Am I an activist?

 Hello, my name is Sophie and I am an activist. 

It has taken me so long to get to this point. I used to believe I was an activist failed, that I had tried so hard and fallen at every hurdle. It wasn't a name I would have claimed for myself out of shame for being an angry disabled person.

The reality is I'm not angry. I'm not an angry person; anger isn't really an emotion I have access to. Instead I'm a worrier who likes to help people. It makes my activism quite unusual and very effective. I've achieved a lot throughout my life, but I've had two major wins.

The first win was my first ever accidental attempt at activism. I became an activist aged 14 whilst in hospital with severe anorexia. I wasn't expected to live, my mum was told to say goodbye. And in typical Sophie style, I decided I wanted to live. I started to eat, and there was hope. The doctors became very dismissive of my struggles. Why can't you just eat more, Sophie? Drink orange juice, Sophie. I was outraged. On the way back from the bathroom I walked past the rounding medical team. 

"Well, that's ward round done. Just the anorexic left."

You can't go through that and not become an activist. At least, I can't. I love activism because it reminds me there is no shame in disability. I am a good person on hard times. I can change the world if I choose. And fourteen-year-old Sophie changed the world. She changed children's eating disorder services in North Yorkshire.

North Yorkshire is a huge county in the north of England. It's very rural, and has a high incidence of eating disorders (just like everywhere else in the UK). I was seen by CAMHS and treated by a psychiatrist who I didn't like. She didn't understand my eating disorder at all. I spent hours writing her letters explaining what anorexia felt like to me and what treatment I thought I needed. It had no impact, nothing changed and I aged out of the system just as unwell as when I entered. Before I left, I signed a consent form allowing them to use my writing in their work.

Six years later mum was working as a mental health advocate in Bradford. She went to a talk about eating disorders, and there was my psychiatrist! She was speaking in her capacity as head of all eating disorder services in Yorkshire. She was particularly proud of the booklet about understanding eating disorders which they gave to every young person who entered the service. Mum was very impressed by all the improvements. At the end of the talk the psychiatrist approached mum and said, "Hi Claire, how's Sophie?" Mum was shocked she remembered her. The psychiatrist gave mum a copy of the children's booklet. It contained three pieces of my writing. She said my words had made her re evaluate everything she thought she knew about eating disorders. She said I had changed things. To this day, those pieces of writing remain the best thing I have ever done.

My second win was at Oxford University. I was in my early twenties, a mature student reading for a degree in biomedical science. In my spare time, I was vice chair of the Oxford SU Disabilities Campaign, where I got my grounding in formal activism. I ran the social side of the campaign, which consisted of socials, peer support groups and communication-based activism. I focused on part time degree courses. I was one of the first undergrads to study part time at Oxford, and I helped other people self advocate for similar adjustments to degree programs. Now it isn't unusual for disabled students to study part time, and I feel proud to be part of the movements that brought about that change.

I didn’t think I was an activist because activism is loud, proud and angry. I've realised advocacy is my specialism, and within advocacy I can be quiet, proud and entirely myself. I grew up with a tiny voice, so I've developed fantastic active listening skills. I've existed in the system long enough that I know my way around the various acts relating to disability and mental health, and I'm creative enough to find solutions where no solutions exist. I adore team work, and when disabled people collaborate we change the world. I have watched the world shift under the pressure of my voice more than once, and my voice is not loud. As I said to everyone on the mental health ward: Raise your shoes for the millions missing! We can hear you!