The Lasting Impact of Discrimination

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about discrimination and just how often it happens.

For so many disabled people, it isn’t a rare occurrence or a one-off bad experience; it can be daily life. It happens in obvious ways, subtle ways and sometimes in moments you would never expect.

It has made me reflect on the first time I truly experienced discrimination myself. Strangely, it wasn’t at a point in my life when I even considered myself disabled.

I have lived with Epilepsy for most of my life. I started having seizures when I was five years old, but after several seizure-free years we believed I may have “grown out of it”. Then, as a teenager, the seizures returned.
At the time, though, I didn’t let it stop me doing anything. Of course there were moments of frustration and embarrassment, and the medication often made me feel lethargic, but I still did everything I wanted to do. I didn’t see myself as limited and I certainly didn’t think it affected my abilities.

Swimming was my world.

I was a competitive county-level swimmer and spent most of my time training, racing and travelling to galas at weekends. The pool was somewhere I felt confident, capable and completely myself.

Then one weekend, that changed.

For anyone unfamiliar with swimming galas, swimmers receive a list showing which heats they are competing in. When your race approaches, you line up with the other swimmers, walk around poolside and prepare to race. At this particular gala, however, my name wasn’t on the list. I had entered the competition. My parents had paid the fee. I had signed in that morning alongside my teammates. Yet when it came time for my race, I wasn’t there.

After some confusion and investigation, we discovered why: the organisers had decided I wasn’t allowed to swim because I had Epilepsy.

I remember being heartbroken and completely confused. I trained in the pool almost every single day with my club teammates. Why was I suddenly considered unsafe here? Why was I being treated differently?
There were tears, arguments and frustration. I remember my mum and my coach fighting for me to be allowed to compete. We were told that the lifeguards “wouldn’t be able to look after me” if I had a seizure in the water — despite the fact I had never had a seizure while swimming.

Eventually, after all the discussions and disagreements, I was allowed to swim.
But by then I had already missed my race.
As a result, I had to race against the boys instead.

I was around 13 or 14 years old when that happened, and yet I still remember every detail nearly 20 years later. That alone shows the impact discrimination can have on someone.

People often dismiss these moments as misunderstandings, over-caution or “just policy”, but they leave lasting marks. They make people feel excluded, unwanted and different. They create barriers where there never needed to be one.

Now, as an ambulatory wheelchair user, discrimination has become something I encounter far more regularly — and honestly, that is unacceptable in 2026.

Over the past year, I have received more and more messages from disabled swimmers asking for advice after being told they cannot participate in events. Some have been told an event “isn’t suitable” for wheelchair users. Others have encountered organisers unwilling to consider simple, reasonable adaptations that would allow them to take part safely and fairly.

That is not inclusion.

Too often, disabled people are expected to fit rigid systems rather than organisations being willing to adapt, listen and work with them. Accessibility is still treated as an inconvenience instead of a necessity.
What frustrates me most is that many of the barriers disabled people face are entirely avoidable. In so many cases, the solution is communication, flexibility and willingness.

Disabled people do not need pity. They do not need to be excluded “for their own good”. What they need is to be listened to, respected and included.

There has to be a shift in mindset away from immediately focusing on why someone can’t do something and towards asking: How can we make this possible?

Because accessibility should never be an afterthought.

No one should be prevented from participating in sport, community or everyday life simply because other people are unwilling to make reasonable adjustments.

Sport has the power to build confidence, connection and belonging. Everyone deserves access to that.

Experiences like mine are exactly why I feel so determined to continue fighting for better accessibility and inclusion within swimming and open water sport. Progress is happening, but not quickly enough.

Disabled people should not still be battling these same barriers in 2026.

We deserve better than exclusion disguised as safety.