PGP / SPD My story:

Ableism Isn’t “Semantics” — It’s Harm.  Being an advocate really gets people's backs up, asking for kindness seems to be the new target as people freely enable abuse and harm and name call, be bitter and get personal; defend that but get abusive and mad when someone asks for basic respect. The amount of hypocrisy and lack of accountability is atrocious. I was kindly explaining ableism recently, (wanting people to stop comparing struggles as a means to ridicule, belittle, query or just be outright awful about others different struggles.) and I became a target of people who failed to fact check, gain clarification and just said the most personal and derogatory things whilst simultaneously agreeing with me without even realising it, and others were outright ableist. Period. I don't use that word lightly - ableism. It's a legitimate form of abuse and needs challenging. All struggles are valid. 💯 One of the worst comments I've come across, and I've legitimately blocked ...

No one wakes up and chooses to struggle. Not to feel so low they can’t move. Not to feel so anxious they can’t breathe. Not to live in a body and mind that feels like it’s working against them. Mental illness is not a personality flaw. It’s not attention-seeking. It’s not a lack of strength. It’s real. It’s valid. And it deserves understanding — not judgment. If you’ve never experienced it, lead with empathy, not assumption. And if you have… I see you. You’re not alone in this. Sarah Wingfield 💗 KawaiiDollDecora.uk #mentalhealthawareness #disabilityinclusion #invisibleillness #bekind #youarenotalone Alt Text: A colourful, glittery background in pink, purple, and teal tones with a white text box in the centre. The image features a quote stating that no one would choose to be so depressed they can’t get out of bed, or so anxious they experience daily panic attacks, and that no one would choose to have a mental illness that worsens their life. The final line reads in bold: “MENTAL ILLNES...

  Why...? Survival. Don't want to become like those who hurt me. Because the world needs more good. Because I've had too much bad. Sometimes “nice” isn’t just a personality trait… Sometimes it’s protection. Survival. Adaptation. Behind the softness, there can be things people don’t see. Things that shaped how we move through the world. Be kind—but also be aware. Not everything gentle came from ease. Sarah Wingfield 💗 KawaiiDollDecora.uk #nice #support #CPTSDAwareness #TraumaInformed #BeKindAlways #InvisibleIllness #MentalHealthAwareness #DisabilityAwareness Alt Text: A four-panel kawaii-style pastel comic. In the first panel, a cute character asks another character labelled “Nice,” “Why are you so nice?” In the second panel, a hand lifts the top of the “Nice” character’s head. In the third panel, the inside is revealed to say “CPTSD.” In the final panel, the character gently places the “Nice” label back on, smiling softly. The image uses soft pinks, sparkles, and a cute aesthe...

"I don't want the support when I'm dead"  - Sarah Wingfield   An uncomfortable truth: ostracism harms communities, it does not protect them. The men, and those alongside them, who work so hard to exclude me locally are not helping the community, they are harming it. Bullying is not leadership. Exclusion is not strength. Abusing power to silence, isolate, or undermine someone does not make a community safer or healthier, it makes it smaller, colder, and more toxic. Communities thrive through fairness, respect, and accountability, not through gatekeeping and intimidation. Anyone using their position to ostracise others should be honest about what they are really contributing: harm. KawaiiDollDecora.uk https://kawaiidolldecora.uk/aycliffe-alternative #support #achievements #inclusion #community #strongertogether  Alt Text: Screenshot of a social media comment by Sarah Wingfield. The profile header reads: “Actress | Director LTNE | Disability Advocate | Music …”. The comm...

From Survival to Advocacy: I Didn’t Wait to Be Seen — I Built Something That Couldn’t Be Ignored There was a time where I wasn’t seen. Not properly. Not fully. Not in a way that felt human. I existed in spaces that weren’t built for me, trying to fit into narratives that never included people like me in the first place. And when you live like that long enough, you start to question your own existence. Your voice. Your worth. You wonder if maybe you’re just… too much. Or not enough. Or simply invisible. But the truth is — I was never invisible. I was just unheard. And there’s a difference. I didn’t wake up one day confident, empowered, or “successful”. I built this. Slowly. Messily. Painfully at times. Through trauma. Through being dismissed. Through being misunderstood. Through navigating systems that were never designed to support me — as a disabled woman, as someone with lived experience, as someone who refused to stay quiet. And somewhere in that process, I realised something import...

Let me be heard: I’ve just been given my court hearing date to legally ensure an ex leaves me alone. It’s the morning of my practical driving test. And I sat with that for a moment… not shocked, not even angry, just tired. Because sometimes life doesn’t give you space to process things one at a time. It stacks them. Major, emotional, life-shaping moments, all at once. On one hand, I’m preparing for a court hearing — something that represents boundaries, safety, and closure. On the other, I’m preparing for a driving test — something that represents independence, growth, and moving forward. Both important. Both significant. Both happening together. And it really made me reflect on resilience, not in the idealised sense, but in the very real, human sense. Showing up when you’re in pain. Showing up when your mind is foggy. Showing up when your circumstances feel overwhelming. There’s a narrative that resilience looks like strength and composure at all times, but often it looks like continu...