Navigating Disney with Invisible Disabilities

My Experience Being Denied DAS; then having ups and downs on my trip to the Magic Kingdom

As a stroke survivor, I live every day with invisible disabilities—aphasia, apraxia, dysarthria, cognitive and sensory challenges with noise and light. These conditions aren’t always obvious from the outside, but they affect everything from how I communicate to how I navigate crowds, overstimulation, and confusion.

When we planned our family trip to Disney, I wanted what every grandparent wants: to make happy memories with my granddaughter. I knew that long, noisy, visually overwhelming queue lines would trigger my symptoms, but I hoped Disney’s Disability Access Service (DAS) could help me participate fully.

What DAS Is — and Why It Matters

DAS is Disney’s accommodation for guests who cannot tolerate traditional standby lines due to disability. Instead of standing in the physical queue, DAS users receive a return time—allowing them to wait elsewhere in a calmer environment.

DAS is vital for many people with:

• sensory processing disorders

• neurological disabilities

• mobility challenges

• communication difficulties

• anxiety or panic disorders

• cognitive overload

  
  

For people like me, avoiding long queues isn’t a matter of “convenience.” It’s the difference between being able to enjoy an experience or being excluded from it.

Before the Trip: Hope, Preparation, and Worry

I first learned about DAS a couple of years ago from my cousin, whose family used it for their daughter with ADHD. Their trip was wonderful because of it, and hearing that gave me hope.

I prepared carefully for my own DAS interview. I even used ChatGPT to script what I wanted to say so I could communicate clearly. But after reading online that Disney was limiting DAS mostly to autistic guests, I was nervous—yet still hopeful that my sensory and neurological challenges would qualify.

Unfortunately, I was denied DAS. And that was that!

The cast member tried to give me suggestions that might help - use the “leave the queue” option, find quiet places, and go to disability services at the front of the park if I experience problems. Unfortunately, he meant to make me comfortable but I became anxious and told him so.

Starting the Day With Anxiety

Our trip was for one week at the beginning of November. We had tickets for SeaWorld and two days at Disney. We planned to go to Magic Kingdom and Hollywood Studios.

Just before our trip I learned about the effectiveness of the loop earplugs. I had used acqustic earplugs that have helped a bit but cause me problems when I try to talk. The loop allow me to talk and deaden the noise. Now I was armed with a good accommodation for the noise at the parks.

We started the week on SeaWorld on Monday. We had a terrific time. The loop earplugs worked tremendously with the extremely loud music. We went to all the shows we wanted to see.

We visited Magic Kingdom on Tuesday. Kiera had a list of rides and character experiences she wanted us to experience and I wanted to go to Its a Small World.

Our first Disney ride was Haunted Mansion. My husband and I used the “leave queue and return” option. Thank goodness he was with me, because returning to my family afterward was chaotic and overwhelming:

• The Lightning Lane was packed.

• Cast members kept telling us to “keep moving.”

• The noise and crowd disoriented me.

• My daughter’s family had to move slowly and wait for us, which frustrated my 5-year-old granddaughter.

• The Lightning Lane and regular line merged, creating even more confusion.

  
  

By the time I reached the moving conveyor belt and had to step into the doom buggy, I was shaken and overstimulated. My husband helped me in, and once the ride started, I could finally relax and enjoy being with my daughter and granddaughter. But getting there had taken everything out of me.

Trying to Advocate for Myself — and Giving Up

After that awful experience at the Haunted Mansion,I tried contacting disability services again while the rest of the family went on a ride. But because I was already overstimulated, I clicked the wrong chat—something that happens when I’m disoriented. When I finally reached the right team, they told me I needed to be at Guest Services in person. Before I could attempt that, my family returned from their ride, and I gave up.

A Ride I Lost: It’s a Small World

I was really hoping to share It’s a Small World with my granddaughter—it’s a ride I’ve always loved. But when we saw the long line, my husband approached a cast member for assistance and was ignored.

At that moment, I stepped out of line and let my family ride without me.

Kiera loved it. But I wasn’t there to witness it, and that still hurts.

Moments of Magic — Thanks to Individual Cast Members

Later in the day, we went to Meet Ariel at her Grotto and Enchanted Tales with Belle. And here, things worked the way an accessible system should work:

• For Ariel, my daughter explained my difficulties, and a cast member guided us into a shorter outdoor queue and ushered us in with a small group.

• For Belle, a cast member told my husband and me where to wait. She came back to tell us to wait for our party to join. When it was almost their turn to get to the experience another cast member joined us.

These small acts made the experience wonderful and inclusive. But they shouldn’t depend on random luck—one compassionate cast member versus another who is rushed, unsure, or untrained.

Why I’m Sharing This

As a stroke survivor with invisible disabilities, being denied DAS didn’t just affect me—it impacted my entire family. The unpredictability of accommodations made the day stressful, exhausting, and disappointing.

I’m sharing this because:

• Invisible disabilities are real.

• Sensory and communication challenges deserve accommodation.

• Accessibility should not be hit-or-miss.

• Families should not be separated because of disability.

I hope Disney expands their understanding of neurological and sensory disabilities, improves cast member training, and provides a consistent alternative for guests like me.

A Reflective Ending: The Heart of Inclusion

Inclusion isn’t complicated—it’s compassion in action.

It’s allowing every guest, regardless of disability, to experience joy alongside their family. It’s seeing the person behind the diagnosis. It’s recognizing invisible struggles and offering support without making someone fight for it.

Magic shouldn’t depend on luck. It shouldn’t depend on which cast member you meet. And it shouldn’t disappear for people with disabilities—especially at a place built on imagination and possibility.

I hope that by sharing my experience, I can help create a future where families like mine can enjoy the magic together.