults weaponise medical conditions as insults. Recently, in a local Darlington group, children’s behaviour was criticised by throwing around real diagnoses — including Foetal Alcohol Syndrome — as if they were punchlines. As if they were shorthand for “bad”, “feral”, “wrong”. Let me say this plainly: Using conditions like Foetal Alcohol Syndrome as an insult is not commentary. It is dehumanising . It reinforces stigma that real children live with every single day. And when adults model that behaviour publicly, it normalises cruelty . Disabilities are NOT swearwords. Diagnoses are NOT insults. If children behave harmfully, address the behaviour. Call out racism. Call out aggression. Call out misconduct. But do not drag disabled children into it as collateral damage. Because when someone says, “What in the foetal alcohol syndrome…” as shorthand for bad behaviour, what they are really communicating is ...

I’ve just had to block an artist I previously supported because they refuse to understand the role AI plays in disability and accessibility. You’re absolutely entitled to your opinion. What you’re not entitled to do is weaponise that opinion to attack disabled communities — especially while actively using AI-merged platforms yourself. That’s not principle. That’s hypocrisy. AI, for many disabled people, is not a shortcut. It’s an access tool. It bridges gaps that the world still refuses to close. If you want to critique technology, do it honestly. But don’t disguise hostility toward disabled access as some kind of artistic purity stance. Find a new excuse — because targeting disabled people for using accessibility tools isn’t it. Accessibility is not something I should ever have to publicly justify. Yet somehow, the most uninformed and judgemental voices are the loudest in demanding disabled people be scrutinised to “prove” what we need. I’m not participating in that. If you don’t unde...

My Not-To-Do list: Well… that wasn’t on my to-do list. 🙃 I fell and twisted my ankle. One minute I was walking, next minute gravity said “absolutely not” and now I’m wrapped up in towels like a poorly little burrito. 😅 It’s sore. It’s frustrating. And if you know me, you know resting is not exactly my favourite hobby. I like being productive. I like moving. I like doing. But sometimes the body makes the decision for you. So I’m elevating it. Wrapping it. Being gentle. Letting it heal. 🩷 This is your reminder (and clearly mine too): Rest is not weakness. Slowing down is not failure. Healing is still progress. If I’m a little quieter while I recover, that’s why. Just sending love to my ankle and hoping it behaves itself. 💗✨ — Sarah Wingfield ❤️  #Healing #RestIsProductive #DisabledAndDetermined #KawaiiDollDecora #InConcreteIBloom Alt text: A close-up photo of a hand holding a square card against a soft, pale background. On the card is a kawaii-style cartoon illustration of an ank...

Inclusion - Sarah Wingfield. I didn’t create these slides because inclusion is trendy. I created them because I have lived the absence of it. Inclusion is not a corporate buzzword. It is the difference between someone thriving and someone shrinking. Between someone walking in freely and someone hovering at the door wondering if they’re allowed to exist. Inclusion is not about “helping them”. It is about dismantling the invisible walls we pretend aren’t there. It is about asking: Who did we forget when we built this? Who has to ask for permission to belong? Who is exhausted from explaining their humanity? We talk about ramps and captions and policies — and we should. But inclusion is also the silence in a room when someone speaks their truth and nobody rolls their eyes. It is believing lived experience without demanding proof. It is not punishing disagreement. It is not weaponising power. It is choosing growth over ego. Inclusion is emotional as well as physical. It is safety. It is dig...

Hey everyone! 🙌🏻 Hope your week is going awesomely and life's being good to you! ✨ Just dropping by to say that by now you all know — I’m fully independent. 😅 No big machine behind me. No team pushing buttons. Just me. Building. Creating. Showing up. 🌸 When you’re an independent artist, breaking through the noise is hard. Reaching new people who genuinely care, who actually feel the music, who show real love, seek positive change or need help— that’s the uphill climb. So if you ever wonder how to support me, it’s honestly simple. 🎯 Share the post. 🎵 Share my music. 🎼 Stream one of my tracks. ✅ Subscribe to my Facebook. ❤️ Drop a like. 🗣️ Leave a comment. 🫵🏻 Add it to your story. ⭐ Send me stars. That ripple effect? ✨ It matters more than you realise. Algorithms don’t move without you. Growth doesn’t happen in isolation.  Every share is someone new hearing the sound, finding disabled voices amplified or finding that supportive affirmation they needed. You let me reach and ...

Thirty-eight years on this earth and some days I still feel like I’m standing in the rubble of battles I never asked to fight. Healing from trauma isn’t linear. It isn’t aesthetic. It isn’t a cute quote on a pastel background. It’s messy and inconvenient and sometimes it creeps up on you years later and whispers, “You’re not done yet.” And when it comes to my son’s cancer — and all that happened around us when he was diagnosed — I don’t think a mother ever just “gets over” watching her child fight for their life while simultaneously navigating systemic failures, corruption, and ableism that caused real, tangible harm. That kind of trauma doesn’t sit neatly in the past. It rewires you. It embeds itself in your nervous system. It lives in your bones. Some days I’m strong and composed and overflowing with gratitude. Other days it hits me sideways and I realise I’m still carrying pieces of it all — not just the illness, but the environment we were forced to survive within. Then the guilt ...