Because sometimes what “works” on paper still hurts in practice.
When we first moved to Tennessee, we were excited. New space, big yard, fresh start. The kids and dogs ran straight out to the backyard... and that’s when we met it: the chestnut tree.
If you’ve never seen one up close, chestnut trees drop these spiky pods that are no joke. You can’t touch them with bare hands. They hurt THAT much. The dogs wouldn’t walk. The kids couldn’t climb the one tree they were drawn to. (And yes, technically they could wear shoes, but when you’re nine, where’s the fun in that?)
Now, here’s the thing: those painful pods? They actually hold something valuable inside. Chestnuts are edible. There’s nourishment in there, but you have to fight through the spikes to get to it.
And most people just... won’t.
It’s the same with websites. You might have great content, a meaningful mission, powerful testimonials. But if the experience of your site is prickly, confusing, or painful to navigate your people won’t stick around to find the good stuff.
Fast forward three and a half years, and the dogs can now walk on the pods (somehow), and they even try to eat them. But us? We gave in and bought a chestnut harvester that attaches to the mower because just being “technically usable” isn’t enough.
You’ve probably seen the checklist:
And yet, the site still feels chaotic, confusing, or downright overwhelming.
For a lot of neurodivergent users (and honestly, for most people), accessibility isn’t just about following WCAG rules. It’s about how your site feels to use. Is it clear? Is it calm? Is it safe? Does it guide them or drown them?
If your website technically “works,” but your audience still avoids it, you’re basically asking them to walk barefoot across chestnut pods.
For the clients I serve, therapists, coaches, affirming professionals, most of your audience is already carrying a heavy load. They don’t need a site that makes them work harder. They need:
Accessibility means asking less of your user, not more.
When a site says it’s inclusive, but the experience is overwhelming, your visitors feel that disconnect and it chips away at credibility.
If you’re building trust with people who are used to being misunderstood or overstimulated, you can’t afford to rely on surface-level fixes. You need real usability. Real clarity. Real thoughtfulness.
Because accessibility isn’t just about who can use your site. It’s about how they feel once they’re there.
If your site feels like walking barefoot on chestnut pods (technically possible, but unnecessarily painful) it’s time to rethink what accessibility really means.
You might have amazing content buried in there. A strong message. A deep, meaningful service. But if your website makes people work to get to it especially the people who are already overwhelmed or overstimulated they won’t stick around long enough to find it.
Accessibility isn’t just about letting people in. It’s about clearing the path.
Your clients deserve better. And so do you.
