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A career shaped by advocacy beyond her practice, and the realities of living with an invisible disability – Dr Natasha Shotunde, Black Barristers’ Network Co-Founder and its Chair for seven years, reflects on a decade at the Bar
2025 marked 12 years since my call to the Bar and a decade in practice. I thought my ten-year anniversary would be one of elation. Instead, it was a moment of grief.
I grieved many things: the previous two years I had survived; the certainty I once had about my career; and, most unexpectedly, the loss of a former version of myself. For many of us, our professional identity is not simply what we do: it is who we are. When that identity fractures, the loss feels profound.
Throughout my life, I have often been described as ‘strong’. For women, particularly Black women, strength is frequently expected rather than supported. Strength without support has a cost, and sometimes that cost is paid by the body.
My first neurological symptoms appeared in 2014, shortly before pupillage. This followed Bar school, where the spoken and unspoken culture made someone like me feel like an outsider. It was also towards the end of my time as a county court advocate, where I experienced shouting from judges and the frustrations of difficult opponents and litigants.
I developed pins and needles in my legs, initially dismissed by my GP as a reaction to exercise. By the time I started my first six, the sensation had worsened to the point where I could not walk for more than a minute or two without my legs going completely numb.
When I nervously told my then pupil supervisor, he responded with care and arranged taxis to support my mobility.
Years later, while completing a master’s degree alongside full-time practice, I experienced my second flare: severe vertigo followed by random periods of dizziness. These were dismissed as labyrinthitis. They coincided with academic deadlines and leadership responsibilities. I continued and obtained a distinction in my LLM.
In 2024, after an already punishing period of professional and personal stress, pins and needles returned – this time in my hands. Fatigue and cognitive fog came in waves. The pain made using my hands difficult. I continued to meet my professional obligations, assuming this was stress, a trapped nerve or the inevitable toll of being strong.
On 19 March 2024, during a hearing, I received a call from my endocrinologist. A pituitary MRI revealed a prolactinoma, an eight-millimetre pituitary tumour. Then she added: ‘We can see something else.’
For six months, I lived with the clinical question: cancer, infection or autoimmune disease.
I continued working, pulling all-nighters to meet deadlines and travelling abroad for other people’s milestones. At the same time, I underwent numerous blood tests, brain and spine MRIs, a PET CT scan and a lumbar puncture. I tried to remain the high-functioning, hyper-independent barrister I had always been, ignoring what was happening to my brain and spinal cord.
In September 2024, I was diagnosed with relapsing-remitting multiple sclerosis.
Multiple sclerosis is a chronic autoimmune condition in which the immune system mistakenly attacks the myelin sheath, the protective fatty layer surrounding nerve fibres in the brain and spinal cord. This disrupts communication between the brain and the rest of the body.
Relapsing-remitting MS involves periods of relapse followed by partial or full remission. Symptoms vary, but commonly include issues with balance and mobility, numbness and tingling, fatigue, cognitive fog and vision problems. It is a progressive condition with no cure, and many symptoms are non-visible.
My disability provided me with the experience of a characteristic that was non-visible, disclosure of which risked discrimination. I was acutely aware that disclosure could invite doubt, provoke suspicion and risk people questioning my integrity rather than supporting my needs.
After my diagnosis, I did not know who to tell, what to disclose, where to seek support or what adjustments I was entitled to. I searched for guidance at the Bar and found little. The absence of structure left me lost at sea and made an already destabilising moment harder.
My diagnosis forced me to confront a difficult truth: I had spent years fighting for others while my body was fighting itself.
My career has been shaped by advocacy beyond my practice. From early on, I felt frustration at the barriers faced by Black barristers, and particularly Black women. That frustration never dissipated. Instead, I channelled it into action.
I have fought for social mobility and against gender and race discrimination within and outside the profession. From 2017, I sat on the Young Barristers’ Committee. In 2018, I was a Social Mobility Advocate for the Bar Council. From 2019 to 2025, I served as an elected member of the Bar Council, sitting on its Equality, Diversity and Social Mobility Committee and Race Working Group, and the Family Law Bar Association. From 2021, I have sat on Lincoln’s Inn’s Equality, Diversity and Inclusion Committee.
Alongside this, I served on numerous boards and panels outside the profession, including chairing an organisation and sitting on the JUSTICE working party on Improving Access to Justice for Separating Families, with my main focus on racial equality and eradicating violence against women and girls.
One of my proudest achievements was co-founding and chairing the Black Barristers’ Network. Despite committee members coming and going, including our vice chair leaving some years ago, I remained committed from 2019 until 2026, with overall responsibility falling on me.
My work was recognised through awards from Chambers & Partners, the Diversity Legal Awards and Forty Under 40, as well as an honorary doctorate in 2022. I was grateful for the recognition, but it did not change the underlying reality that progress for Black barristers, and particularly Black women, remained slow, especially in terms of career progression.
I believed that sustained engagement, proximity to decision-makers and repeated evidence of inequality would lead to change. Ten years on, progress remains frustratingly slow. The appointment of Barbara Mills KC as Chair of the Bar for 2025 was a moment of progress and deserves recognition. Representation at the top, however, does not automatically translate into change on the ground, where access to work, advancement and influence continues to lag behind rhetoric.
Disclosing my non-visible disability in this article has not been easy. I write so that other barristers who acquire visible or non-visible disabilities while practising know they are not alone. I also write as an example of what happens when you fight too hard for others without caring for yourself.
Illness, burnout and institutional battles have forced me to pause. That pause has made me question not whether I am strong, but what strength truly means. Real strength is not endlessly carrying the battles of others. It is knowing when to fight your own.
Since that pause, I have committed to building a life grounded in my mental and physical health. I have set boundaries with friends, family and work. I have explored creative pursuits, including candle and jewellery making and content creation. I am rediscovering myself and exploring possibilities within and beyond the Bar. If you would like to follow my journey of healing, self-discovery and growth, you can find me on YouTube at @NatashaGShotunde.
I am passing the baton, making space for three formidable Black women to lead the Black Barristers’ Network. As this year’s International Women’s Day theme is ‘Give to Gain’, I ask that you support the new co-chairs with generosity, so that they do not pay the cost of strength that I did.
For those with visible or non-visible disabilities at the Bar seeking community, I am here and ready to serve.

In 2022, Natasha received an honorary doctorate in law from Anglia Ruskin University in recognition of her work to improve diversity in the legal profession.

Natasha co-founded the Black Barristers’ Network (BBN) in 2019 to provide support and increase the visibility of Black Barristers within and outside of the profession. Find out more at blackbarristersnetwork.org.uk
Sources of support
If you’ve been affected by any of the themes discussed in this article, sources of support include:
Wellbeing at the Bar: Supporting self-employed barristers, pupils and staff, please visit www.wellbeingatthebar.org.uk/assistance-programme or call 0800 169 2040
LawCare: The mental health charity for the legal sector. Free confidential helpline (Mon-Fri 9am-5pm) 0800 279 6888 or visit lawcare.org.uk
Befrienders Worldwide: An international network of over 90 help centres spanning the globe – please visit befrienders.org
2025 marked 12 years since my call to the Bar and a decade in practice. I thought my ten-year anniversary would be one of elation. Instead, it was a moment of grief.
I grieved many things: the previous two years I had survived; the certainty I once had about my career; and, most unexpectedly, the loss of a former version of myself. For many of us, our professional identity is not simply what we do: it is who we are. When that identity fractures, the loss feels profound.
Throughout my life, I have often been described as ‘strong’. For women, particularly Black women, strength is frequently expected rather than supported. Strength without support has a cost, and sometimes that cost is paid by the body.
My first neurological symptoms appeared in 2014, shortly before pupillage. This followed Bar school, where the spoken and unspoken culture made someone like me feel like an outsider. It was also towards the end of my time as a county court advocate, where I experienced shouting from judges and the frustrations of difficult opponents and litigants.
I developed pins and needles in my legs, initially dismissed by my GP as a reaction to exercise. By the time I started my first six, the sensation had worsened to the point where I could not walk for more than a minute or two without my legs going completely numb.
When I nervously told my then pupil supervisor, he responded with care and arranged taxis to support my mobility.
Years later, while completing a master’s degree alongside full-time practice, I experienced my second flare: severe vertigo followed by random periods of dizziness. These were dismissed as labyrinthitis. They coincided with academic deadlines and leadership responsibilities. I continued and obtained a distinction in my LLM.
In 2024, after an already punishing period of professional and personal stress, pins and needles returned – this time in my hands. Fatigue and cognitive fog came in waves. The pain made using my hands difficult. I continued to meet my professional obligations, assuming this was stress, a trapped nerve or the inevitable toll of being strong.
On 19 March 2024, during a hearing, I received a call from my endocrinologist. A pituitary MRI revealed a prolactinoma, an eight-millimetre pituitary tumour. Then she added: ‘We can see something else.’
For six months, I lived with the clinical question: cancer, infection or autoimmune disease.
I continued working, pulling all-nighters to meet deadlines and travelling abroad for other people’s milestones. At the same time, I underwent numerous blood tests, brain and spine MRIs, a PET CT scan and a lumbar puncture. I tried to remain the high-functioning, hyper-independent barrister I had always been, ignoring what was happening to my brain and spinal cord.
In September 2024, I was diagnosed with relapsing-remitting multiple sclerosis.
Multiple sclerosis is a chronic autoimmune condition in which the immune system mistakenly attacks the myelin sheath, the protective fatty layer surrounding nerve fibres in the brain and spinal cord. This disrupts communication between the brain and the rest of the body.
Relapsing-remitting MS involves periods of relapse followed by partial or full remission. Symptoms vary, but commonly include issues with balance and mobility, numbness and tingling, fatigue, cognitive fog and vision problems. It is a progressive condition with no cure, and many symptoms are non-visible.
My disability provided me with the experience of a characteristic that was non-visible, disclosure of which risked discrimination. I was acutely aware that disclosure could invite doubt, provoke suspicion and risk people questioning my integrity rather than supporting my needs.
After my diagnosis, I did not know who to tell, what to disclose, where to seek support or what adjustments I was entitled to. I searched for guidance at the Bar and found little. The absence of structure left me lost at sea and made an already destabilising moment harder.
My diagnosis forced me to confront a difficult truth: I had spent years fighting for others while my body was fighting itself.
My career has been shaped by advocacy beyond my practice. From early on, I felt frustration at the barriers faced by Black barristers, and particularly Black women. That frustration never dissipated. Instead, I channelled it into action.
I have fought for social mobility and against gender and race discrimination within and outside the profession. From 2017, I sat on the Young Barristers’ Committee. In 2018, I was a Social Mobility Advocate for the Bar Council. From 2019 to 2025, I served as an elected member of the Bar Council, sitting on its Equality, Diversity and Social Mobility Committee and Race Working Group, and the Family Law Bar Association. From 2021, I have sat on Lincoln’s Inn’s Equality, Diversity and Inclusion Committee.
Alongside this, I served on numerous boards and panels outside the profession, including chairing an organisation and sitting on the JUSTICE working party on Improving Access to Justice for Separating Families, with my main focus on racial equality and eradicating violence against women and girls.
One of my proudest achievements was co-founding and chairing the Black Barristers’ Network. Despite committee members coming and going, including our vice chair leaving some years ago, I remained committed from 2019 until 2026, with overall responsibility falling on me.
My work was recognised through awards from Chambers & Partners, the Diversity Legal Awards and Forty Under 40, as well as an honorary doctorate in 2022. I was grateful for the recognition, but it did not change the underlying reality that progress for Black barristers, and particularly Black women, remained slow, especially in terms of career progression.
I believed that sustained engagement, proximity to decision-makers and repeated evidence of inequality would lead to change. Ten years on, progress remains frustratingly slow. The appointment of Barbara Mills KC as Chair of the Bar for 2025 was a moment of progress and deserves recognition. Representation at the top, however, does not automatically translate into change on the ground, where access to work, advancement and influence continues to lag behind rhetoric.
Disclosing my non-visible disability in this article has not been easy. I write so that other barristers who acquire visible or non-visible disabilities while practising know they are not alone. I also write as an example of what happens when you fight too hard for others without caring for yourself.
Illness, burnout and institutional battles have forced me to pause. That pause has made me question not whether I am strong, but what strength truly means. Real strength is not endlessly carrying the battles of others. It is knowing when to fight your own.
Since that pause, I have committed to building a life grounded in my mental and physical health. I have set boundaries with friends, family and work. I have explored creative pursuits, including candle and jewellery making and content creation. I am rediscovering myself and exploring possibilities within and beyond the Bar. If you would like to follow my journey of healing, self-discovery and growth, you can find me on YouTube at @NatashaGShotunde.
I am passing the baton, making space for three formidable Black women to lead the Black Barristers’ Network. As this year’s International Women’s Day theme is ‘Give to Gain’, I ask that you support the new co-chairs with generosity, so that they do not pay the cost of strength that I did.
For those with visible or non-visible disabilities at the Bar seeking community, I am here and ready to serve.

In 2022, Natasha received an honorary doctorate in law from Anglia Ruskin University in recognition of her work to improve diversity in the legal profession.

Natasha co-founded the Black Barristers’ Network (BBN) in 2019 to provide support and increase the visibility of Black Barristers within and outside of the profession. Find out more at blackbarristersnetwork.org.uk
Sources of support
If you’ve been affected by any of the themes discussed in this article, sources of support include:
Wellbeing at the Bar: Supporting self-employed barristers, pupils and staff, please visit www.wellbeingatthebar.org.uk/assistance-programme or call 0800 169 2040
LawCare: The mental health charity for the legal sector. Free confidential helpline (Mon-Fri 9am-5pm) 0800 279 6888 or visit lawcare.org.uk
Befrienders Worldwide: An international network of over 90 help centres spanning the globe – please visit befrienders.org
A career shaped by advocacy beyond her practice, and the realities of living with an invisible disability – Dr Natasha Shotunde, Black Barristers’ Network Co-Founder and its Chair for seven years, reflects on a decade at the Bar
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