Nadia on... disability

Despite having a public-facing job, I’m usually a very private person. So, when I had to take a leave of absence from my role as an MP three years ago, the last thing I wanted was for people to know why. Speaking publicly about my PTSD diagnosis was one of the most difficult choices I’ve ever had to make, but it was also one of the most important.

By being honest about my experience, I no longer had to keep anything hidden. Although there was some vile commentary from alt-right media, the strength and breadth of support I received helped reduce the shame I felt about needing to take time off work. I took comfort in the many messages I received from constituents saying that my openness and the reaction from others had helped them. However, I was also painfully aware that not everyone can take time off work when they are unwell or even access basic mental health treatment. There are sixteen million Disabled people in the UK, making up just under a quarter of the population. Many don’t get the support they need, so my experience has made me determined to use my public platform to push for systemic change.

PTSD is just one of my disabilities. I also have ADHD, something that my friends and colleagues are well aware of but which I’ve rarely discussed in articles or interviews. At the beginning of this year, I was also diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. I’m now choosing to speak about having multiple hidden disabilities, for many of the same reasons I previously shared my experience of PTSD.

Each of my impairments affects me in different ways, often making daily life and work challenging. Crohn’s brings severe pain and fatigue, with unpredictable flare-ups often causing last-minute cancellations that leave me frustrated as I learn to accept my body’s limits. PTSD, though caused by events completely unrelated to my role as an MP, has impacted my ability to work. ADHD adds further difficulties; even with extra alarms and notes, there are times I’ll be so focused on remembering an appointment that I’ll forget I haven’t stocked the fridge. It can feel like having a million tabs open in your brain at once, and while you flick between them, they all struggle to load.

Some days feel like a battle against my body, especially when all three conditions conspire to make me feel completely crushed, with physical pain, flashbacks, and executive dysfunction all at once. Hiding the extent of my disabilities is increasingly difficult and exhausting and only compounds the sense of shame I’ve internalised about my body ‘not working’. No one should feel that way, and by being silent I’m not going to perpetuate it for myself or, by extension, anyone else. I know I’m not alone, 9 out of 10 Disabled people (87%) who had experienced negative attitudes or behaviour said it had a negative impact on their daily lives. 

The causes of my disabilities vary. ADHD isn’t an illness; it simply means that my brain works a bit differently, and that I have different needs. In contrast, Crohn’s disease and PTSD are conditions that are hard to live with: Crohn’s is an autoimmune disease with no known cause or cure, although it can be managed to some extent with medication, while PTSD results from trauma inflicted on a person. Disabilities vary in how they’re caused, how they present, and they can overlap. We should build a society that reflects this, using the social model of disability – which focuses on tackling the barriers that society creates, rather than the impairment or difference of a person. These barriers can be found in the workplace, in public spaces and even at home.

After fourteen years of Tory governments that have victimised and scapegoated Disabled people – many of whom suffered the worst effects of austerity – I want our new Labour government to chart a very different path, one where Disabled people are not just protected but empowered, and where the right to dignity, independence, and equal opportunity is guaranteed rather than conditional. We could live in a society where the NHS is fully funded and accessible, providing quick, comprehensive support for both physical and mental health needs. A society in which social security genuinely offers security, with benefits that enable people to live, not just survive.

So how do we get there?

Firstly, we must accept that not everyone is able to work and that work isn’t the barometer of a person’s worth. Social security should be high enough for people to live in comfort. But for those Disabled people who want and are able to work, employment must be genuinely accessible. This means dismantling the many barriers they currently face: workplace discrimination, lack of flexible working, unequal pay, and long NHS waiting lists. Labour’s New Deal for Working People and the latest injection of NHS funding are steps in the right direction, but these efforts must be matched by a complete overhaul of the DWP: no more sanctions, no more punishing people for being sick or Disabled, no more ‘strivers vs skivers’.

Secondly, our councils, gutted by cuts of 18% per person in real terms under the Tories – with Nottingham alone losing £100m per year under the Tories – must have their funding restored to provide essential social care, affordable housing, and community centres and green spaces for everyone. These aren’t luxuries; they’re investments in a society that values all of its people. Local plans for every aspect of life must address the specific needs of Disabled people from the outset, not as an afterthought. The truth is, we all stand to benefit from measures that uplift the most vulnerable and marginalised among us. Disability, illness, or hardship could come for any of us, at any time.

Finally, the Disabled People’s Manifesto, put together by a diverse and united collective of Deaf and Disabled people-led groups across the UK, calls for representation across all political and public roles, with the required adjustments put in place. When Disabled people have a direct voice in decision-making, policies are more likely to address real needs and barriers faced by the community. All too often, policies are shaped without the insights of those most affected, leading to gaps in access, support, and equality. As it stands, while nearly a quarter of the population is Disabled, high estimates show that only 7% of MPs are.

A world where the lived realities of Disabled people are visible and valued at every level of society is one worth striving for. I don’t feel like my disabilities are a ‘superpower’, but I do feel that in many ways they make me a better MP. These are experiences shared by so many, and people should see them reflected by their representatives – whether at an advice surgery or in Parliament.

nadiawhittome.org