A Toast to Adults Living with Cerebral Palsy
For Cerebral Palsy Awareness Month, a lighthearted toast to the adults who have been living with CP for decades — with resilience, humor, and a little stubborn determination.
March is Cerebral Palsy Awareness Month.
Every year we see the green lights, the statistics, the inspirational quotes, and a lot of really adorable kids doing amazing things. And don’t get me wrong — those stories matter.
Organizations like the Cerebral Palsy Foundation and United Cerebral Palsy do important work raising awareness and supporting families.
But today I’d like to raise a toast to a group that doesn’t always get mentioned quite as often during Cerebral Palsy Awareness Month.
The adults living with cerebral palsy.
Because adults living with cerebral palsy deserve recognition too.
The ones who grew up with it.
The ones who are still living with it.
The ones who know firsthand that CP is not something you outgrow.
Because cerebral palsy is lifelong.
Trust me — I checked. I’ve had it for 55 years. It hasn’t packed up its bags and moved out yet. At this point CP and I are basically old roommates. We don’t always get along, but neither one of us is moving out.
If you’re curious how that journey unfolded, I shared more about my experience in my cerebral palsy life journey.
And, If you’re new here, you can read more about how Wheelchair Daddy started and why I began writing about life with cerebral palsy and fatherhood.
After 55 years, cerebral palsy and I have an understanding: it’s not leaving, and neither am I.
So today, consider this a little toast to adults living with cerebral palsy.
If you have something nearby to drink, raise it. Coffee counts. Honestly, a lot of us are powered primarily by coffee and stubbornness anyway.
And if you happen to have cerebral palsy like I do, just raising the glass can be a bit of an adventure. Between spasticity and shaky hands, there’s always that brief moment where you wonder: am I making a toast… or watering the table?
You know, if you live with cerebral palsy long enough you develop a very special skill set.
Balance problems.
Shaky hands.
Spastic muscles.
Basically, we’re the only people who can spill the drink before the toast even starts.
And let’s be honest — if you see someone with CP holding a full glass during a toast, there’s always that quiet moment where the people nearby are thinking the same thing:
“Should I move my phone?”
But I promise I’ll do my best.
To the Adults Living with Cerebral Palsy Who Grew Up With It
First, a toast to those of us who grew up with cerebral palsy.
To the kids who spent part of their childhood in physical therapy rooms instead of playgrounds. To the ones who learned words like spasticity, gait, and muscle tone long before we had any business knowing vocabulary like that.
Most kids grew up learning multiplication tables. We grew up learning muscle tone.
To the ones who wore braces, used walkers, or learned early how to navigate classrooms and hallways that weren’t exactly designed with us in mind.
And a special toast to those who grew up with speech differences — the ones who sometimes had to repeat themselves, slow down their words, or watch people underestimate them before they even finished a sentence.
If that was you, you know the moment. Someone gives you that puzzled look like they’re trying to solve a crossword puzzle while you’re just trying to finish your sentence.
Meanwhile you’re thinking, Relax… I’m getting there.
You grew up.
And you kept going.
To the Adults Living with Cerebral Palsy Still Figuring It Out
Next, a toast to the adults living with cerebral palsy who are still figuring things out.
Because there’s this strange idea out there that once you reach adulthood with a disability, you must have everything completely figured out. Like the day you turn eighteen someone hands you the official handbook: Congratulations! You now fully understand life with cerebral palsy.
I can confirm — that handbook never arrived.
We’re still adapting. Still learning how to manage energy. Still finding creative ways to move through the world. Still navigating work, relationships, families, and the occasional awkward moment when someone decides to ask personal medical questions in the cereal aisle.
If you live with cerebral palsy long enough, you become a world-class problem solver. Not by choice… but by necessity.
Sometimes we handle it with grace.
Sometimes we handle it with stubborn determination.
And sometimes we handle it by going home and saying,
“Well… that was a day.”
To the Adults Living with Cerebral Palsy Who Built Full Lives
Now let’s raise a glass to the adults living with cerebral palsy who built full lives.
Because if we’re being honest, there were plenty of people who didn’t expect that.
But adults with cerebral palsy became parents. Built careers. Found partners. Started businesses. Built communities.
Not because we were “inspiring.”
It’s because we are human beings who wanted the same things everyone else wants — purpose, connection, family, and maybe a comfortable chair at the end of the day.
Preferably one that supports your back.
That becomes increasingly important after 50.
To the Bodies That Work a Little Harder
Living with cerebral palsy takes effort. Sometimes a lot of effort.
Things that look simple from the outside — walking across a room, speaking clearly, navigating stairs, keeping your balance — can require extra energy.
Even something like raising a glass during a toast can turn into a mild coordination challenge.
But here’s the thing about people with CP.
Give us enough time and we will figure out a way to do something. It might not look the same as everyone else’s way, but it works.
And honestly, that kind of creativity deserves some recognition.
In another post I wrote about why disability access matters more than inspiration, because real inclusion happens when systems and environments are built to include everyone.
A Final Toast to Adults Living with Cerebral Palsy
One interesting thing about adulthood with cerebral palsy is that we don’t always recognize each other right away.
There isn’t just one experience.
Some of us use wheelchairs.
Some walk with difficulty.
Some have speech differences.
Some disabilities are obvious.
Some are quieter.
But adults living with cerebral palsy are out here.
Living our lives.
Raising families.
Working jobs.
Showing up every day.
Often without much attention or recognition.
And honestly, that’s okay.
But during Cerebral Palsy Awareness Month, it might be nice if the world remembered something important:
Cerebral palsy doesn’t belong only to childhood.
It’s a lifelong experience.
Over the past few years, I’ve started noticing something encouraging — more conversations about adults living with cerebral palsy. Not just in blogs like this one, but in interviews, community discussions, and even podcasts dedicated to adult CP experiences. Hearing adults with CP talk openly about life, aging, work, and everyday challenges reminds me how important it is that these voices continue to grow.
And many of us have been living that experience for decades — with resilience, humor, creativity, and yes… a fair amount of stubborn determination.
Cerebral palsy is lifelong. So is the stubborn determination of the people who live with it.
And if you’re an adult living with cerebral palsy reading this, consider this your invitation to raise a glass too.
Whether your glass is steady, shaky, half full, or already spilled a little — you’re part of this community.
So this March, I raise a glass.
Carefully.
Very carefully.
Because if you live with cerebral palsy long enough, you learn that spasticity and a full drink can be a risky combination.
If a little spills along the way, that’s alright.
After all, people with cerebral palsy have been making small adjustments our entire lives.
One more won’t hurt.
So here’s to the adults living with cerebral palsy.
To the ones who kept adapting.
To the ones who built lives that work for them.
And to the ones who are still figuring things out.
Cheers.
— Glenn
Wheelchair Daddy
