So, I can’t quite believe it! I’m already halfway through my first Cohort as an Autism Peer Support Worker Trainer with IMROC, and honestly, I’m loving every second. I still have moments when I have to stop and think, How on earth did I get so lucky to be doing a job like this? It’s a proper grown-up job, with real responsibility, plenty to learn, and alot of really hard work. But I love every moment of it.

For those who don’t know, one of the things I get to do is educate adults who work for the NHS and beyond, helping them understand what peer support really means and why it matters. Some of the people I train , along side another trainer and Tech support, already have years of professional experience. ( It is a level 3 accredited training program- equivalent to an a level I think?) Others bring something I believe to be more valuable, their own lived experience. They are people who genuinely want to support autistic people, who want to make a difference, and who understand that sometimes the most powerful thing you can offer another person is the feeling that they are not alone.

And that is where the magic happens.

We talk about working as part of a multidisciplinary team, about sharing knowledge and learning from one another, and about making sure that being part of a big organisation never means losing sight of the individual sitting in front of you. We explore what it means to remain person-centred, to actively listen, to respect autonomy, and to remember that the autistic person is the expert in their own life.

Because supporting someone isn’t about taking over, making decisions for them, or assuming we know best. It’s about walking alongside them, helping them access the support they need, and making sure their voice is heard. It’s about empowering peers to understand their rights, including their legal rights, and supporting them to challenge decisions when those rights are not being respected. Something I have had to do all of our boys lives…and I I haven’t lost yet 😉

Often that means fighting for what’s right!

Not fighting for the sake of it, but fighting for dignity, fairness, understanding, and the right to be treated as a whole human being. Fighting against assumptions, against systems that can make people feel small, and against the idea that someone else should get to decide what a good life looks like for an autistic person.

I know how exhausting that fight can be. I know what it feels like to have a huge amount of anger sitting just beneath the surface because you can see what needs to change, but change doesn’t always come quickly. I know the frustration of wanting people to understand something that feels so obvious when you have lived it, yet somehow remains invisible to others.

But ,something has shifted for me.

IMROC hasn’t made me stop caring about the things that make me angry. It hasn’t taken away my determination, and it certainly hasn’t made me think that everything is suddenly fine. What it has given me is a different way to channel that anger. It has given me an opportunity to turn some of that frustration into education, to turn lived experience into something that can help others, and to take the things I care so deeply about into rooms where conversations can lead to real change.

Instead of just being angry about what people don’t understand, I get to help them to a greater and more empathetic understanding.Instead of always feeling frustrated by systems that don’t always work for autistic people, I get to help educate the people working within those systems. And instead of feeling as though I am constantly fighting on my own, I get to help train people who want to stand alongside autistic people and support them to fight their own battles, in their own way, with their own voices.

That doesn’t mean the fight is over for me, far from it. But It means for the first time in 18 years, I feel like I’m finally getting somewhere!

I will never stop advocating for autistic people. I will never stop challenging things that aren’t right. I will never stop believing that people deserve better when they are being let down by services that are supposed to support them. I will never stop wanting a world where autistic people are listened to, believed, respected, and supported without having to fight quite so hard for the things other people might take for granted. But ,I am learning that I don’t have to carry all of that anger on my own shoulders all the time. Sometimes, making a difference means standing up and challenging something. Sometimes, it means sitting quietly and listening. Sometimes, it means helping someone else find the confidence to speak up for themselves. And sometimes, it means educating a room full of professionals and hoping that something you say stays with them long after the training has finished.

That is what makes this job feel so important to me.

It is challenging me, stretching me, and reminding me that I still have so much to learn. It is also showing me just how much lived experience has to offer when it is welcomed, respected, and given the space it deserves. I get to bring parts of myself into my work that I once might have thought were simply part of a difficult journey. Now, those experiences can help shape conversations, influence understanding, and hopefully make things a little easier for someone else.

And I am only halfway through my first Cohort!

I also need to say a huge thank you to The IMROC Team. Both from the Neuro team and the wider community. Your support means more to me than I can properly put into words. Thank you for giving me a shot, supporting me, and being part of the journey that has brought me here. Having people around you who understand, who encourage you, and who recognise what you have to offer makes such a difference. I hope you know how much I appreciate you.

I sometimes have to pinch myself when I think about the work I get to do. I get to help educate people who make a REAL difference in the lives of autistic people. I get to share knowledge, learn from others, and be part of conversations that matter. I get to be part of something that is way bigger than me, while still bringing mine and my children’s experiences, values, and determination to the table.

What a privilege that is.

The anger might have found a new purpose, but the fight? The fight for the rights of people like my awesome Children is most definitely still on. ❤️

Archie is 18. Eighteen!!!!

18 years of us as parents loving and celebrating his truly awesome self!

Yet ,18 is a number that seems to carry a lot of weight, one that’s been a touch heavy for me to carry at times.

18 is a birthday that society tells us marks the beginning of adulthood, the point at which you are expected to step out into the world, become independent, make your own decisions and eventually live your own life. But Archie is 18, and he isn’t independent ,and we are more that ok with that. Here’s why…

For so long, in mainstream society, independence is presented as the ultimate prize. It is the thing we work towards, the milestone that tells us we have succeeded., we’ve won. We imagine our children growing up, leaving home, managing their money, getting a job, travelling independently, cooking their own meals and needing less and less help. Somehow, in societies eyes, the less support you need, the more successful you are supposed to be. But what if independence simply isn’t possible for everyone? What if, for some autistic adults,like our Awesome Archie, living alone will never be realistic? Not safe? Not right for his mental health?

What if having someone there to help navigate the world isn’t a temporary stage that they are expected to grow out of, but a lifelong need? What if comfort, safety and regulation sometimes come through other people? And what if, as loving a caring parents, we are okay with this?

We don’t want Archie to spend his life feeling as though he has failed because he hasn’t reached somebody else’s definition of independence. Why do we care what other people think of our willingness to push through outdated social barriers for the sake of our children, short answer, WE DON’T CARE! WE ONLY CARE ABOUT WHATS BEST FOR OUR CHILDREN AS INDIVIDUALS!

We don’t want “adulthood” to become a constant reminder of all the things he can’t do alone, he wants and needs something different. For our family, that something is interdependence.

Interdependence means recognising that all of us rely on other people in different ways, at different times and for different things. We often talk about independence as though it is something everyone should be able to achieve, but actually none of us are truly independent. We rely on partners, friends, parents, colleagues, professionals, technology and our communities. We ask for help when things become difficult. We lean on other people. We rely on people for emotional support, practical support and sometimes simply to get through an “ordinary” day. Yet when it comes to disabled people, needing that support is so often treated as something that should eventually be overcome. WHY?

Archie IS disabled. He is autistic, has ADHD, Tourettes Syndrome, has hypermobilty issues and an underlying bowel condition on top. DISABILITY IS NOT A DIRTY WORD, nor is it something that goes away the moment you become an adult!

Why do so many people crave total independence for their children as though the ultimate goal is to need nobody?

For our family, the goal is not for Archie to become someone who needs no one. The goal is for Archie to have a life where he feels safe, valued, heard and included. A life where his choices are respected and where his adulthood is recognised. A life where he can contribute, connect and experience joy. A life where he has the right support around him without that support somehow diminishing his adulthood.

Maybe Archie will one day live somewhere with fewer supports. Maybe he won’t. Maybe he will work, maybe he will just continue to volunteer, or maybe his contribution to the world will look completely different from what we imagined when he was little. Maybe he will want to live with other people, or maybe he will always need family close by. There may be things he learns to do that we once thought would be impossible, and there may also be things he will never be able to do independently. None of those things however, will EVER determine his worth.

Because independence isn’t a finish line. It isn’t a certificate you earn that proves you have finally become an adult. It shouldn’t be a prize held out in front of disabled people as the reward for years of therapy, teaching, practice and hard work. Sometimes the journey towards independence is incredibly difficult, and for some people it may be a journey they can only travel part of the way. That doesn’t mean they have failed.

In our family, we are choosing interdependence. Not because we have given up on Archie, we NEVER WILL, but because we believe he deserves a life where needing other people doesn’t make him less adult, less capable or less worthy. Independence might be one part of someone’s journey, but it isn’t the destination for everyone. Our family destination, is belonging. It is a good life. It is being able to live with dignity, choice, safety and connection.

And if Archie needs other people alongside him to get there, then we as a family will proudly walk with him for along as he wants and needs us to!

Happy Birthday darling Archie. You make us so proud.

“I’m too busy. I don’t have time. I’ll get to it when I have some free time”

These are things we probably all say without really thinking about it. We use it to explain why we can’t make plans, why we haven’t replied to a message, why the house is a mess, why we haven’t got around to something we wanted to do. Being busy has become almost a badge of honour, something we measure ourselves and other people by. But the more I think about it, the more I realise that busy is actually completely relative.

What feels like an impossibly full day for one person might feel completely manageable for someone else. Something that leaves one person feeling energised can leave another completely drained and I think this is particularly important when we talk about neurodivergence, because our capacity isn’t simply determined by how many things we have in our diary. It’s influenced by our neurotype, our mental health, our environment, our sensory needs, our emotional energy and, quite simply, how much capacity we have on that particular day, hour, minute!

For me, ADHD plays a huge part in this. I have ADHD, with quite a strong hyperactive side, and the funny thing is that I actually LOVE being busy. I thrive on it. My life is, by most people’s standards, incredibly full. I’m a non-profit founder, I run a small business, I’m a wife and a mum of four, and two of my children are neurodivergent. My husband works around 60 hours a week as the norm, so there is always something happening in our house, someone who needs something, something to organise, somewhere to be or another idea bouncing around my head.

And honestly, I love a lot of it.

Give me a busy day, a problem to solve, ten things to organise, a deadline looming and something new to get stuck into, and my ADHD brain can feel completely at home. I can have a ridiculous number of things going on at once and somehow feel more regulated than I would if I had nothing to do. The stimulation, the urgency and the constant movement can actually work with my brain rather than against it. This kind of busy doesn’t necessarily feel overwhelming to me. In many ways, it feels natural.

But then there are things that other people would describe as relaxing that can leave me completely overwhelmed.

Socialising is probably one of the biggest examples.

I love my friends, I genuinely do. This isn’t about not enjoying their company or not wanting to spend time with people I care about. But socialising can require a completely different kind of energy from me. Getting ready, making plans, travelling somewhere, dealing with a different environment, conversation, listening, processing, remembering what someone has said, thinking about what I’m going to say next, following multiple conversations, dealing with background noise and distractions, and constantly switching my attention can all take energy in a way that isn’t always obvious from the outside.

So while someone else might see going out for a coffee with a friend as a lovely, relaxing afternoon, my brain can experience it very differently. I can enjoy myself enormously and still come home feeling completely overloaded. I can love the people I’m with and still need to spend the next few hours in silence. And sometimes that feels strange, because from the outside it can look as though I have just spent a couple of hours doing something “easy” and enjoyable.

Meanwhile, I regularly spend an entire day working, parenting, organising, solving problems and juggling a million different things and somehow feel more comfortable with that.

It doesn’t necessarily make sense if you measure busyness by looking at someone’s calendar.

But perhaps that’s the problem. We often assume that every task has the same emotional and mental cost. It doesn’t!!!

For someone with unsupported ( or someone who doesn’t realise they are neurodivergent) ADHD or autism, everyday life can involve a huge amount of invisible processing. Things that seem small or straightforward to someone else can require enormous amounts of executive functioning, emotional regulation, sensory processing, task switching, planning, remembering and recovering. Sometimes it’s not the task itself that’s difficult. It’s everything that comes with it.

Work can feel like too much. Keeping on top of messages can feel like too much. Going to an appointment can feel like too much. Making a phone call can feel like too much. The school run can feel like too much. The supermarket can feel like too much. Socialising can feel like too much.

And sometimes the things you actually want to do can feel like too much. My son with a PDA profile can attest to this!

That can be incredibly difficult when you don’t understand why you’re struggling. It can leave you thinking, “Why can’t I just do this? Everyone else seems to manage it.” It can make you feel lazy, unreliable, antisocial or as though you’re simply not trying hard enough.

But sometimes the problem isn’t that you don’t want to do something.

Sometimes you just don’t have the capacity for it.

I think that’s an important distinction.

Because when we say, “I’m too busy,” what we often really mean is, “I don’t have the capacity for another demand right now.” And those two things aren’t necessarily the same.

I can be surrounded by things to do and feel completely energised by them. I can have a day packed from morning until night and feel like I’m thriving. But I can also reach a point where one more conversation, one more decision, one more message or one more social commitment feels enormous.

My capacity isn’t fixed and that’s something I’m still learning to accept even now.

There are days when my ADHD brain wants stimulation, noise, ideas and activity. There are days when I can take on far more than I probably should. Then there are days when I need quiet, space and very little demand placed on me. Sometimes the difference isn’t even obvious. I can wake up with a completely different level of capacity than I had the day before and that doesn’t mean I’m inconsistent. It doesn’t mean I’m difficult. It doesn’t mean I don’t care. It means I’m human, and I’m neurodivergent.

I think this is why we need to be careful about judging someone’s capacity based purely on what we can see. We don’t know what is happening inside someone’s head. We don’t know how much energy something is costing them. We don’t know how much masking, processing, regulating or recovering is happening behind the scenes. Being neuroaffirming doesn’t mean pretending that ADHD or autism never makes things difficult. It means being curious about why something is difficult rather than immediately judging the person for struggling with it. It means asking what support might make things more accessible. It means recognising that sometimes the answer isn’t “try harder” or “manage your time better”. Sometimes the answer is, “This is costing you more energy than people realise.”

I’ve had to learn that my version of a full life might not look like someone else’s. I don’t necessarily need to do less. I need to understand what actually fills my cup and what quietly drains it. So perhaps we need to stop using “I’m too busy” as though it’s a simple measurement of how much someone has on their plate because busy isn’t just about time. It’s about capacity. It’s about energy. It’s about how your brain processes the world around you and it’s about what you’re already carrying that nobody else can see.

So yes, I might be busy but “busy” isn’t the whole story! Sometimes it’s not about having too much to do. Sometimes it’s about having too much to process when your neurodivergence or mental health doesn’t give you the capacity to do it.

If you’d told me a few years ago that I’d be getting on a plane to fly to Scotland, I would have laughed and told you there was absolutely no chance.

Flying has always been one of my biggest fears. The thought of stepping onto an aircraft was enough to fill me with anxiety, and for a long time ( 22 years to be exact) I allowed that fear to decide where I could go and what I could achieve.

But sometimes, your purpose becomes bigger than your fear.

This week, I flew , with the support of my eldest, travel loving son, to Edinburgh to donate our neurodivergency programme Awesome Archie’s Connection Club to Royal Mile Primary School—becoming the first school in Scotland to receive it.

When I sat down and thought about why this trip mattered so much, I realised it wasn’t just about delivering a programme. It was about continuing a mission that has become such a huge part of my life.

I wrote this programme because I believe neurodivergent children deserve to be understood, accepted and celebrated in mainstream schools. Now, more than ever, autistic students are being let down by a system not designed to support them and that is NOT the schools fault. Too many children spend their school years feeling like they have to change who they are just to fit in. I want every child to know they are enough exactly as they are.

Every programme we sell ( through my small business Neurocreative Media) helps us reach more schools, but every now and then we choose to gift our work to a school that we feel will truly embrace its message. It’s our way of giving something back and spreading a little more understanding, kindness and acceptance.

As I looked at the map, I realised there was one part of the UK we hadn’t yet reached.

Scotland.

It didn’t sit right with me that our message of autism love, acceptance and support hadn’t crossed the border yet. Inclusion shouldn’t have boundaries. So we decided it was time.

That decision meant facing something I’d avoided for years.

Getting on that plane wasn’t easy. There were moments when every part of me wanted to stay safely on the ground. But I kept reminding myself why I was doing it. If I ask children to be brave enough to be themselves every day, then surely I could be brave enough to take two short flights?!

And I’m so glad I did.

Sharing our programme and knowing that another school is now equipped to better support its neurodivergent pupils made every anxious moment worthwhile.

But this trip became so much more than work.

I got to experience Edinburgh alongside my son, and those memories are something I’ll treasure forever. We wandered through the beautiful streets, admired the incredible history and architecture, explored together, laughed together and simply enjoyed being in such an amazing city. Watching the excitement through his eyes reminded me that sometimes the best adventures begin just outside our comfort zone.

Looking back now, I don’t just see a plane journey. I see growth, I see courage and yet another step towards building a world where neurodivergent children are met with understanding instead of misunderstanding, acceptance instead of judgement, and support instead of barriers.

If overcoming one fear means helping even one more child feel seen, then I’ll take that journey every single time….I just need a bit of recovery time first 😉

Scotland, thank you for welcoming us so warmly.

Here’s to many more schools, many more conversations, and many more children growing up knowing that being “different” isn’t something to hide—it’s something to celebrate and share proudly with the world.

@awesomearchie_

It’s been 23 years since my last flight but I was determined to get our advocacy work up into beautiful Scotland. so with the hell my son I managed to fly there today. I’m absolutely exhausted and can’t wait to explore the city tomorrow. #mentalheath #edinburgh #flying #Autistic #Neurodivergent

♬ Movin to the sun HUGEL Ultra Nate Imael Angel – HUGEL

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There’s something quite awsome about switching off from the everyday and stepping onto a ship where, for a whole week, your biggest decision is whether to grab another coffee, eat yet another ice cream or head out onto your balcony to watch the sea.

That’s exactly what we did as we set sail on P&O’s Arvia for a week of much needed family time, visiting Bilbao, La Coruña, Vigo and Cherbourg. After months of hard work, super long hours, school, appointments, content creation and the general chaos that comes with family life, it was exactly what we needed. We were all more than ready!

As parents, life often feels like we’re running in different directions. Between work commitments, family/ caring responsibilities and everything else that fills the calendar, quality time can sometimes become something you have to schedule rather than something that just happens.

This week gave us that awesome time back.

Seven Sunrises. Seven Sunsets.

One of my favourite parts of the cruise was something that didn’t cost a penny.

Every morning we’d wake up to a completely different view. Some mornings we’d head out onto the balcony in our PJs, coffee in hand, watching the sun slowly climb above the horizon. Other mornings we’d catch glimpses of sleepy fishing boats or distant coastlines appearing through the morning mist. Then, every evening, we’d do it all again.

Seven sunsets.

Each Sunset and sunrise is completely different from the last. Some painted the sky orange and pink. Others disappeared behind “toy story”clouds, turning the whole ocean into shimmering gold. It’s funny how something so simple can make you slow down and take a breath.

At home, sunsets happen while we’re cooking dinner, answering emails or reminding someone to brush their teeth. On board, we actually stopped to watch them. Every single one.

We are that gaming family!

The Arvia has incredible entertainment, fantastic shows and loads to do but truthfully, some of our favourite memories happened around a table in the Atrium with a pack of cards.

We spent hours playing card games together, no phones,no rushing for the next meeting, no distractions. Just laughing, being ridiculously competitive, making up silly rules halfway through and just enjoying each other’s company.

As parents, those uninterrupted hours together are priceless because we so rarely have them. My Husband works a 40 hour week minimum and I am caring for Arch, being a proud mum to our four kids, running a home all whilst trying to carve out my own career. Its BUSY! And when life is busy, it’s easy to be physically present but mentally somewhere else. This week gave us permission to just be together.

And honestly, I think we all needed it.

Seeing Europe One Port at a Time

One of the joys of cruising is waking up somewhere new every couple of days with zero effort!

Our first stop was Bilbao, a city that blends beautiful modern architecture with traditional Spanish charm.

Then came La Coruña, where the relaxed pace made it easy to simply enjoy exploring together. We didn’t feel pressured to tick off every attraction—we just enjoyed being there together.

Vigo brought another chance to stretch our legs and enjoy plenty of sunshine.

Finally, we arrived in Cherbourg, France, with its lovely waterfront, EPIC submarine tour and slower pace offering the perfect end to our itinerary before heading back home.

One of the things we love about cruising is that every destination gives you a little taste of somewhere new without the stress of constantly packing and unpacking.

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Cruising as a Neurodivergent Family

One of the questions we’re asked most online is: “Is cruising suitable for neurodivergent families?” For us, the answer continues to be yes…100% but, it takes thought and forward planning.

One thing that made getting ready for this cruise so much easier was using my own Cruise Planner digital download to organise everything from packing lists and medication schedules to dinner reservations and daily plans. It helped take the stress out of the preparation, meaning we could focus on enjoying our holiday from the moment we stepped onboard. If you’d like to get organised for your next cruise too, you can find my Cruise Planner in my Etsy store

Not every moment is perfect because no holiday ever is….nor is real family life, but having familiar surroundings every evening, predictable routines on board, plenty of quiet spaces when needed and the flexibility to do as much—or as little—as we wanted made a huge difference.

There was space to regulate . Space to recharge. Space to have downtime without feeling like we were missing out.

Every neurodivergent family is different, and everyone’s needs are unique, but experiences like this remind us why we love sharing honest content rather than polished highlights. Because the real moments matter.

Why We’re Sharing It All

This holiday wasn’t just about making memories for ourselves, It was also about creating content that we hope will help other neurodivergent families.

Throughout the week we filmed loads of real-life moments, behind-the-scenes experiences and honest reflections that we’ll be sharing over the coming weeks.

We’ll be posting our “Spend the Day With Me” (STDWM) videos, practical hints and tips, what worked well for us, the challenges we experienced and everything we wish we’d known before travelling so if you’re a neurodivergent family wondering whether cruising could work for you, we want to answer those questions honestly.

@awesomearchie_

spend the day with us as a neurodivergent family travelling to Spain and France on the arvia. This is the first part of our series supporting neurodivergent families to enjoy holidays and find the courage to take a leap into going abroad. #traveltips #neurodivergentfamily #autisticcreator #stdwm #autism @P&O Cruises

♬ Relaxed and chill lofi hip hop long version(1580488) – Koko ni studio

Not with picture-perfect travel brochures but with genuine lived experiences.

The good bits, tough bit, funny bits, unexpected bits and the little things that can make a big difference. If our experiences help just one family feel more confident about booking their first holiday, it’ll all have been worthwhile.

Coming Home Feeling Refreshed

Of course, like all good holidays, our week away eventually came to an end. We arrived home to overflowing washing baskets, suitcases waiting to be unpacked and the reality of everyday life creeping back in. But alongside the laundry, we’ve brought home something far more valuable than souvenirs.

We’ve returned feeling refreshed, reconnected and grateful for seven days of genuine family time filled with conversations, laughter and moments where nobody was constantly watching the clock. We watched seven beautiful sunrises and seven unforgettable sunsets, played countless card games, shared so many smiles and made memories that we’ll be talking about for years to come.

Sometimes you don’t realise just how much you need to slow down until life gives you the opportunity to do exactly that. Now it’s time to sort through the hundreds of photos and videos, share our adventures online and hopefully inspire and support other neurodivergent families by offering honest insights, practical tips and real-life experiences from our trip. Because every family deserves the chance to reconnect, and sometimes all it takes is a ship, the open sea and a week away from the everyday.

People often say that the hardest years of parenting are when your children are little. The sleepless nights, the endless worry, the meltdowns, the development milestones, the constant demands. But no one really prepares you for parenting adult children.

Because the worry doesn’t disappear, far from it—it just really changes.

As a proud neurodivergent mum, there will always be a part of me that sees my son as my baby, no matter how old he gets. My instinct is and will always be to protect him, to make sure he’s safe, to solve problems before they become overwhelming. But somewhere along the way, that role begins to shift. Instead of holding on tightly, you have to learn how to loosen your grip and trust that you’ve given them the tools they need.

And that is so much easier said than done.

For me, this journey is made even more complicated because I am an AuDHDer and live with anxiety. My brain naturally thinks about every possible outcome, every “what if,” every scenario where something could go wrong. It isn’t because I don’t trust my son, he’s incredible and I am so proud of him—it’s because my mind is wired to anticipate danger and prepare for it.

Finding the balance between being a caring mum and stepping back has been one of the biggest emotional challenges I’ve faced and I dont always get it right.

Our eldest son, Joshua, has a real love for solo travel. While a massive part of me feels incredibly anxious every time he heads off on another adventure, another part (a bigger part) of me is bursting with pride and sheer admiration. He’s so brave, independent, curious, and confident enough to explore the world on his own.

I admire that so much!!!

Every trip reminds us that he isn’t our little boy anymore. He’s his own person, creating memories, meeting people, and experiencing things I never could have imagined for him when I first held him in my arms two decades ago. I know, I dont look old enough 😉

Of course, that doesn’t stop me checking my phone a little too often or feeling like I can finally breathe again when I get a message saying he’s arrived safely or sent beautiful scenic pics of where he is.

After sharing this challenge on my Tik Tok channel it became clear from all the comments from lovely parents, that part of motherhood ever really leaves us.

What makes me even prouder is the person Joshua has become at home, not just abroad. He has been an incredible support in helping to support Archie . Caring isn’t always easy. It takes patience, compassion, understanding, and often putting someone else’s needs before your own.

Joshua has shown all of those qualities.

Watching the relationship between them has filled my heart more times than I can count. Seeing him step up without complaint, offering support and love, reminds me that although I still see my baby, he has grown into an amazing young man.

Sometimes I wonder whether I’m getting the balance right. Am I worrying too much? Am I holding on too tightly? Am I giving him enough space to become exactly who he’s meant to be? And the truth is, I don’t think that I’ll ever really know the answer to that complex balance.

I think many parents of adult children quietly wrestle with the same questions because parenting doesn’t end when they turn eighteen. It evolves. The love stays just as strong, but the job description changes. Instead of directing every step, you’re learning to cheer from the sidelines, or at least trying to! Instead of catching every fall, you’re trusting them to find their feet even when you can see the fall coming!

For someone with AuDHD and anxiety, that trust doesn’t come naturally every day. It takes a real conscious effort. It takes reminding myself that independence isn’t rejection. That needing me less doesn’t mean loving me less.

If anything, watching Joshua build his own life while still choosing to be there for our family makes me appreciate our relationship even more.

So, if you’re another parent finding it hard to let go, you’re not alone. Missing them, worrying about them, and wanting to protect them forever simply means you love them deeply.

The challenge is remembering that our job isn’t to keep them in the nest forever.

It’s to help them build wings strong enough to fly.

And even when they soar across the world, they’ll always know where home is.

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There are moments in life that quietly arrive without much Drama or fanfare. Moments when you realise that a chapter you’ve been writing for years has reached its natural conclusion and this week, I made the decision ( at the end of this academic year) to step away from my weekly volunteering in schools after 11 years.

Eleven years!!! Writing that down feels surreal.

What started as a way to give something back became a huge part of my life.

Every week, I’d walk through those school gates with a box of craft supplies, a plan (usually!), and the excitement of seeing what the kids and I would create. I’ve watched tiny Reception children grow into confident senior school pupils. I’ve met incredible teachers, wonderful staff, and had the privilege of being part of countless, wonderful school memories.

I’ve also worked for some absolute shockers too, but thats another story 😉

From art sessions, Awesome Archie’s connection Club and messy projects to assemblies, themed weeks, and everything in between, it’s been a joy.

But life has seasons.

Our family life is ever changing, and as Archie grows , so do his needs and right now I feel that my time needs to look a little different. As difficult as this decision has been, I know it’s the right one. I can no longer commit to donating one day every week, and that’s okay.

Over the last 5 years it has also been incredibly disheartening to spend hours creating and emailing FREE resources, supporting neurodivergent children, to literally hundreds of schools to realise that only the same small handful ever take a moment to even reply or acknowledge the work given to support them. Unsurprisingly that has meant that I have somewhat lost my love for the education sector 🙁

To those schools that HAVE used our free resources / had us for assemblies etc…. THANKYOU! x

One thing I’ve learned over the years is that sometimes the bravest thing we can do is recognise when it’s time to let go of something good to make space for what’s needed the most. Archie is becoming an adult, but obviously his needs don’t diminish, in many ways things get tougher. So his development, his life experiences and our family as a whole deserve more than I have had time to give .

While this chapter is closing, another is flourishing. NeuroCreative Media ( my small business) continues to slowly grow , and our Brand new Etsy store means these resources are still reaching the children who need them—just through a different path.

https://neurocreativemedia.etsy.com

We also will continue to support parents via our non profit as heaven knows , we all need the help!

I’m simply closing one chapter, not the whole book and looking back, I feel nothing but gratitude.

Thank you to every member of staff who welcomed me into their classrooms. Particularly Mr Croutear ( Head of the Priory School). Thank you to every child who proudly showed me their masterpiece, made me laugh, or reminded me why creativity and neuroaffirmation matters so much. Thank you for trusting me to be a small part of your school journey.

Eleven years is a long time. It’s become part of who I am and walking away feels emotional because it mattered. But endings aren’t always sad. Sometimes they’re simply a sign that life is moving forward.

So here’s to the next chapter. To new routines, new priorities, and making sure I’m where I’m needed most.

And to “those” school gates… thank you for 11 wonderful years.

End of an era. But not the end of the story.

This weekend we had the pleasure of attending the Autism & ADHD Show in London again and as always, it was a day packed with laughter, learning, connections, inspiration, and plenty of conversations that left me thinking long after I got home.

Archie wasn’t up for it this year ( last year he was amazing but it certainly took a lot out of him) and so Joshua looked after him so we could attend . Daisy proudly came as his representative as she so often does, and did an incredible job. Massive thanks to Josh and Daisy for being incredible superhero siblings and amazing supports for both Archie and I.

Going to London twice a year to be with like minded folk is genuinely one of my favourite things to do. One of the highlights of the day was spending time walking around the stand area, where I had the opportunity to meet so many passionate people and organisations dedicated to supporting neurodivergent individuals and their families.

A proper standout moment for me was meeting the truly awesome Chrissa from Sunshine Support. If you’ve ever come across Sunshine Support, you’ll know the incredible work they do helping families navigate the often complex world of SEND, education, and support services. Chrissa was absolutely amazing to speak with. Her knowledge, passion, and genuine commitment to helping families, including mine is infectious. I did have a bit of a fan girl moment and got over excited but she was lovely 🙂 We have exchanged deets and so hopefully we will stay in touch moving forward.

Another highlight was seeing my truly lovely pal Dale Pickles. Dale and his equally amazing business partner always give so much energy, insight, and practical thinking to the SEND and neurodiversity space. Dale is my kind of “go to” when it comes to me supporting Archie into adulthood and hopefully finding a career that suits his own social struggles but immense talents for many things . Dale has built his own successful career without compromising his own self or needs. I want that for Arch!

In the UK, only around 30–34% of working-age autistic people are in employment, compared with over 80% of non-disabled people. Research also shows that autistic graduates are twice as likely to be unemployed as their non-autistic peers, with only around 36% securing full-time work within 15 months of graduating. Although we NEVER put a ceiling on our sons ability, he knows that he will likely not gain a degree, so you can imagine our fears for him as a contributing and fully fulfilled adult.

Many autistic people want to work but face unfair barriers such as inaccessible recruitment processes, sensory challenges in the workplace, difficulties with social expectations, and a lack of understanding or reasonable adjustments from employers. These statistics are not a reflection of autistic people’s abilities—they highlight the need for more inclusive workplaces that recognise and value neurodivergent talent.

This is why although Archie isn’t developmentally ready yet to work, we are doing all we can to ensure that he has opportunities if and when that time comes.

While catching up with all the latest, Dale told me about a chat he had with someone who had coined a rather lovely word that I thought would be perfect to use as a kind of theme for this weeks blog. “Neurodrifting.”

The term immediately resonated with me. It is 100% me, 100% of the time.

Neurodrifting or me, a Neurodrifter, describes many of us within the neurodivergent community who naturally drift from interest to interest, project to project, and idea to idea. Rather than following a single, linear path, we often explore multiple passions, diving deeply into one thing before being pulled towards another exciting discovery. For those of us with ADHD, autism, or a combination of both, this experience can feel incredibly familiar.

Too often society expects consistency, specialisation, and sticking rigidly to one thing for uber long periods of time. But Neurodrifting acknowledges something many of us have always known: our curiosity, creativity, and desire to explore different interests is not a flaw. It’s simply part of how our minds work and its certainly helped me to evolve and grow!

I LOVE this term and so now proudly call myself a neurodrifter!

Listening to Dale discuss this concept sparked loads of reflection. How many of us have felt guilty for moving on from a hobby, changing career paths, or discovering a new special interest? Perhaps recognising that you are a Neurodrifter offers a more positive way of viewing that journey—one that celebrates exploration rather than criticising it.

I also used the show as an opportunity to talk about Awesome Archie’s Connection Club, a programme that means a lot to us. Events like this are a great chance to raise awareness of the importance of connection, inclusion and support for neurodivergent mainstream primary school students. I had some really positive conversations with attendees and exhibitors about our programme, sharing how we’re helping to create a welcoming space where autistic and ADHD individuals can build friendships, feel understood and connect with others who share similar experiences. For more info check out our sister sight www.neurocreativemedia.co.uk

The Autism & ADHD Show continues to be one of the best places to connect with like-minded people, discover new ideas, and learn from those making a real difference in the neurodivergent community. From meaningful conversations with organisations like Sunshine Support to thought-provoking talks from speakers like Dale Pickles, the event reminded me once again of the strength, diversity, and creativity that exists within our community.

I left once again feeling informed, inspired, and proud to be part of a community that continues to challenge assumptions, share experiences, and create new ways of understanding ourselves.

Here’s to more conversations, more connections, and perhaps embracing our inner Neurodrifter along the way.

Sightseeing BABY!!!

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After spending the morning at the Autism & ADHD Show, We decided to make the most of our time in London and explore the city for the rest of the day.

We headed into central London and started with a visit to the M&M’s Store. It was incredibly bright, colourful, busy, and full of buzzy energy. Next, the LEGO Store, which was packed with incredible displays and loads to look at. Very cool!

London on a weekend is always bustling, and travelling on the Underground between destinations added to the sensory experience. I’ll be honest—at times it was overwhelming. The crowds, noise, constant movement, and navigating unfamiliar places took a lot of energy. As an autistic person, days like this can be really challenging, and there were definitely moments when I felt the strain of it all.

But alongside that feeling was something else: pride.

I was really proud of myself and our daughter for doing it. Proud that I pushed outside my comfort zone, managed the busy environment, and kept going even when it felt like a lot. It’s easy to focus on the difficult moments, but it’s important to recognise the achievements too.

Ian , Daisy and I walked miles across the city, taking in the sights and enjoying the atmosphere. One highlight was visiting Platform 9¾, Daisy is a HUGE Harry Potter fan.

We decided to go to Chinatown for dinner to enjoy some authentic asian yumminess and after such a busy day, it was the perfect way to slow down! We enjoyed some seriously good food, and reflected on everything we’d seen and done.

By the time we walked miles back to our hotel, my feet and hips were definitely feeling the effects of all the walking, but it was worth every step. It had been a day filled with learning, exploration, challenges, and gratitide.

Bring on the TES SEND show in October where we do it all again 🙂

For decades I thought I was just naturally untidy. I was the person who always seemed to be running late, forgetting appointments, misplacing important documents, and constantly feeling like I was trying to catch up with everyone else.

No matter how hard I tried, organisation never seemed to come naturally to me. I’d start new routines on a Monday, and promise myself that this time things would be different.

Usually, by Thursday, I’d be overwhelmed with the effort, burnt out and completely abandoned the new routine altogether.

When I later learned more about ADHD and executive functioning, so many pieces of the puzzle suddenly fell into place.

One of the lesser-known aspects of ADHD is the impact it can have on executive function. Executive functions are the mental skills that help us plan, organise, prioritise, manage time, remember tasks, and follow through on goals. They are the behind-the-scenes processes that help us navigate daily life.

For many people with ADHD, these skills don’t come automatically, thats certainly true for me . It isn’t about laziness, a lack of desire or not caring enough. In fact, many of us care deeply. The challenge is often bridging the gap between intention and action. I always had good intentions.

I genuinely wanted a tidy home. I wanted to remember birthdays. I wanted to arrive early. I wanted to stay on top of paperwork, meal planning, household tasks, and work deadlines. But, the problem wasn’t knowing what needed to be done. The problem was keeping track of it all consistently.

Like many people with ADHD, my brain seemed to hold information loosely. A task could feel incredibly important one moment and completely disappear from my mind the next. If something wasn’t directly in front of me, it often stopped existing altogether.

This created a cycle of stress. I would forget something….again, feel frustrated with myself, try harder, become overwhelmed, and then repeat the whole process again.

Over time, though, I realised something important.

I didn’t need to become a different person. I didn’t need to force myself to be “naturally” organised. I simply needed systems that worked WITH my brain rather than against it.

That realisation changed everything.

Around twelve years ago, I started creating my own planning systems. Instead of trying to fit into planners designed for people who naturally remember everything, I began designing very crude but helpful tools just for me that supported me the way I actually think.

I had simple layouts on scraps of paper, visual reminders on “post its” stuck to the cupboards. Dumped thoughts into any old left over note pad. I just needed somewhere to capture the endless stream of thoughts, appointments, ideas, and tasks that seemed to bounce around my head all day.

Most importantly, I needed systems that felt realistic and helpful rather than perfect.

Little by little, those systems transformed my daily life.

Today, my home is organised. My appointments get remembered. My deadlines are managed. Of course, I still have ADHD moments—I’m a proud neurodivergent human after all—but the difference is that I no longer rely solely on memory or motivation. I rely on the systems I have created so they do the work for me.

Fast forward to now, what started as rather basic personal tools eventually became something I am super proud to share with others. That’s why I opened my Etsy store and began selling the (vastly new and improved) planners and organisational resources I had developed for myself.

Every planner I create comes from real-life experience. They’re designed by someone who understands what it’s like to stare at a growing to-do list and not know where to begin. They’re built for people who need structure without rigidity, guidance without overwhelm, and organisation that feels achievable. they are used by me, my family, my friends!

I know firsthand that getting organised isn’t about becoming perfect. It’s about reducing stress. It’s about creating a little more calm in your day. It’s about giving your future self a helping hand.

Whether you have ADHD, struggle with executive function, or simply find life a bit chaotic sometimes, having the right tools can make a remarkable difference.

The systems I use today aren’t complicated. In fact, their simplicity is exactly why they work. They help me keep track of the things my brain naturally struggles to hold onto, freeing up more energy for the things that matter most.

If you’ve ever felt like organisation just wasn’t “your thing,” I hope this serves as a reminder that there is no one-size-fits-all approach. Sometimes the answer isn’t trying harder.

The answer is finding a system that works for you.

After twelve years of living with systems that support my ADHD brain, I can honestly say that organisation isn’t about perfection—it’s about creating tools that make everyday life easier.

And that is exactly what I hope my planners help others do too.

https://neurocreativemedia.etsy.com

We are EXTREMELY excited to finally share something we’ve been working ferociously hard towards for months now.

Neurocreative Media Digital Downloads is officially live on Etsy!

Over the years, Awesome Archie Non Profit has been the proud creator of hundreds of educational, creative, and wellbeing resources that I have personally developed and donated to multiple school, kids and families. Even one to the Salvation Army youth team!

These contributions have not only strengthened our ability to support children, families, and communities, but also inspired the creation of my own small business, Neurocreative Media back in October 2025.

Neurocreative Media specialises in designing innovative resources, creative content, and inclusive learning materials that help individuals, organisations, schools and communities thrive. While Awesome Archie operates as a non-profit organisation focused on direct community support, fundraising, and charitable initiatives, Neurocreative Media works from a social enterprise perspective, creating tools and resources that empower others to make a positive impact.

Together, they support the community from different angles—one through charitable action and one through creative innovation—but both share the same goal: improving lives, promoting inclusion, and creating opportunities for people to reach their full potential.

Born from our deeply rooted passion for supporting neurodivergent children, families, schools and organisations this new venture sits proudly alongside the work we do through both Awesome Archie and NCM!

Over the last few months, I have been beavering away behind the scene , creating digital, downloadable goodies designed to make everyday life a little easier, a lot more organised, and super empowering.

Our growing collection includes:

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And EVERY resource has been created with a huge amount of care, understanding, and lived experience at its heart, with most of our resources already being used by us personally , our families and our affiliated schools every day 🙂 All of the items we sell have been officially approved my Awesome Archie himself!

So Why Etsy?

Quite simply, because we want to significantly grow our reach! We are always trying to find ways of supporting the neurodivergent community and expansion is a MASSIVE part of that! Not to mention the fact that maybe one day this is a venture that Archie could take over and finally be able to access the right to work, like everyone should. The quiet creativity and working from home would be an ideal job for him one day… we hope!

Also, over the years we’ve seen firsthand how difficult it can be for families, carers, educators, and support workers to access affordable neurodiversity-friendly resources. Many useful tools come with a hefty price tag, creating unnecessary barriers for those who need them most.

My own unique combination of skills, extensive experience ( almost 2 decades) and multidisciplinary expertise enables me to deliver a level of creativity, insight, and quality that is difficult to find elsewhere. As a tiny business owner I personally manage every aspect of all my projects, from concept development and design through to delivery and evaluation. As a result, my daily rate reflects the depth of knowledge, flexibility, and value that I bring, and I have zero shame in that. However, I firmly believe that high-quality creative and educational resources should be accessible to everyone. That is why many of our services, resources, and support packages are offered at highly affordable rates, ensuring that individuals, community groups, schools, charities, and organisations can benefit regardless of budget. This balance allows us to remain sustainable while staying true to our commitment to inclusivity and community impact.

Accessibility has always been at the centre of everything we do.

That’s why our digital downloads are priced between 50p and £15, making them genuinely affordable and accessible to as many people as possible. We believe support shouldn’t be a luxury, and having access to helpful resources shouldn’t depend on your budget.

Why Now?

Because now, more than ever, our neurodivergent children need us to be loud, proud, and unapologetic in celebrating who they are.

There is still so much misunderstanding surrounding autism, ADHD, and other forms of neurodivergence. Too often, children are expected to fit into systems that weren’t designed with them in mind.

We want to help change that.

By creating practical, positive, and inclusive resources, we hope to support children in embracing their strengths, understanding their needs, and feeling seen, valued, and celebrated. Neurodivergent children do not need fixing. They need understanding, acceptance, and environments that allow them to thrive.

Every printable downloaded, every resource shared, and every conversation started helps build a world that is more inclusive and supportive for the next generation.

So, to everyone who has supported Awesome Archie or Neurocreative Media and our work so far—thank you. Your encouragement, feedback, and belief in what we do has helped make this next chapter possible.

We’re incredibly proud of Neurocreative Media Digital Downloads, and we’re even more excited about what’s still to come.

We can’t wait to continue creating resources that support, empower, and celebrate neurodivergent children and the amazing people who champion them every day.

Here’s to being loud. Here’s to being proud. Here’s to making support accessible for everyone.

Welcome to Neurocreative Media Digital Downloads on ETSY.

To can either click in the link below or enter via our official website

https://www.neurocreativemedia.co.uk/

https://neurocreativemedia.etsy.com