This is a big question, which basically gave birth to this space. Before I became a mother (which by the way, is the only thing I have always known I’ve wanted to be in this life), I had no idea that my disability had me so at odds with this dream in a supposedly developed society.

I felt like the only disabled mother on the face of the planet. I’m not, I’m happy to report. I have found people, soldiering on in their dream with a body that’s against you and your whims and wills. But the world at large seems to cope better by making us small, invisible and at odds.

That’s why this space is increasingly important to me. Because I have a voice and I must use it, to report struggle, truth and triumph and to allow myself, despite all of my struggles, to be big and heard and to take up the space I am entitled to.

We are off on holiday in a few weeks. We’re going to Italy, somewhere I have always wanted to travel. Got my girls their passports, started learning the language. Then we came to the travel insurance.

Kev obviously had his Crohn’s diagnosis to report and we were taking bets on which one of us would push up the premium, given that our girls are, thankfully, the picture of health.

But we couldn’t get any quotes. Not one.

“It’ll be me.” I said glumly. I’d had a similar experience trying to get life insurance when we bought our house. My premium went up 150%.

Kev looked at me sympathetically and said “No, I’ve had to declare meds. You’re healthier than I am!”

But after 5 minutes trying to adjust the information for the quote, he said guiltily:

“I’m just going to take you off and see what happens.” Tap-tap-tap. Another grim smile. “Sorry babe.”

“What?”

He tilted the screen at me, showing that he and our girls could be insured for our trip for less than £20 on a family policy.

“Am I not supposed to have a family then?” I questioned bitterly.

“I really don’t think the world of insurance thinks so, babe, no.”

“That really sucks.”

He kept tapping and after a few minutes told me: “I can insure you on your own for £7.”

On my own. For pennies. But the idea of existing on a family policy had rendered the whole endeavour incompletable.

I realise it is a small, pathetic thing, but it is not insignificant. Because it shows that the attitude grows through every fibre in the fabric of our society.

Cerebral palsy has several types, each with spectrums of severity. No such questions were asked along these lines, to gauge my difficulties, impairments or God forbid, my capabilities. The bloody insurance algorithm in its (human imparted) wisdom has decided there is no way someone with my condition could have built a family or have independence, autonomy or responsibilities.

I don’t mind saying that I have taken the whole thing entirely personally, head spinning. Because all it would have taken is more questions, more insight from me. But that chance was not afforded. And the truth is that insurance is just the latest service to take this approach. I have had medical professionals astounded that I can speak and walk unaided. Because, still, here, in 2023, the overriding image of a disabled person, is someone likely immobile in a wheelchair, struggling to swallow or communicate.

This is a possible representation of a person with one type or more types of CP. It is not representative of me, nor in fact, many others with types of CP I have met or know.

Disability, though challenging and life-changing is not always severe and it does not render us helpless. That is how this whole experience made me feel. Because no-one involved in creating this process has bothered to engage their human brain, as opposed to their data driven brain. No one has considered that a disabled woman could also be a mother, deserving of a place on a family insurance policy.

Who the hell knew you could feel othered by travel insurance?

Because, here I am. Disabled. But not just disabled. Because I am a Disabled Mummy. And the attitude of the insurance industry clearly sucks. I’d have been open to more questions, if only they had bothered to see me here. Or hear me. Because I can use my own voice. And I will use it today to say again how much they suck.