In today’s landscape, voices that explore the raw and real experiences of illness and disability are reshaping how we think about the everyday struggles many face. One such voice belongs to Julie Stevens, a poet whose work is rooted in her lived experience with Multiple Sclerosis (MS). When I spoke with her, it was clear that her writing is more than just a creative outlet—it’s a mission of honesty, resilience, and connection.
“I write exactly how it is. No smoothing the edges or making things prettier than reality,” she tells me with striking clarity. Living with MS means that everyday activities can feel like monumental challenges, and Stevens doesn’t shy away from sharing that truth in her poetry. Her words come from a place of fierce honesty, offering readers an unfiltered glimpse into her life. “I don’t believe in painting a picture that’s not true,” she says, a guiding principle that has made her work resonate with readers, disabled and non-disabled alike.
Insomnia
First published on Ink Sweat & Tears, 2021 (Pick of the Month, October 2021), then in Step into the Dark (The Hedgehog Poetry Press, 2023)
Night shakes hurt the most.
Firm hands strangle the life
out of sedate songs.
You’re awake
breathing the curse of noise,
as dark sniggers.
The hours clang,
trees thump the ground,
damp air sharpens knives.
Prickly reminders have lodged in bones,
ill words wrestle sore blood.
A bead of mourning rolls under skin.
You lie on this rack,
hear every rotten dream;
words swoop like snatching gulls.
Julie’s work doesn’t ask for sympathy—it demands understanding. In poems that confront the physical and emotional toll of MS, she doesn’t aim to romanticise illness or create a sanitised version of her reality. Instead, she brings the reader into her world with courage and clarity. “I really hope my readers can relate to my poems, whether they are disabled or not,” she explains. Her hope is for readers to walk away with a greater understanding of disability, but also with a sense of shared humanity.
What strikes me most about Julie is her desire to connect with everyone, regardless of their physical state. “I write for everyone who’s ever felt that life is a bit hard, or that everyday tasks can be impossible sometimes,” she says. There’s a universal thread running through her poems, a call to empathy that encourages readers to look beyond their own experiences and consider the world through someone else’s eyes. “I hope my poems will help bring an understanding of how the everyday can be so challenging.”
Broken
My body is that one path to reach the high cliff.
It is always 46 steps to climb.
It is a kettle that can’t be filled,
a telephone numbered with zeros.
It is a piece of paper with fading letters,
a blunt knife, that can’t scratch a word.
It is a burnt-out match, a torch with no light,
a frayed piece of cloth, that falls like snow.
My body is last night’s scornful fight,
a dull smile, too heavy to raise.
It is smothered tears that hide the truth.
My heart wants to close.
Julie’s journey as a poet began only a few years ago, but in that short time, she’s already accomplished more than many writers achieve in a lifetime. Her first publication, Quicksand (Dreich, 2020), won second place in the Dreich Chapbook competition—a remarkable achievement for someone who had only been writing for just over a year. “That was huge for me,” she recalls, the excitement still fresh in her voice. Quicksand dives into themes of resilience, frustration, and hope, offering readers a visceral understanding of life with MS.
Following on from that success, her next collection, Balancing Act (The Hedgehog Poetry Press, 2021), earned her joint winner status in the Stickleback competition. “Another great feeling!” she says with a smile. This collection further explored the fine balance between fragility and strength in the face of illness, showing just how multifaceted disability can be.
Julie’s third chapbook, Step into the Dark (The Hedgehog Poetry Press, 2023), was Highly Commended, marking yet another milestone in her career. Looking forward, she’s excited about her forthcoming collection, Journey Through the Fire (The Hedgehog Poetry Press, 2024), which promises to be her most ambitious project yet. “This one feels different,” she says thoughtfully. “It’s about resilience, of course, but it’s also about pushing through, finding new ways to live with what I’ve got.”
One Cruel Day
The house is alive.
Every room scans
where you hide.
Breathe slowly,
so they won’t hear.
The doors, the windows,
have you closed them?
Count them: 3 doors, 11 windows.
Check. Check again.
They’ll be angry if it’s cold.
Line pots, glasses, cups.
Nothing out of place.
They must know where they are.
Behind the kettle, in a drawer,
a high cupboard.
A chopping knife on a board
will trigger the attack.
Don’t leave anything out −
it will be found.
Check the side of the bed,
are they there?
Use a drawer to hide underwear,
never on the floor.
Look behind, listen, know every shadow.
They will haul you down, injure, kill.
Stay on the sofa
with the ordered cushions,
it’s safe there. Now watch.
What’s clear from every poem Julie writes is that she’s not asking for sympathy—she’s offering strength. She’s acutely aware of the everyday barriers that disabled people face, and she hopes her poetry will inspire others to think about how they can make life more accessible. “I want people to see how tough it can be, but I also want them to feel inspired. To think about how they can help make life a little easier, for me or for anyone who’s dealing with these kinds of challenges.”
This, for Julie, is the crux of her work: fostering understanding and prompting change. Whether it’s physical adjustments like smoother paths and greater accessibility, or simply increasing awareness of the unseen difficulties faced by people with disabilities, she hopes her poetry will act as a catalyst. “I hope my poems show my strength and determination to succeed,” she says with quiet conviction.
At the heart of Julie’s writing is a desire to connect with people. Her poems speak directly to the reader, inviting them into her world without ever asking them to feel sorry for her. “I want my readers to feel stronger when they finish my poems,” she says. “It’s not just about raising awareness of MS—though that’s important, too—it’s about showing that, no matter what you’re dealing with, you can find the strength to keep going.”
Julie’s poetry is not just for those living with disabilities, but for anyone who has ever felt overwhelmed by life’s challenges. There is a universality in her words that resonates deeply, drawing readers in and leaving them with a sense of shared experience. “At the end of the day, I hope people just enjoy the poems,” she says with a smile. “If they take away a bit of understanding or feel a bit stronger after reading them, then I’ve done my job.”
In speaking with Julie Stevens, one thing becomes abundantly clear: her poetry is a testament to the human spirit’s capacity for resilience. Through her unflinching honesty and powerful words, she offers readers a chance to see the world through her eyes, and in doing so, she challenges us all to be more empathetic, more understanding, and more determined in our own lives.
As Julie prepares for the release of Journey Through the Fire, it’s clear that her voice will continue to inspire and resonate with readers. In a world that often tries to sanitise or overlook the difficulties of living with a disability, Julie Stevens is a poet who will not be silenced—her words speak loudly, clearly, and most importantly, truthfully.
Wearing the Wrong Body
Body, you are not the one I found.
The one that gave my parents the world
nestled in the warmth of their hands.
Body, you do not hold me up,
let me walk for miles through snowfall,
over mountains and still find more thrills.
You give me hail at weekends
lightning to shatter time,
gales to blast holes in my plans.
Body, you’re not listening.
I didn’t bring you here,
put two legs inside your frame.
There are leaks in my days
plants and trees won’t climb
and the sky keeps ramming my head.
Body, these legs swagger backwards
my fingers only grip air,
eyes see no further than my tongue.
You are not the one that skates past.
You are not the one that shirks pain.
You are not the one to put it right.
Body, you are not the one I found.
Let’s drop the Hallmark card fantasies. Nature isn’t serene. It’s not here to cradle you while you write love letters to daffodils.
Beautiful Little Fools will be a stunning hardcover anthology celebrating and interrogating the glamour, obsession, and decadence of the Gilded Age, inspired
Are you a writer with a winter-themed story waiting to shine? The Broken Spine is seeking submissions for its 2025 Festive Short
The Broken Spine is a poetry and arts collective proudly published on the coastal edge of North-West England. Founded in 2019 by Alan Parry and Paul Robert Mullen – two school friends reunited after twenty years through a mutual love of poetry.
