Self-Care in Disability Inclusion Work: Why It Matters and What It Really Looks Like

We don’t talk about this enough.

Disability inclusion work is rewarding, challenging, frustrating, and at times downright exhausting. It’s work that asks you to hold stories of exclusion, sit with resistance, navigate systems that weren’t built for us, and push for change that can feel painfully slow.

And here’s the truth: you can’t do that without it taking something from you.

Why Self-Care Isn’t Optional

I’ve been doing this work long enough to know that “self-care” gets tossed around as a buzzword. Something fluffy, something individualised, something you sort out on your own time.

But in disability inclusion, self-care isn’t indulgence — it’s survival.

That’s especially true because this work is so often led by people with lived experience — people like me. We bring our whole selves into the work, not just our professional skills. That makes the work powerful, but it also makes it personal.

• Hearing stories of ableism is emotionally heavy. Whether it’s through focus groups, surveys, or one-on-one conversations, every data point is a person’s lived experience.

• Navigating resistance (the defensiveness, the “we’re already inclusive,” the endless pushback) wears you down.

• Being the one pointing out invisible barriers is isolating. You’re often the voice in the room that makes others uncomfortable.

Without strategies for self-care, burnout isn’t just possible — it’s inevitable. And burnout helps no one.

What Self-Care Actually Looks Like

Forget the bubble baths. Here’s what I’ve learned self-care looks like in practice:

• Boundaries. Knowing when to say no to work that isn’t aligned, or when to pause before saying yes.

• Debriefing. Talking through heavy stories with trusted peers, mentors, or networks (like the Disability Inclusion Network) rather than carrying them alone.

• Time-blocking recovery. If a week is heavy with focus groups or consultation, building in space after for processing — not just ploughing on.

• Celebrating small wins. Not waiting for the big systemic shift to acknowledge progress, but noticing the moments that show change is possible.

• Community. Surrounding yourself with people who “get it.” Because doing this work in isolation is the quickest road to exhaustion.

The Tension We Sit With

Self-care in this space isn’t neat or easy.

On the one hand, we need to take care of ourselves to continue doing the work. On the other hand, the barriers we’re up against don’t pause because we need a break. That tension is real — and it can make you feel guilty for resting.

But here’s the thing: if the work is about creating sustainable cultures of inclusion, shouldn’t our own approach to the work also be sustainable?

Over to You

How do you look after yourself in this work?

Whether you’re in HR, DEI, community development, or leadership, the emotional load is real. What strategies have you found to make the work sustainable?

PS: If you’re looking for a space to connect with others doing this work, the Disability Inclusion Network meets every month. It’s a place for honest conversations, questions, and mutual support.