Living it, researching it: from struggles in education to shaping the future for disabled students

In today’s blog, Guest Contributor, Chloe Webster-Harris, shares a poignant insight into her journey through university, their life-changing diagnosis as Autistic and ADHD and their progression to being a co-researcher on a project addressing the disparity of support for disabled students in higher education.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been the kind of person who always got good grades. Teachers would tell me how capable I was, how much potential I had. On the outside, it looked like I was doing great, but the reality was very different. All my school reports said the same thing: ‘does not contribute to group discussions’, ‘a quiet girl’ and ‘not living up to potential’. Although I loved learning, education felt incredibly hard for me and despite my grades, I never did A Levels or went to university. At the time, I didn’t understand why school was so exhausting and overwhelming. It just was. When I left education, things didn’t get any easier. In jobs, I constantly felt burnt out, on edge, and even suicidal. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to manage work in the way everyone else did. I thought there was something wrong with me, but I didn’t have the language or understanding to explain it. 

At 25, I decided to give education another go. I went back to college and took an Access to Higher Education course. To my surprise, I passed, and that opened the door for me to finally go to university to study clinical psychology. In 2019, I started my degree, full of hope but also nervous about what lay ahead. It didn’t take long for the challenges to appear. University was tough. I didn’t make any friends and being in classes felt overwhelming. The lecture halls, the lunchrooms, even the corridors all felt too much. The lights were too bright, the spaces too crowded, and the noise too intense.

At that time, I had a diagnosis of borderline personality disorder and I applied for Disabled Students’ Allowance (DSA). While I did get some support, like funding for a laptop, the reasonable adjustments suggested to me didn’t really help. The truth was, I didn’t even know what kind of adjustments to ask for. I didn’t understand what they could look like or how they might make a difference. Communication with the university wasn’t great, and when the COVID-19 pandemic hit in 2020, things got even worse. Lockdown left me feeling incredibly isolated and lonely, like nobody understood what I was going through. Even after lockdown ended, going back into lectures felt nearly impossible, and I often procrastinated until the last possible minute because I was convinced nothing I produced would ever be good enough. Somehow, I still managed to scrape through, and in 2022, I graduated. But the experience left me drained and frustrated by the lack of meaningful support. 

“...learning to ask for support has been one of the most important parts of my journey. ”

After graduating, I began working in higher education as an open research coordinator and later as a research assistant. But I could only manage part-time work: full-time was just too overwhelming. In 2023, I started my PhD in Psychology at the University of Wolverhampton. Halfway through my first year, I finally received a diagnosis of Autism and ADHD. Suddenly, everything made sense. I understood why I struggled so much in education, why work had been so draining and why I could be highly organised one day and completely unable to function the next. Getting that diagnosis was life-changing. For the first time, I could advocate for myself. I learned how to ask for reasonable adjustments that actually helped me. And when those supports were in place, I started to thrive. It wasn’t easy. It took a lot of courage to admit I needed help after so many years of coping (badly) on my own. But learning to ask for support has been one of the most important parts of my journey. 

Recently, I had the opportunity to join an Office for Students (OfS) funded project as a co-researcher, working with the University of Wolverhampton, the University of Birmingham and the University of Plymouth. The project focuses on addressing the disparity of support for disabled students in higher education. We are working to identify the gaps in support and create CPD training for both student services and academic staff so that all students, regardless of disability, receive equal and effective support. 

“I know what it feels like to struggle, to feel unseen and to not get the help you need.”

What makes this project especially powerful is that all of us co-researchers are disabled students ourselves. We bring our lived experiences into the research, which means the guidance we’ll be creating won’t be just theoretical: it will be grounded in reality. For me, being part of this project is deeply personal. I know what it feels like to struggle, to feel unseen and to not get the help you need. That’s why I’m determined to make sure the changes we recommend are practical, meaningful and reflect the diverse needs of all disabled students.  

This project represents hope for real change. It’s about levelling the playing field, so disabled students don’t just survive in higher education, but actually thrive. It’s about making sure universities understand that reasonable adjustments aren’t just tick-box exercises. They’re vital tools for equality. And most importantly, it’s about ensuring that disabled students across the UK feel seen, heard, and supported in a way that empowers them to reach their full potential. 

For me, this is more than just research. It’s my story, and it’s the story of so many others who have been left behind for too long. And now, I finally get to help change that.