I won’t lie. At first, I hated the idea of using support workers. I felt like I’d be essentially paying someone to hang out with me which was a new low in my loneliness and dependency, something internalised ableism attacks me for, any chance it gets. But needing support doesn’t make me weak or less than, no matter what my brain snarls on its worst days. In fact, it does the opposite for someone like me, who at 25 is pretty over relying on her parents for absolutely everything. While I’ll always love and seek their support first, old habits die hard, it’s perfectly normal and healthy for me to want to have independence and parts of my life that are entirely separate to them. Support workers enable me to do that.

Together, we’ve done things I never thought would be possible. Things like living away from home to shoot movies and TV shows. Travelling the country for speaking engagements. Going out with friends for birthday parties in bars or one very memorable clubbing experience. They’ve even stayed with me while m parents travelled overseas and my next big goal is to leave Mum & Dad behind while I do the same. Eventually, I’d love to move out. Have a space all my own. The sky’s the limit.

It’s not always easy to face or build the quickfire intimacy you essentially have to build with complete strangers. Especially not when their main tasks involve things like helping you in the bathroom or getting dressed. Sometimes, it won’t work out simply because you’re not going to gel  with everyone and that can feel a bit like pushing a square peg into a round hole. But that’ OK. Finding the people who are the right fit for you though, well that feels like catching gold dust and getting to hang out with a whole bunch of new friends. Seems worth the risk to me.