Designing While Disabled
I didn’t build Angell Designs in spite of my disabilities. I built it because of them.
Not at first, though.
In the beginning, I tried to work like everyone else. Hustle culture was the blueprint: fast turnarounds, endless availability, pushing through exhaustion because that’s what “real” entrepreneurs did.
But here’s the thing: pretending you’re not disabled doesn’t make you successful. It will only make you sicker.
I burned out. Hard. Multiple times over. Hospitalised. Isolated. Lost in that fog of guilt where resting feels like failure and slowing down feels like weakness. But through that darkness, I began to learn something important: my body was never the enemy. The system I was trying to force it into was.
So I began to reimagine everything.
What is Disability-Informed Business Design?
Disability-informed business design is about creating a business that works with your body, not against it. It means building processes, timelines, and expectations around accessibility, flexibility, and care for yourself and your clients.
It’s not just about physical access like ramps or captions. It’s about designing for fluctuating energy, mental health, pain, brain fog, sensory needs etc. It’s acknowledging that you are not a machine and neither are your clients.
Some guiding questions I asked myself as I redesigned my business:
What does sustainability really mean to me?
What would it look like to stop pretending I can function at full capacity every day?
How can I prevent burnout instead of recovering from it over and over?
The answers weren’t quick. But they were honest and led me to a slower, gentler, more intentional way of doing business.
Pacing My Energy
One of the most radical things I’ve done for my business is build in space.
I live with lupus, chronic pain, bipolar, ADHD, and autism. My capacity isn’t predictable. Some days I’m on fire with creativity. Other days I can barely move. That’s not failure. It’s fluctuation. So I stopped designing for consistency and started designing for reality.
Here’s what it looks like for me, in practice:
Long-form project timelines with built in buffer weeks
Structured “off” periods after launches to rest and recalibrate
Client calls booked only on low-sensory days
Systems that allow me to work asynchronously when I’m non-verbal or low-energy
A flexible calendar that expects fluctuation
The result? I stopped feeling like I was falling behind. And my clients? They stopped feeling rushed.
Building Systems that Prevent Burnout
My systems used to run me. Now, they support me.
Instead of endless lists and more significantly, tight deadlines, I’ve built a studio model that prioritises rest, clarity, and repeatable flow. Things like:
Share Notion board that allow for real-time collaboration and delegation without urgency
Templates that streamline my branding processes without sacrificing customisation
Transparent project timelines so no one feels left in the dark
These aren’t just tools for me, they’re boundaries. They’re the infrastructure of a business that respects disability as a creative constraint, not a limitation.
Client Communication Rooted in Care
Being disabled has made me a better communicator. I’m clearer. More grounded. More compassionate.
I tell my clients from the start: I move at a more sustainable pace. I will show up fully, but not endlessly. And that makes them feel safer too.
Because truthfully, most people are exhausted. Most people want more time, more flexibility, more understanding. And when you lead with that? It gives them permission to do the same.
Here’s how that translate into my client experience:
Thoughtful welcome packs that outline expectations clearly
Space in every project for questions, changes, or slow weeks
No pressure to perform, just an invitation to connect
Celebrating progress (not perfection)
This isn’t just a disability-informed business. It’s a human-informed one.
From Survival to Strategy
Here’s something I want to be fully transparent about: I didn’t figure this all out right away.
I tried to do it what I thought was the “normal” way. The way it looked on Instagram. Fast-paced, always-on, full-capacity productivity. I ignored my body. I overbooked. I said yees when I was already in searing pain. I internalised every crash as failure and every slowdown as weakness.
And then I obviously burned out. Hard. More than once. I spiralled through hospital visits, depressive episodes, medication side effects, and intense waves of guilt that I wasn’t “cut out for this.”=
But really? The burnout wasn’t my fault. And it’s not yours either.
What I came to realise is that the business world wasn’t built for people like me. People who are disabled, neurodivergent, chronically ill, carrying trauma, moving through life with unpredictable capacity. So I stopped trying to fit into it, and started building something that could hold me.
Something that didn’t just “make space” for my body but rather shaped by it.
I redesigned everything: how I work, how I deliver services, how I pace my energy and communicate expectations. I shifted from survival mode into strategy mode. And now, every part of my studio at the very least tries to reflect that evolution from the systems behind the scenes to the way I speak to clients.
I’m still learning. Still adjusting. Still human.
I mess up. I overdo it sometimes. I rest when I didn’t’ plan to.
But the difference now is that I’ve built a business that lets me come as I am and lets my clients do the same.
This is a craft. A conscious decision to design my business in a way that honours my reality instead of fighting it every single goddamn day.
Because if the work doesn’t support your wellbeing, what’s it really for?
What does all this mean for my clients?
This isn’t just about me. This shift from survival to sustainability doesn’t just help me. It transforms the experience for my clients too.
Because of the way I’ve designed Angell Designs, my clients get:
Clarity without pressure…
Every part of the process is mapped out with check-ins, expectations, and space to breathe.
Flexible timelines…
I work with clients, not against their capacity. Whether you’re balancing your business with a chronic illness, a full-time job, a family, or your mental health; we build timelines that honour your rhythm.
Accessible options…
I offer asynchronous communication, video call feedback, written explanations, and various other methods so you’re not tied only to energy-zapping online conferences.
A branding process rooted in trust…
We go deep into your story, values, and voice but we don’t rush the process. We move at a pace that’s sustainable and meaningful.
A creative partner who honours your access needs too…
I invited conversations about what support you need, how you prefer to receive feedback, and how we can make the process feel safe, spacious, and genuinely empowering.
And yes… the design work? It’s strategic, beautiful, and bold. But more importantly, it feels like you. Because that’s what branding should me.
Regardless of if you work with me through a full Brand & Identity package, a Social Media Design Management project, a Website design or upgrade, or a gentle Brand Audit; the heart is always the same:
Branding that makes room for your whole self
Design that centres connection over perfection
Strategy that feels aligned rather than exhausting.
I work mostly with small business owners, many of whom are also chronically ill, neurodivergent, or overwhelmed by the business world. My studio was designed with them in mind. With you in mind.
We don’t do branding like it’s a race. For me, branding is a relationship; thoughtful, flexible… human!
None of this is about being perfect. I still get it wrong. I still overdo it. I still have days where I think I’m totally behind.
But the difference now? I’ve built a business that allows for softness. That plans for stillness. That makes space for real life, not some hyper-productive fantasy version of it.
So if you’re tired of trying to squeeze your brilliance into someone else’s blueprint… If you want a brand that’s built with you in mind, I’d love to work with you!
