Meet Nenia:
Honestly, I didn't think very much about accessibility for much of my life.
Although I've been dealing with the symptoms of EDS, Endometriosis, and mild POTS for decades, I never would have labeled myself as disabled. I was adapting, overcoming, and, dare I say it, even thriving. In 2020, I was a police officer, doing CrossFit six days a week for fun, and hiking 4,000-foot mountains in my spare time. Pushing my body to its limits was just a normal Tuesday for me.
Then I got sick. Suddenly, those chronic illness symptoms that I usually pushed through became debilitating, impossible to ignore, and all-consuming. Additionally, a whole new collection of symptoms became a part of my everyday life and, just like that, disability took over. I could barely get out of bed, never mind push myself to participate in the activities I had previously loved.
I felt completely betrayed by my body.
A body I had once been able to trust to keep me alive in some pretty intense situations was now fighting just to breathe normally. I had to give up my career as a police officer, along with many of my other favorite activities.
I felt trapped inside my body.
I started using a wheelchair in 2021. As I started navigating the world in my chair, I quickly learned two things:
1. My wheelchair was the device that gave me the freedom to continue exploring the world.
2. The world was not designed to allow me to explore it from my chair.
It was frustrating to have a tool that gave me my life back, only to have it thwarted by a single step that could — and should—have been a ramp. Where I hadn't previously noticed accessibility barriers, I now saw them everywhere.
But the most discouraging barrier was in my own closet.
The clothes I had previously loved no longer loved me back. They caught in my wheels, they bunched uncomfortably, and they didn't hang right.
When I looked for guidance from fashion magazines and clothing ads, there were no seated models, no wheelchair users, and no blueprints for how to style my new life. Shopping online became a game of expensive guesswork. An outfit that looked effortless on a standing mannequin became a tangled mess in my chair.
The solution seems simple: representation in clothing ads using seated models.
This isn't just about the disability community. Almost everyone spends a portion of their day sitting. Seeing how fabric moves and drapes in a seated position benefits everyone.
As Ms. Wheelchair New Hampshire, I’m advocating for a world where we don't have to guess if we fit. Inclusion starts before we buy. By taking the pledge to use seated models in their ads in 2026, companies are committing to changing the future. Representation matters. This is how we change the world!
Want to do more to support Ms. Wheelchair New Hampshire?
You can support Nenia's journey to the Ms. Wheelchair America National stage by donating to her campaign today. Donations are tax-deductible through the Ms. Wheelchair America organization. Follow Ms. Wheelchair NH!
Follow Nenia’s adventures as Ms. Wheelchair New Hampshire 2026, and her journey to the National stage of Ms. Wheelchair America in Grand Rapids, Michigan!