PGP / SPD My story:

The same cycles: Every day feels like the same cycle. I work hard. I sacrifice. I give my time, my energy, my lived experience, and my voice to causes I genuinely care about. Yet alongside the good, there always seems to be another obstacle waiting. Backlash. Criticism. Abuse. Ostracism. False allegations. Hate campaigns. Rejections. Opportunities disappearing without explanation. What I struggle to understand is why so many people choose to add to someone else's burden rather than lighten it. Life is already difficult enough. Many disabled people are already fighting battles most never see. We navigate pain, fatigue, accessibility barriers, discrimination, financial pressures, and health challenges every single day. Advocacy doesn't remove those struggles; it often adds to them. Yet despite that, we keep showing up. We speak up when it's easier to stay silent. We challenge injustice when it's easier to look away. We support others even when we ourselves are struggling....

This is genuinely heartbreaking. 💔 Recently, I needed to access a domestic abuse awareness video case study I created after completing a course with Learning Curve Group. The video was used to raise awareness, support survivors, and encourage education around domestic abuse. Today I discovered it has been removed. No notification. No conversation. No explanation. No opportunity to save a copy. This has a detrimental impact on my blogging and sharing of the video, as people can no longer access or benefit from the content. As a disabled advocate , this is becoming a painfully familiar experience. I find organisations to support. I give my time at cost. I arrange transport despite my disabilities. I push through pain, fatigue, accessibility barriers, anxiety, and health conditions because I genuinely believe in making a difference. I show up. I do the work. I advocate. I amplify their messages. Then, without warning, the work disappears. It feels eerily similar to what happened with Dur...

Polite Notice: As someone who moderates community spaces, I wanted to take a moment to clarify the standards I try to uphold and the values that guide my decisions. Communities work best when people feel safe to participate, share their views, ask questions, and engage in discussion without fear of being attacked, ridiculed, or harassed. I welcome: ✅ Respectful disagreement ✅ Healthy debate ✅ Different political viewpoints ✅ Constructive criticism ✅ Accountability ✅ Safeguarding ✅ Community safety ✅ Open discussion ✅ Treating people with dignity, even when we disagree What I do not support is: ❌ Personal insults and name-calling ❌ Attacks on someone's character, intelligence, appearance, disability, or mental health ❌ False allegations presented as fact without evidence ❌ Bullying, harassment, intimidation, or targeted hostility ❌ Encouraging or justifying abusive behaviour towards others ❌ Attempts to divide communities by creating "us versus them" mentalities ❌ Mocking ...

Those angry about my "monetisation" genuinely make me laugh. I've been accused of taking over groups for profit, exploiting communities, using advocacy for money, and all sorts of wild conspiracy theories. Meanwhile, here's the reality. My Facebook earnings for June currently stand at $0.73. That's right. Seventy-three cents. So while I'm running community groups, disability advocacy projects, a website, a community magazine, helping people with support and signposting, and often working at cost or entirely for free, apparently I'm secretly building a financial empire worth less than the price of a packet of crisps. Fact-checking matters. If you're going to accuse someone of profiting from community work, at least make sure the evidence supports the claim first. Stay curious. Stay informed. Stay kind. 💜 Sarah Wingfield  KawaiiDollDecora.uk Alt Text: Screenshot of a Facebook Professional Dashboard on the Monetisation tab. The screen shows "Approxi...

Autistic Meltdown Awareness: When I get overwhelmed and everything becomes too much, it can feel like I'm suffocating. What many people don't realise is that the way others respond can either help the situation calm down or unintentionally make it worse. If I'm given ten minutes, some breathing space, and the chance to regulate, I'll usually be okay. But if I'm bombarded with questions, demands, criticism, or pressure, my distress can escalate rapidly. This is why awareness matters. A meltdown is not a tantrum, manipulation, attention-seeking, or defiance. It's a neurological response to overwhelm when the brain has exceeded its capacity to cope with everything it is processing. Often, the most helpful thing someone can do is remain calm, reduce demands, lower noise and stimulation, and allow space without abandoning the person. Support doesn't always mean fixing the problem immediately. Sometimes it means helping someone feel safe enough for their nervous s...

Anti-Social Media So many of my online friends are abandoning Facebook because of the hostility, abuse, and sheer toxicity that has become normalised. As someone living with dynamic disabilities, I completely understand why they feel they need to do it. I've been targeted myself. But it's heartbreaking when you've known people for years—people who were there when you were isolated, housebound, or bedbound—and they're effectively being bullied out of the spaces where you stayed connected. Many disabled people don't have large social circles in real life. Illness, disability, caring responsibilities, trauma, and accessibility barriers can make social media a lifeline rather than a luxury. That's why it's so disheartening to watch amazing people leave because they are exhausted by constant hostility. I've reported threats of violence, hate campaigns, targeted harassment, and posts designed to incite hatred. Too often, nothing happens. No action is taken. No...