I was 39 when I sustained a C5 spinal cord injury. In a moment, life changed, and with it came the wheelchair, the barriers, and—what I didn’t expect—the mirror it held up to my own assumptions.

Ten years on, I can say this with clarity: One of the the most confronting parts of becoming ‘disabled’ was the moment I realised I had spent my life unconsciously ‘othereing’ people who looked like the person I am today.

That realisation hit hard. It forced me to admit that I had internalised society’s ableism long before I ever got injured. And now, living in a body marked by that difference, I could finally see just how deep that bias runs.

We live in a world that consistently and quietly labels anything that diverges from the norm as “less than.” That idea is embedded in our language, our systems, our media—and even in our well-meaning efforts at inclusion. It’s in the word disability itself.

Let’s stop pretending that word is neutral. It isn’t.

Break it down: dis-ability. The prefix “dis” implies absence, failure, something broken or wrong. To be “disabled” is, linguistically and symbolically, to be not able. And yet, it’s the term we continue to use—academics, researchers, policy-makers, even advocates.

We are identified by a word that fundamentally denies our capacity. And we rarely question it.

We cannot challenge unconscious bias if we keep reinforcing it with the very language we use to define people. We cannot build equity on a foundation that subtly devalues the people we claim to uplift. The word disability is not just a descriptor—it is a barrier. A quiet wall of assumption, pity, fear, and exclusion.

It’s time we talk about that.

Because until we name the role that language plays in shaping attitudes and policies, we will keep spinning our wheels in the mud of good intentions.

This isn’t about political correctness. It’s about power. It’s about who gets to define whom—and how.

I don’t have the perfect word to replace disability yet. But I know this: if we’re serious about change, we need to be serious about language. Words shape perception. Perception shapes action. And action is what turns inclusion from a nice idea into a lived reality.

Let’s be brave enough to question even the words we take for granted.

Let’s start with disability.