From Hope to Here:
Today I found something unexpected.
Tucked away between old notebooks and faded photos was one of my “happy books”—the kind I used to make when the world felt too loud and I needed a place to dream. I must’ve been around sixteen when I made it. Back then, life felt like a constant storm of “what ifs” and “will I ever?” but somehow, in the middle of it all, I wrote down a list.
A list of what I wanted to become.
The dreams. The goals. The things I quietly hoped would one day be mine.
And reading it now, I couldn’t help but cry. Not sad tears—just this overwhelming surge of pride, awe, and disbelief.
Because… I’ve done so many of them.
Not perfectly. Not always the way I imagined. But with every ounce of energy I had—fighting through pain, exhaustion, grief, disability, and doubt—I did them. I became them.
I think about that sixteen-year-old girl often.
How she was hurting.
How she had no idea what the next few years would bring.
How people doubted her—how she doubted herself.
How she carried so much, too soon.
And yet, she dreamed anyway.
She wrote that list anyway.
And if she could see me now?
I think she’d cry too.
I think she’d be proud.
I think she’d whisper, “You did it. You really did it.”
And I’d whisper back, “We did it. You started it. I just kept going.”
This is your reminder that growth isn’t always loud. It isn’t always in the spotlight or on a stage. Sometimes, it’s finding an old notebook and realising the version of you who once hoped… is the version you’ve now become.
And that? That’s magic.
Sarah Wingfield ❤️
#blog #disability #disabilityinclusion #strongertogether #disability #disabilityawareness #disabilitysupport #disabilityrights
