More than a first: Making space for every body

Walking at London Fashion Week was one of the most humbling experiences of my life. Fashion can feel like a world built around narrow ideas of perfection, so to be one of the first multi-abled models given that platform felt bigger than one show or one moment under the lights. 

I was proud, nervous and aware that I was representing people who rarely see bodies like theirs celebrated in mainstream culture.

That sense of responsibility stayed with me when I collaborated with Adidas, and later when I worked with Primark for Grazia magazine. These were opportunities I once struggled to imagine, because people like me were often missing from the images that shaped my ambitions. 

To be welcomed into those spaces was exciting, but also emotional. Somewhere, a young person might see the campaign and realise that fashion, sport and creativity belong to them too.

Those milestones are part of my journey, but their meaning reaches beyond me. Every time a multi-abled person appears on a runway, in a magazine or in a campaign, it challenges assumptions about who can represent style, confidence, aspiration and strength. It asks the industry to widen its understanding of beauty.

Representation matters because it expands what we believe is possible. When you never see yourself in magazines, advertising, television or film, it is easy to absorb the message that your story is less important or less worthy of attention. 

That message may be unspoken, but it can shape confidence, ambition and belonging. Visibility cannot solve every barrier faced by multi-abled people, but it can challenge the attitudes that allow those barriers to remain.

I am grateful for the opportunities I have received, but gratitude should not stop us from asking for more. Too often, disabled and multi-abled people are treated as a special feature, a one-off casting choice or an inspiring exception. 

We appear during awareness campaigns and then disappear from the stories that define popular culture. True inclusion means being present without our presence needing an explanation.

I want to see multi-abled models at fashion week, not as a headline-making novelty, but as a natural part of the industry. I want us in beauty campaigns, sports advertising, comedies, dramas and reality shows. 

I want writers, directors, designers and casting teams to understand that our lives contain humour, ambition, romance, failure, style, anger and joy. We are not only stories of overcoming adversity. We are complete human beings.

I especially hope to see multi-abled role models. Children deserve heroes in films who move through the world in different ways, whose strength is not defined by appearing physically “perfect”, and whose difference is not something that must be cured before they can save the day. 

Imagine the impact of a blockbuster hero using adaptive technology, a wheelchair or a prosthetic limb without the story reducing them to their disability. That character would not only inspire multi-abled children; it would teach every child that courage, leadership and power come in many forms.

Progress is happening, and I am proud to have played a small part in it. But being among the first is bittersweet. It is an honour, yet it is also a reminder of how many talented people have been overlooked and how far there is still to go.

My hope is simple: that one day, seeing someone like me on a runway, in a magazine, in a sports campaign or on a cinema screen will not be considered groundbreaking. It will simply be normal. 

Until then, I will continue to step forward with gratitude, pride and purpose, while holding the door open for many more people to follow.