What I Wish I Knew About Accessibility Before Designing for It

One year ago, I barely knew anything about accessible design beyond the basics: don’t use small fonts, ensure good contrast, and so on. You know, the standard advice. Then, I was thrown into a project where the app was targeted at visually impaired (VI) users, and suddenly, I was scrambling to learn everything I could.

I was a complete noob. But over the course of a year, researching and designing for accessibility became one of the most eye-opening experiences of my research career. It changed how I see the world - literally. Here are some of my biggest takeaways from accessibility testing Polaraud, 55 Minutes’ audio journaling app. I hope they help fellow designers and researchers working toward inclusive design.

1. Accessibility isn’t an add-on — it needs to be baked in from the start

At first, I thought we could wait until the final stages of the design process to make the app accessible. We’d design the interface, test it with sighted users, then add screen reader instructions and see if they provided VI users with sufficient instruction on how to navigate the app. Simple, right?

Not quite. I quickly learned that some design elements are far harder to navigate with screen readers than others. If I could turn back time, I would have asked the design team to avoid such design elements from the start.

For example, tab navigation is extremely frustrating for VI users — they often have to swipe all the way back to the top just to find them again. Many navigate this purely by memorising tab locations rather than through intuitive interaction. Sighted users, on the other hand, can visually spot and click tabs instantly.

An example of navigating tabs with a screen reader: exiting the ‘Shared by my circles’ tab requires scrolling through all the posts again to return to the tab header, so that the ‘My journal’ tab can be selected.

This experience showed me that accessibility isn’t something you can just "add on" at the end - it needs to be part of the design process from the very beginning.

💡Tip: Build accessibility in from day one. Involve VI users early and often to identify challenges before they become costly to fix.

2. VI users rely greatly on spatial memory to navigate - so consistency is crucial

What I didn’t realise until I started observing VI users is how heavily they rely on spatial memory to navigate interfaces. They memorise the locations of buttons, menus, and other patterns, allowing them to move quickly without having to listen to every element being read aloud by a screen reader.

This means that when we update an app’s UI, even small changes can be disorienting. Moving a button, even if it improves usability for sighted users, can cause frustration for VI users who have memorised its location.

As a sighted user, I never thought much about app updates or A/B tests. If we found a better way to design the app, why not make the change? Or implement A/B tests to decide on the best design — it just made sense. But for VI users, these seemingly straightforward actions can be a significant source of frustration.

This realisation has made me rethink how I approach design updates. Any change — no matter how small — should be carefully considered to avoid disrupting usability.

💡Tip: Before redesigning an interface, consider how it might impact VI users. If updates are necessary, provide clear guidance on what’s changed and how to navigate the new layout.

3. How do we convey “Feels” and "Vibes" without visuals?

When I first started on making the app accessible, I focused a lot on functionality. My main goal was to find out if VI users could understand the screen reader instructions, so that they can complete what they needed to on the app. But I soon realised I was missing something: delight.

When we tested Polaraud, which features playful blob designs, sighted users would often exclaim, "So cute!" when they saw the blobs. But VI users had no idea the blobs even existed. All they heard was plain text, stripped of all personality.

This left me thinking: How else might we convey feels and vibes — an integral part of the user experience — without visuals?

For now, we’ve introduced background music and sound effects at appropriate, non-distracting moments to help create the intended vibe. But I know we’re just scratching the surface. Could richer Alt Text, AI-generated voice inflections, or even haptic feedback help? I don’t have all the answers yet, but I hope this is something designers keep exploring.

💡Tip: Accessibility isn’t just about function — it’s about emotional connection, too. There’s so much room to innovate in how we bring personality into accessible design.

4. Visual impairment is a spectrum — there’s no one-size-fits-all solution

One of my biggest takeaways is that visual impairment exists on a spectrum (and the same would apply to other disabilities). Before working with actual VI users, I imagined I would be making products work for people who are completely blind.

During my research, I met individuals who were totally blind, as well as those with low vision caused by conditions like long-sightedness or cataracts. Each group interacts with interfaces differently, and a solution that works well for one might not work at all for another.

For example:

Seniors with age-related vision loss may still be able to see the screen but struggle with small text. Features like adjustable font sizes and high-contrast mode would greatly improve usability for them.

Individuals who are completely blind will rely entirely on screen readers, meaning the focus should be on well-structured layouts and clear screen reader instructions.

Clearly, the needs of these two groups are vastly different, and a single "VI-friendly" design isn’t enough. Understanding this diversity is crucial for creating effective, inclusive solutions.

💡Tip: Accessibility isn’t one-size-fits-all. Take the time to understand the diverse needs within the VI community, and tailor your solutions accordingly.

Conclusion

This journey has been humbling, challenging, and incredibly rewarding. I hope my reflections inspire other designers to think beyond checklists and start seeing accessibility as an opportunity for innovation, creativity, and genuine human connection.