12/08/2026
I’ve been reading the recent Times opinion piece by Kathleen Stock, “Why are young women using walking sticks?”, and I wanted to say something about it because, as somebody who has lived with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome for my entire life, some of the language and assumptions in the article really concern me.
The article questions why increasing numbers of young women appear to be using walking sticks, wheelchairs and other mobility aids, and refers to young women having “strangely unstable bodies that intermittently require support”.
It also talks about seeing young wheelchair users stand or walk, almost as though that in itself should make us question whether they really need the wheelchair.
But this completely overlooks something incredibly important:
Not all wheelchair users are unable to walk.
Ambulatory wheelchair users exist.
Somebody might be able to stand, take a few steps, walk around their home or manage a short distance, yet still need a wheelchair for longer distances, pain management, fatigue, joint instability, breathlessness, falls prevention or simply to conserve enough energy to actually participate in life.
Seeing somebody stand up from a wheelchair tells you absolutely nothing about whether they genuinely need that wheelchair.
The same applies to walking sticks, crutches, braces and other mobility aids.
A person using a walking stick one day and not the next does not automatically mean they do not need it.
Chronic illnesses and disabilities can fluctuate.
Symptoms can change from day to day and sometimes even from hour to hour.
One of the parts I found particularly uncomfortable was the suggestion that, in some groups, young people may be being told to focus more on unpleasant feelings because those feelings might make them feel “special” or “excused from the pressures of life”.
Later, the article says:
“We owe it to young people to challenge neuroticism and fear.”
And towards the end, mobility aids are referred to as “props”.
That language matters.
A walking stick isn’t a prop when it stops somebody falling.
A wheelchair isn’t a prop when it enables somebody to leave their house.
Braces aren’t props when they support unstable joints.
Mobility aids are tools. They can provide safety, independence, pain reduction, energy conservation and freedom.
If somebody genuinely wants to understand why more young women are presenting with symptoms of conditions such as EDS, HSD, POTS, fibromyalgia or chronic fatigue, surely the answer is to speak to the medical professionals who are actually looking after these women.
Speak to the specialists.
Speak to researchers.
Speak to physiotherapists, occupational therapists and other healthcare professionals who work with people with chronic illnesses and disabilities every day.
And most importantly, speak to the people actually living with these conditions.
Ask questions.
Listen.
Try to understand.
Be curious rather than judgemental.
Because looking at somebody from the outside and deciding what their body should or shouldn’t be capable of shows a real lack of understanding about disability.
Not all disabilities are visible.
Not every wheelchair user is completely unable to walk.
Not every person with a chronic illness looks ill.
And somebody having a good hour, a good day or managing to do something once does not tell you what their body is dealing with afterwards.
Something else that I think gets completely overlooked in conversations like this is what happens behind closed doors.
You might see somebody out with a walking stick, crutches or a wheelchair for an hour or two.
What you don’t see is what it took for them to get there.
You don’t see the pain afterwards.
You don’t see the exhaustion.
You don’t see the days when they cannot go out at all.
You don’t see the falls, unstable joints, sleepless nights, hospital appointments, medical procedures, frustration or tears.
You don’t see the recovery time after doing something that might look completely ordinary to everybody else.
And you certainly don’t see how difficult it can be emotionally for somebody to accept that they need a mobility aid in the first place.
For me personally, mobility aids have always been part of my life. I’ve never really known anything different.
But that isn’t everybody’s experience.
For somebody who has previously walked everywhere independently, suddenly needing a walking stick can be a huge change.
Then perhaps it becomes crutches.
Perhaps eventually they need a wheelchair.
That adjustment can be incredibly difficult.
There can be grief involved.
Fear.
Anger.
Embarrassment.
Worry about losing independence.
Worry about how strangers will look at them.
Worry that people will judge them because they are “too young” to be disabled.
And worry that somebody will accuse them of faking because they happened to stand up from their wheelchair or because yesterday they managed without their stick.
Imagine finally reaching the point where you accept that a mobility aid could give you some independence back, only to open a newspaper and see mobility aids described as “props”.
We simply do not know what another person has gone through to reach the point where we happen to see them.
There absolutely can and should be sensible conversations about social media, health misinformation, self-diagnosis and making sure people receive thorough, evidence-based medical assessments.
But those conversations can happen without dismissing people with chronic illness, without assuming someone is exaggerating because their disability fluctuates, and without making judgements based on what somebody looks like.
To me, this article demonstrates exactly why disability awareness is still so important.
Instead of asking:
“Why is that young woman using a walking stick?”
as though there must be something suspicious about it, perhaps the better question is:
“What might that young woman be living with that I cannot see?”
Less judgement.
More listening.
More understanding.
And above all, more empathy and compassion. 💙🦓
