This month is Dwarfism Awareness Month.

You’ll see members of the community for and against this period.

And while it’s great to see others picking up the mantle and carrying the torch for educating non-dwarf people around our specific disability, I’m bypassing it this year.

After slowly recovering from a significant period of burnout, I’m hesitant to share warts and all about what life is like as a 4ft 4” primordial dwarf. It takes a significant toll personally, and dare I say, professionally.

Perhaps I am jaded about the effectiveness that sees people who are already traumatised having to remind those who will never understand our lives, When the community is still feeling the brunt end of prejudice and ignorance on the street, at work and in education. What impact does an awareness month have beyond people who are already willing to listen and learn? Unlike those with laughing eyes, sharp mouths, and sharper indifference…

Bullies are making a comeback and taking a stronghold, showing how fragile support actually is and was.

Inclusion is an ever disappearing privilege due whichever politician, political party or newspaper columnist wants to do a hit job on the disability community, this week, giving permission for many to avert their eyes, ears, and dare I say, less of a willingness to care, in the fight to keep their own heads above water, and place in society. Punching down and indifference, however assiduous, has never been so popular…

There has been sustained hostility towards disabled people in the U.K for over 16 years – from sucessive governments and the media to justify their own incomptence and agendas. I think we have a right to be concerned, and take a break from having to relentlessly pushback from the narrative and the impact it has on our own health.

I know that I should face and overcome this malaise. Yet, I cannot stick a cheery smile on my face and say everything will be okay when the structures of society are creaking under continued austerity and attacks on our rights as people.

I don’t know what the answer is, but there is a wider conversation to be had about the long-term impact on negative attitudes and treatment of disabled people in the U.K.

I do wonder if I will live long enough to see the tide turn and not be seen as a burden on society. To not always have to be someone’s life lesson in how to behave and treat all people with dignity, kindess and respect.

And this is where my tired, burnout self’s sliver of hope sits. What is defined as hope as a person with Dwarfism and as a disabled person in today’s climate? I’ve been ruminating over this for a while.

And the only idea that keeps coming bacl to me – is that we own these awareness days and month’s for ourselves.

Ditch educating the masses for a few weeks, and revel in our shared lived experiences. Pride, I guess. To take pride and ownership of our identities and lives, and have some fun for ourselves. A joyous celebration of ourselves without having to worry about how others will treat and perceive us, or how it will impact the support we receive.

Perhaps we can aim for that next October when Dwarfism Awareness Month rolls around again.

What a time to be alive, hey.