Nicolas Hamilton was told early in life that certain paths would never be open to him. Born two months premature, he spent the first six weeks of his life in intensive care.

By the time he was 18 months old, doctors delivered another verdict: spastic diplegia, a form of cerebral palsy that would affect balance, coordination, and muscle control in his lower body. Some went further, suggesting he might never walk independently, let alone run.

At 32, Hamilton has already rewritten those predictions.

Known publicly as the half-brother of seven-time Formula One world champion Lewis Hamilton, Nicolas has spent years working to ensure his identity extends beyond that association. He made motorsport history as the first disabled driver to compete in the British Touring Car Championship — a milestone that once seemed impossible, even to him.

Those feelings, he says, were not fleeting. They followed him through adolescence and into adulthood, fueled by comparison, frustration, and a quiet sense of isolation. Watching peers progress without physical limitation was a constant reminder of what he felt had been taken from him before he even had a choice.

Yet the physical challenges were only part of the battle. In his forthcoming memoir, Now That I Have Your Attention, Hamilton opens up about a darker chapter — a six-month spiral into gambling that drained thousands from his savings. The binge left him emotionally depleted, deeply depressed, and at times questioning whether life was worth continuing.

At one point, the consequences became unavoidable. Facing a large tax bill, Hamilton was forced to sell one of his most treasured possessions: a Mercedes C63 gifted to him by Lewis. The loss symbolized more than money. “It felt like another failure,” he reflects. “Another moment where I’d let myself down.”

What followed was not a sudden turnaround, but a slow, uncomfortable rebuilding.

Hamilton began to shift his mindset, reframing disability not as an anchor but as a problem-solving exercise. Everyday tasks — carrying a bowl of cereal without spilling it, navigating unfamiliar spaces — became lessons in adaptability. Over time, that mindset extended into racing, public speaking, and personal discipline.

“I strive every day to overcome whatever barrier is in front of me,” he says. “Big or small, I tackle them the same way. The only person who can tell me I can’t do something is me.”

That philosophy now underpins his work as one of the UK’s most in-demand motivational speakers. Standing on stages across the country, Hamilton speaks candidly about resilience, failure, and mental health — subjects he believes are still misunderstood.

“Mental health is everything,” he explains. “Life is 90 percent mental and 10 percent physical. You can be as strong as you want physically, but if you don’t believe in yourself mentally, you’ll never reach your potential.”

Rather than promoting a single solution, Hamilton emphasizes experimentation. What works for one person may not work for another, he says, and progress often comes through failure. “You’ve got to learn how to fail before you can succeed. That’s how you build mental toughness.”

Today, Hamilton says he would not change his disability “for the world.” What once felt like a curse has become the foundation of his resilience, his career, and his sense of purpose. Supported throughout his journey by his family — particularly Lewis, with whom he shares a close bond — Nicolas has carved out a space that is distinctly his own.

“I’m proud of what I’ve achieved,” he says. “It hasn’t been easy. There have been a lot of ups and downs. But resilience is everything to me — and I believe there’s still more to come.”

For a man once defined by limitations imposed at birth, that belief may be his greatest victory yet.