You Are Allowed to Ask
A practical guide (plus the free checklist that started it all) to advocating before you walk through the door
There is a moment every caregiver knows.
You get an invitation to a birthday party, a holiday dinner, or a family gathering, and before you even feel happy about it, your brain is already running the checklist. How many steps are at the entrance? What is the width of the doorway? Where is the bathroom? Can my child get to it? Will they have any privacy once they do?
By the time you have worked through all of it, you are exhausted, and you have not even RSVP’d yet.
Nobody warned me that some of the hardest advocacy I would ever do would be with the people who already love my son. It was not the insurance companies or the school administrators that caught me off guard. It was the family members, the friends, and the people who have been in our lives for years.
Nobody warned me that it would also never be finished. Advocacy is not a phase you push through and come out the other side of. It is just part of the life now, attached to every invitation and every gathering and every new situation we walk into.
I am a pretty outspoken woman. I have always been comfortable saying hard things. Being outspoken, though, does not make any of this easy. Asking these questions has never once felt comfortable, no matter how many times I have done it. I do it anyway, because TJ deserves to show up fully everywhere we go.
Start with the entrance
Most homes have at least one step at the front door. That one step is a wall for a lot of our kids. So ask. It is okay to say, “Hey, can you measure the height of that step for me?”
We actually went ahead and purchased a portable ramp so we are always ready. The one we use is a 5-foot folding ramp with an antislip surface that works on steps anywhere from 5 to 10 inches high. There are multiple sizes to choose from, but we felt the 5’ would work most places. [Click here to see the ramp we use.] We also purchased a threshold ramp for smaller rises, and they come in multiple sizes depending on what you need. [Click here to see the threshold ramp we purchased.]
While you are at it, ask about parking. Is there a spot close to the entrance? Is there a curb between the parking area and the door? Is there gravel? These are small things that most people never think about. They matter a lot when you are transferring a wheelchair or managing mobility equipment.
Then the doorways and hallways
A standard interior doorway is about 32 inches wide. A wheelchair needs at least 32 inches to get through, and 36 is more comfortable. You can ask for measurements. This is not a strange request. A quick text that says “Hey, can you measure your front doorway for me? Just want to make sure we can get through easily” is a completely normal thing to send.
Also ask about the path from the entrance to where everyone will be. Thick carpet, uneven flooring, rugs, and tight corners between furniture all make navigation hard. You are not asking anyone to renovate their home. You are gathering information so you can plan, and there is nothing unreasonable about that.
The bathroom conversation
This one feels awkward. Ask anyway.
You do not need to go into detail. A simple “Which bathroom would be easiest for us to use, and is there enough space to maneuver?” is enough. You are looking for a room with enough floor space to bring in a wheelchair or transfer your person safely. You are looking for privacy, a door that closes, and a space that is not in the middle of everything.
Grab bars are not a realistic expectation in most homes, and that is not the ask. You just need enough room and enough privacy for your person to have some dignity. That is the baseline, and it is a fair one.
Flooring and pathways matter more than people think
Thick carpet is hard to push a wheelchair through. Gravel, uneven pavers, and wood chip paths are difficult and sometimes dangerous. Area rugs bunch up and catch wheels. These are not things most hosts think about because they have never had to.
You can ask. “Is the path to the backyard paved or grassy?” and “Are there rugs on the floors inside?” are questions that take seconds to ask and can save you a lot of difficulty on the day itself.
The dignity question nobody talks about
This one matters most and gets asked the least: will your person be able to actually participate, or will they spend the whole time watching from the sidelines?
Will they have to enter through a back door while everyone else uses the front? Will they be stuck in one corner of the room because there is nowhere else they can get to? Will they feel included, or will the setup make them feel like an afterthought?
You get to factor all of this in. Full participation and full dignity are not too much to ask for. They never were.
I made you a shortcut
I put all of this into a free checklist, because on the day of the invite, your brain is already juggling snacks, outfits, and whether you remembered the wheelchair ramp for the tenth time. You shouldn’t have to also remember every question from memory.
Print it, download it, screenshot it, keep it in your Notes app, or whatever gets it in front of you before the next RSVP does.
You are allowed to say no
After you have asked all the questions and gotten all the answers, you are allowed to decide it is not going to work. No guilt. No lengthy explanation. No apology for your person’s needs.
If the entrance is not accessible and nobody can make it work, that is a no. If the bathroom situation does not allow for privacy or safety, that is a no. If your person is going to spend the whole time uncomfortable or excluded, that is a no.
“We won’t be able to make it work this time, but thank you so much for the invite” is a complete sentence. You do not owe anyone more than that.
The people who love you will find a way to make it work next time, or they will bring the party to you. The ones who make you feel guilty for asking are also showing you something. Pay attention to it.
One last thing
Asking these questions is not making things hard. It is not being a burden. It is making sure your person gets to show up fully, safely, comfortably, and with their dignity intact, the same way everyone else shows up without thinking about it twice.
You have been doing the thinking for both of you for a long time. A few questions before an RSVP is the least of it.
Ask anyway. Every time.




We are currently staying with relatives who we've stayed with many times before, and they are wonderful and love us, but they are in a new house and the bedrooms they had allocated us just would not work. We need to be next door to Olivia, and they had put us on different floors. It was all sorted quickly but made me realise that people who are not with us all the time can forget how high her needs are.
Thank you for highlighting the invisible labour - the practical, emotional and size of it, Sara.
Caring for my Dad, we didn't get invitations to visit in other people's homes, but when we met others for lunch we went to places we knew were wheelchair-friendly, and the facilities were ok (not many were 'great', but these were at least ok!). Different circumstances, but I resonate with everything you've shared - especially your last paragraphs.