Holidays: why they feel harder than staying at home (and what actually helps)
There’s a narrative that holidays are meant to be the “easy bit.” The break. The recharge. The part where everything slows down and family life suddenly becomes soft-edged and sunlit.
For my family, that has rarely been the reality. More often, holidays are harder than staying at home. Not in a dramatic, Instagram-unfriendly way. Just in a layered, cumulative, constantly-adjusting kind of way that takes more energy than people expect.
Change is difficult. Even “nice” change. New environments, new beds, new sounds, new routines, new layouts of space and time. What looks like freedom on paper often feels like cognitive overload in practice. For neurodivergent kids (and honestly, neurodivergent adults too), there is no “holiday mode switch” that suddenly makes flexibility easy.
Then there’s the weather. Hot weather sounds like a bonus until it becomes another sensory demand. Too bright, too warm, too sticky, too much clothing or not enough structure to the day. Everyone slightly unravelled in different directions at the same time.
Crowds don’t help either. Places that are designed to be enjoyable become unpredictable obstacle courses of noise, queues, waiting, bumping, rushing, and overstimulation.
And underneath all of that is the real work most parents are doing quietly: managing multiple neurodivergent needs at once. Different thresholds. Different triggers. Different recovery times. Different needs for control, space, reassurance, food, movement, quiet, connection. It’s like running several nervous systems on different operating systems in the same small space.
Last summer, my eldest refused to go on holiday at all. That wasn’t a “behaviour” problem. It was a capacity decision. A nervous system saying: I can’t add this on top of everything else. And once you understand it like that, it changes how you see the whole idea of “family holiday success.”
So what actually helps? One of the biggest shifts for us has been letting go of the idea that holidays have to look different every time.
Going to the same place repeatedly has been unexpectedly powerful. Familiarity reduces load. The more predictable the environment, the less energy is spent decoding it. It becomes less about “new experience!” and more about “we know how this works.” That shift alone can make the difference between meltdown and manageable.
Timing matters more than people realise too. Out-of-season travel, or at least avoiding peak school holidays where possible, changes everything. Not just price, but pace. Fewer people, less pressure, more space to exist without constant negotiation with the environment.
There’s also something important in the legal and practical reality of school attendance that families don’t always feel empowered to use: schools can authorise absence for exceptional circumstances. Holidays don’t automatically have to be unauthorised if there is a genuine wellbeing need, and it is always worth having that conversation early, clearly, and in writing. Not as a confrontation, but as collaboration around a child’s capacity and family functioning. For neurodivergent children in particular, predictability of breaks that work for them can be protective rather than disruptive.
Accommodation choice also matters more than I ever used to think it would. Hotels often sound convenient, but they can amplify overload: shared corridors, breakfast rooms, noise at all hours, lack of control over space.
An Airbnb or similar self-contained space can be the difference between coping and not coping. Having a “home-from-home” means there is somewhere to decompress that isn’t constantly socially or sensory loaded. A kitchen. A door you can close. A space that belongs to you for the week, even if everything else feels unfamiliar.
Airports and travel hubs are their own category of challenge. The Hidden Disabilities Sunflower lanyard scheme, run by Hidden Disabilities Sunflower, has genuinely made a difference for us. Not magically easier, not stress-free—but more understood. More pauses offered. More staff awareness. More permission to take things at a different pace without having to explain everything repeatedly in moments when you don’t have the words for it.
And then there’s the invisible tension that sits underneath all of this: cost versus reward. Because holidays are expensive. Financially, emotionally, and in preparation load. And when things go well, they can feel absolutely worth it. But when they don’t, the question lingers afterwards: was that worth the energy it took to get there?
For me, the most honest version of planning now includes that question upfront. Not as pessimism, but as realism. What is the likely return on emotional and sensory investment? What level of disruption can we actually absorb right now? What needs to be in place for this to be survivable, not just aspirational?
And then there’s the parental organiser role. The invisible job that doesn’t stop just because you’re not at home. Packing, planning, anticipating, problem-solving, regulating everyone else’s regulation, carrying the “what ifs,” managing the expectations of others while quietly tracking the capacity of your own family system in real time.
That role doesn’t go on holiday.
So when I think about what actually makes holidays possible for families like ours, it isn’t about perfection or escape. It’s about reducing unknowns. Increasing familiarity. Building in recovery space. Choosing environments that flex with us instead of forcing us to flex constantly.
And redefining success.
Sometimes success is a magical week of memories.
Sometimes it’s just getting through without anyone hitting burnout.
Both count.
FASD: Understanding the Invisible Differences
There are children and young people walking into schools every day who are trying their absolute best… and still being misunderstood. Not because they won’t, but because their brains work differently.
One of the most overlooked reasons for this?
Foetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder (FASD).
What is FASD?
FASD is a lifelong neurodevelopmental condition caused by alcohol exposure during pregnancy.
Alcohol crosses the placenta and can affect the developing brain and body at any stage of pregnancy — often before someone even knows they are pregnant.
FASD isn’t always visible. You won’t necessarily “see” it in the way people expect. But it can impact:
Memory and processing
Emotional regulation
Impulse control
Understanding consequences
Social communication
Which means what often gets labelled as:
“defiance”
“attention seeking”
“lazy”
“not trying”
…is very often something else entirely.
It’s brain-based. Not behaviour-based.
What Causes FASD?
FASD is caused by prenatal exposure to alcohol.
And this is where we need to be really clear — because this is where the myths do damage.
It is not just caused by:
heavy drinking
alcohol dependency
repeated high consumption
FASD can occur when:
alcohol is consumed before pregnancy is known
drinking happens occasionally or socially
exposure happens at critical points in brain development
There is no known safe amount of alcohol in pregnancy. And crucially:
It is not always about “heavy drinking”
It can happen in pregnancies where there was no intention to cause harm
It is often linked to lack of awareness, mixed messaging, or timing
Let’s Gently Dispel a Harmful Myth
There’s a narrative that FASD only happens in “extreme” situations.
That it’s rare.
That it’s obvious.
That it’s someone else’s story.
That narrative stops recognition.
And when we don’t recognise it — we misinterpret it.
Some people believe:
“Surely one drink won’t matter.”
The truth is more uncomfortable. We cannot predict how alcohol will affect a developing brain. We don’t know what amount may cause harm in any individual pregnancy. Which is why the guidance is clear:
No alcohol = no risk.
But this isn’t about blame. Because many parents:
didn’t know they were pregnant
weren’t planning/trying to conceive
were given conflicting advice
were told small amounts were “fine”
So instead of blame, we need understanding.
How Common is FASD?
FASD is more common than most people realise.
In the UK, estimates suggest:
Around 3–6% of the population may be affected
That’s potentially 1 in every classroom
Yet it remains:
underdiagnosed
misunderstood
often mislabelled as ADHD, autism, trauma, or “challenging behaviour”
Sometimes it sits alongside those — sometimes it’s missed entirely.
The Impact on Children and Young People
For a child with FASD, the world can feel confusing and unpredictable.
You might see:
big emotional reactions that seem to come “out of nowhere”
difficulty following multi-step instructions
repeating the same mistakes despite consequences
struggles with friendships
anxiety or shutdown when things change
And over time? Without understanding, that can turn into:
low self-esteem
school avoidance
exclusion
mental health difficulties
Not because they can’t thrive, but because the environment hasn’t adapted to them.
Can FASD Be Prevented?
Yes — in a very clear, simple way:
By avoiding alcohol during pregnancy.
But prevention isn’t just about individual choices.
It’s about:
clear, consistent public health messaging
removing mixed advice (“a little is fine”)
supporting people before and during pregnancy
reducing stigma so conversations can happen openly
Because silence and shame don’t prevent FASD, information and support do.
What Actually Helps?
When we understand the brain, everything changes.
Support isn’t about stricter boundaries or harsher consequences.
It’s about:
co-regulation before expectation
simplifying and breaking down instructions
repetition without shame
predictability and routine
reducing overwhelm in the environment
And most importantly seeing the child, not just the behaviour.
A Final Thought
Children with FASD are often described as:
kind
funny
determined
full of potential
But they are also often the children who get misunderstood the most because their differences are invisible. So when we shift from “What’s wrong with them?” to “What’s going on in their brain?”, we don’t just change how we respond, we change their entire experience of the world.
Need Support?
If you’re a parent or professional trying to make sense of behaviour that doesn’t quite “fit” — you’re not alone.
At Family Avenues, we help you understand what’s underneath the behaviour and what actually helps.
Our 90-minute Direction Call gives you clarity, practical strategies, and a way forward that fits your family.
Organisations offering FASD support:
All things Stimming
More than what it looks like
When people hear the word stimming, they often picture hand flapping or rocking.
And yes — those are forms of stimming.
But that’s only part of the picture.
Stimming (short for self-stimulatory behaviour) is something many autistic people — and neurodivergent people more broadly — use to regulate their emotions, process sensory input, and feel more in control of their environment.
It isn’t just something children do. It isn’t always obvious. And it isn’t something that needs to be “stopped”.
What is stimming?
Stimming refers to repetitive movements, sounds, or behaviours that help a person regulate.
This might be:
• calming themselves when overwhelmed • focusing or concentrating • expressing excitement • managing anxiety • or simply doing something that feels good
For many, it’s a natural and essential way of coping.
It doesn’t always look how you expect
Some stimming is easy to recognise.
But much of it is subtle — especially in older children and adults.
More obvious stimming
• Hand flapping • Rocking • Spinning • Repeating sounds or phrases • Jumping or pacing
Less obvious stimming (often missed or misunderstood)
• Twirling or playing with hair • Picking at skin, nails, or clothing • Chewing on pens, sleeves, or inside of cheeks • Tapping fingers or feet in patterns • Clicking pens or opening/closing objects repeatedly • Rubbing fabrics, labels, or textures • Re-reading the same sentence or paragraph • Doodling repetitive patterns • Listening to the same song or sound on repeat • Shifting posture frequently
These behaviours are often seen as habits, fidgeting, or even “distracting behaviour” — but they are often doing an important regulatory job.
Stimming in adults
Many adults still stim — but it may look different.
Over time, people often learn to mask or adapt their stimming so it appears more socially acceptable.
This might look like:
• tapping a foot under the table • fiddling with jewellery • using a phone or scrolling repeatedly • drinking or smoking more frequently • needing constant background noise
Sometimes, adults don’t even realise they are stimming — they just know certain things help them feel calmer or more focused.
Why stimming matters
Stimming is not “bad behaviour”.
It is:
👉 communication 👉 regulation 👉 a coping strategy
When we try to stop stimming without understanding it, we risk removing something that is helping the person manage their environment.
Do we ever need to worry?
In most cases, no.
Stimming is a healthy and important part of regulation.
However, it may need more attention if:
• it is causing physical harm (e.g. skin damage, hair pulling) • it is causing significant pain • it is putting the person or others at risk
Even then, the goal isn’t to stop the stimming entirely — it’s to understand the need behind it and support safer alternatives.
What actually helps
The most helpful starting point is curiosity.
Rather than asking:
👉 “How do I stop this?”
Try asking:
👉 “What might this person need right now?”
Helpful approaches
✔ Allow safe stimming If it isn’t causing harm, it’s often best to let it be.
✔ Look for patterns When does it happen? What’s going on just before?
✔ Reduce overwhelm Stimming often increases when environments feel too much.
✔ Offer alternatives (if needed) Fidget tools, chewable items, or sensory objects can help where behaviours are causing discomfort.
✔ Support regulation proactively Movement breaks, quiet time, or sensory input before things escalate.
✔ Respond with curiosity, not correction This shift alone can change everything.
A final thought
Not all stimming is visible. Not all stimming is understood.
But for many people, it is an essential part of how they move through the world.
When we begin to see stimming not as something to stop, but as something to understand, we move closer to supporting people in a way that truly meets their needs.
At Family Avenues
We support families and professionals to better understand behaviour, reduce overwhelm, and find strategies that work in real life.
👉 Explore our free resource hub or services to find out more.
Building Your Own Village
When we’re asked what support we have around us, we often think about family — or friends who visit.
But for many families, that isn’t the reality.
Sometimes family and friends don’t live nearby.
Sometimes they do, but aren’t able to offer the kind of support we need.
And sometimes, those relationships just aren’t there.
Over time, I’ve come to realise that we often have to build our own village of support — and that support doesn’t always look how we expect.
Some of the most meaningful support can come from people we rarely, or never, meet in person.
Online spaces can be incredibly powerful.
Facebook support groups, local NAS groups, forums, and connections formed through shared experiences can offer understanding in a way that’s hard to find elsewhere.
One of my greatest sources of support is a WhatsApp group with two friends who are also mums to autistic children.
We rarely see each other in person.
We don’t visit each other’s homes or babysit for one another.
But we message every day.
We share the highs and the lows, the funny moments, the exhausting ones.
We trust each other with the hard stuff.
We notice when one of us is struggling — and we show up.
When you connect with other parents who understand your reality, something shifts.
You don’t have to explain yourself.
You don’t have to justify your parenting.
You don’t have to apologise.
They get it — and you get them.
And that kind of understanding can lift a huge weight.
So if your “village” doesn’t look how you expected, you are not alone.
You are allowed to build one that works for you.
Join the groups.
Find your people.
And if privacy is a concern, it’s okay to create a separate profile to do so.
Support doesn’t have to be close by to be meaningful.
Sometimes, the most important support is simply knowing that someone else understands.
At Family Avenues, we often talk about the importance of connection — because no family should feel like they are navigating this alone.
Siblings: managing different needs
I was talking to a family last week about how to juggle the needs of different siblings and the challenges this can bring. When there are neurodivergent siblings in a family, parents are often balancing very different needs at the same time. One child may need significant support, flexibility or accommodation, while another may appear more independent or able to cope with everyday demands.
Over time, this can create complicated feelings within the family. Some siblings may feel overlooked, confused by different boundaries, or unsure why expectations seem to vary. These feelings are entirely understandable and deserve space to be acknowledged.
In practice:
“It makes sense that it might feel unfair sometimes when your brother needs more support and attention.”
“You don’t get less love but it might sometimes look like she gets more attention”.
“Your sister’s brain reacts very strongly to demands, so sometimes we have to approach things differently.”
“That can make it look like the rules are different, and I understand why that feels frustrating.”
Honesty about a situation builds trust.
One helpful way to approach this is to focus on the difference between fairness and equality. Equality means everyone receives the same thing, but fairness recognises that different children sometimes need different types of support.
In Practice:
“Fair doesn’t always mean the same. Sometimes people need different things.”
Examples that work well with teens:
Glasses for someone who can’t see
Crutches for a broken leg
Extra time in exams
Open conversations can help siblings understand this without dismissing their feelings. At the same time, it’s important for parents to make space for each child to feel seen and valued in their own right.
Intentional one to one time is one of the greatest protective factors for siblings. Small moments of one-to-one connection, listening to concerns without rushing to fix them, and recognising each child’s strengths can help strengthen sibling relationships and create a family environment where everyone feels they belong.
In Practice:
Even short, predictable time helps:
weekly coffee / hot chocolate trip
short walk together
watching a show together
driving somewhere together
If this resonates with your experience as a parent, you may find it helpful to talk things through with someone who understands the complexities of neurodivergent family life.
At Family Avenues, we offer supportive parent consultations where we can explore practical strategies tailored to your family.
Rainy half term ideas
🍕 Takeaway in a den
Blankets, fairy lights, sofa cushions, pizza boxes.
Same food. Completely different vibe.
(Extra regulation points for eating on the floor.)
🎧 Silent disco afternoon
Everyone wears headphones. Different music.
Zero arguments. Maximum dopamine.
You can dance, lie on the floor, or just vibe.
🛁 Pyjama spa day (no water pressure)
Fluffy socks, hand massage, hair brushing, face masks, calming scents.
No “relax properly” expectations — just cosy sensory input.
📦 Box day
Big cardboard boxes = spaceships, hideouts, shops, animal dens.
No instructions. No outcome. Just build, crawl, sit, exist.
🍟 Breakfast for dinner (or dinner for breakfast)
Totally legal. Mildly rebellious.
Predictable food + novelty = calm win.
📖 Read to your child (even if they can read)
Lights low. No questions. No comprehension chat.
Just being held by a story.
🎮 Cooperative gaming, not competitive
Games where you work together, build together, or explore.
Regulating, connecting, low emotional stakes.
🕯️ Candlelit hour (battery candles!)
Lights off. Lamps low. Quiet music.
It’s amazing how quickly nervous systems settle.
🎥 Film… but make it an event
Tickets, printed menu, intermission snacks, cosy nests.
Structure without pressure.
🧺 “Do nothing” permission slot
Put it in the schedule.
Valentine’s Day, Autism, and Relationships
Supporting Autistic Young People with Friendships, Love, and Connection
Valentine’s Day is everywhere in February. Hearts, flowers, romance, friendship bracelets, and endless messages about what relationships should look like.
For many autistic young people, this time of year can bring up big feelings – curiosity, confusion, longing, excitement, anxiety, or a sense of being “out of step” with their peers. And for parents and professionals, it often raises questions:
Do they want relationships?
How do friendships and romantic feelings show up for autistic young people?
How do we support them without pushing or protecting too much?
There’s no single autistic experience of relationships – but there are common differences worth understanding.
Relationships Aren’t Less Important – They’re Often Experienced Differently
A common myth is that autistic people are “less interested” in friendships or romantic relationships. In reality, many autistic young people deeply want connection – but may experience it, express it, or approach it differently from neurotypical peers.
Some autistic young people may:
Prefer one or two very close relationships rather than a wide friendship group
Feel overwhelmed by the unwritten rules of socialising
Experience emotions very intensely but struggle to express them in expected ways
Take language literally, which can make flirting, teasing, or “mixed messages” confusing
Need more time alone to recover from social interaction
None of this means they don’t care. Often, it means they care a lot – sometimes so much that relationships feel risky or exhausting.
Friendship Can Look Different – And That’s Okay
Neurotypical friendships are often built around frequent contact, shared activities, and constant communication. Autistic friendships may look quieter, deeper, or more interest-based.
For example:
A friendship based on gaming, animals, trains, or art may feel far more meaningful than casual chat
Seeing a friend once a month might feel perfect rather than “not enough”
Parallel play or shared silence can feel connecting, not awkward
Difficulties can arise when autistic young people are judged against neurotypical friendship norms, rather than supported to build relationships that suit them.
Romantic Relationships and Sexuality: Curiosity, Vulnerability, and Risk
As autistic young people grow older, romantic and sexual feelings often emerge in the same way they do for neurotypical peers – but navigating them can be more complex.
Autistic young people may:
Take people at their word, increasing vulnerability to exploitation
Miss red flags or struggle to recognise unhealthy dynamics
Find rejection deeply dysregulating
Need explicit teaching around consent, boundaries, and online safety
Feel intense attachment very quickly
Avoiding these conversations doesn’t protect autistic young people – it increases risk. Honest, clear, developmentally appropriate discussions are essential.
How Parents and Professionals Can Help
1. Talk openly – and literally
Avoid euphemisms and assumptions. Clear, direct language helps autistic young people make sense of relationships, consent, and expectations.
2. Validate difference, not deficit
Instead of trying to make relationships look “normal”, support young people to understand their preferences, needs, and limits.
3. Teach boundaries explicitly
Boundaries don’t come naturally to everyone. They often need to be taught, practised, and revisited – for both physical and emotional relationships.
4. Support regulation around relationships
Friendship and romance can be incredibly dysregulating. Helping young people understand their nervous system responses (anxiety, shutdown, overwhelm) is just as important as social skills.
5. Be curious, not panicked
If a young person shows intense feelings, withdraws socially, or becomes fixated on someone, curiosity and support are far more helpful than alarm or control.
A Final Thought for Valentine’s Day
Love, connection, and belonging are human needs – but they don’t come in one shape.
For autistic young people, relationships may be slower, quieter, more intense, more fragile or beautifully unique. Our role isn’t to force them into neurotypical moulds – it’s to help them understand themselves, stay safe, and build connections that genuinely work for them.
And that, Valentine’s Day or not, is something worth supporting all year round!
The power of No
Many of us discover our own neurotype while trying to understand and support our children. For me, that discovery came alongside peri-menopause. At the same time all the coping mechanisms I’d carefully stashed away to help me function in a world that doesn’t always feel comfortable suddenly fell away.
It felt like accidentally walking under a waterfall I didn’t know was there with nothing to keep me dry. Bonus points if you’re also parenting neurodivergent children going through puberty (oh, how Mother Nature laughs at us).
I’ve been lucky. My children have taught me so much about myself that I don’t think I would ever have realised without them. I have never regretted learning how my brain works and how to gently reframe things to help me grow.
One of the things I’ve learned is that I have Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD). In simple terms, this means my brain can interpret very small things as total rejection, instantly and convincingly. Not being included in an event can become, “they don’t like me.” Not being asked to be in a photo on a night out can become “I’m not important in this group.”
Many neurodivergent people experience RSD. And, as with so many things, understanding what my brain is doing has helped. I can now notice those thoughts, recognise them for what they are, and gently move past them. Everyone does not hate me — that is my nervous system trying to protect me by scanning for threat. Alongside this, I have a strong desire to make others happy and fix things for them — classic people pleasing. For a long time, I put everyone else’s needs before my own — not just close friends and family, but pretty much anyone. I still care deeply about people feeling safe and supported by me, whether we’ve met once or known each other for years. What’s changed is that I no longer do this to my own detriment.
I used to believe that if I said no, I would be letting people down. That they wouldn’t like me. That I’d end up with no friends. I’ve hit burnout many times because of this. When I had children and they needed me more than strangers did, I realised I had to become more boundaried and protect my resources.
I still find saying no difficult. But I now know it’s okay.
I can say:
No, sorry, I need an evening at home.
No, sorry, I’ll be too tired.
Reducing what I commit to has also meant I let people down far less, because I’m not constantly over-stretching or double-booking myself (most of the time).
The real point of this blog is simple: it is okay to say no.
If a professional suggests a visit time that doesn’t work, it is okay to say, “That doesn’t work for me.”
I got caught out by this repeatedly with my daughter’s school. When the SENCo asked for meetings, I’d often say something like, “It’s difficult because I’ll have just finished an overnight, but if there’s no other option I can make it work.” What she heard was yes — and that’s fair, because that’s what I’d said.
What I actually needed to say was no.
Another time would almost certainly have been offered. It might not have been the SENCo’s preferred time, but it would have been one that worked for both of us. Instead, this pattern created tension. I felt unheard, and I was often tired, less patient, and more abrupt in those meetings. When I’m rested, I’m far more measured and thoughtful in how I communicate.
The SENCo was responding to my words. I was being vague. No is not vague.
It’s also okay to give yourself space before committing. Saying something like, “I just need to check my calendar before I confirm,” is a complete sentence. It allows you to check whether something genuinely works for you — not just whether you can force yourself to endure it.
Where saying yes props up broken systems
I’ve also seen the cost of not saying no from the other side — as a social worker. When I worked in an assessment team, I regularly held more families than others. We had allocation meetings where managers would outline new referrals and ask who had capacity. When no one volunteered — and people said they didn’t have space — I would often say I could take it.
My assumption was that everyone else was being honest. That they were as stretched as I was, also working beyond capacity. And at the end of the day, this was a family who needed help. Someone had to do it. So that someone was usually me.
I worked long hours, many unpaid. I didn’t take proper breaks. I carried constant stress — not just from the complexity and emotional weight of the work, but from the relentless pressure of meeting timescales with an impossible workload.
What I later realised was that not everyone was working with the same mindset — and that work was not being fairly distributed.
Yes, there were clear flaws in the allocation system. Realistically, allocations should have been made by managers to workers with the right skill set and the capacity. But I can now see that my goodwill and strong work ethic were quietly exploited. I didn’t advocate for myself. I should have said no.
And this matters — because when professionals say yes and absorb the pressure, the system appears to function. Targets are met. Waiting lists move. On paper, things look manageable. But the cost is carried by the individual.
When we work unpaid hours, skip breaks, and push through exhaustion, we mask the problem. The system flows, and the worker suffers. Services are not held accountable because the shortfall is hidden.
Sometimes systems have to fail to show that they need support. Funding and staffing are not increased unless need is clearly demonstrated. I know budgets are tight. I know local authorities are under enormous financial strain, with deficits and debts under constant scrutiny. But we are not individually responsible for holding broken systems together at the expense of our health.
Saying no is not a failure of professionalism.
It is professional integrity.
For parents and professionals alike
I’ve seen parents who push themselves at work because of RSD, people-pleasing, or a desire to be “seen as reliable,” only to be undervalued or taken advantage of. Sometimes their line manager focuses solely on their need to reduce hours, work flexibly, or leave at short notice because of their child’s needs — without recognising the enormous value and contribution they are already making.
This is exactly why saying no is so important. It protects your energy, your wellbeing, and your ability to engage meaningfully — at home, at work, and in the wider system.
Here’s what this really comes down to:
· When we say yes when we shouldn’t, the system looks like it’s working but it isn’t.
· Over-functioning individuals prop up under resourced systems.
· Goodwill masks failure.
· Burnout is not a personal flaw, it’s often evidence of systemic misuse.
· If we never say no, nothing ever changes.
Saying no protects your capacity, your sanity, and the quality of your contribution. It allows systems to be held accountable and gives space for real change to happen — for individuals and for families alike.
Saying no isn’t selfish.
It’s ethical.
And sometimes, it’s the most caring thing you can do.
Children’s book recommendations
Here are some books that are great for children and either include neurodivergent characters or have an neurodivergent theme.
*as ever, none of these are sponsored, just books we love!
When schools get it right
Among the stories of school battles and unmet needs, I wanted to share something different – the moments across their different schools (infant, Junior and Secondary) got it right for my autistic child. These aren’t grand expensive interventions, just thoughtful consistent actions.
Pre-diagnosis and recognising their social struggles, giving them a clipboard at breaktime with a quiz on it to give them a focus.
Giving them a “job” to help listen to the younger children read before school. They felt important and needed and it helped boost their confidence.
The teacher taking time to check in that they understood a task after setting it to the class, not assuming they did as they stayed quiet.
The young maths teacher who hands out blu-tac to children at the start of each lesson so that they have something to fidget with.
The member of staff who when they were being bullied casually asked them at lunch “do you want to stay with me this lunchtime?”
The same member of staff (who taught them in a previous year) who makes a point of patiently stopping and chatting to them each day, bantering with them and making them laugh each day.
Their art teacher who knowing they were going through a tough time asked if they wanted to go to the art room at lunchtime where the older GCSE students (two of whom were their friends) were allowed to be at lunch.
Movement breaks.
Uniform infractions are ignored! That their blazer is not always on is ignored.
That trampolining in PE is their idea of hell is understood. They aren’t made to do it.
In Spanish, they won’t speak out loud in that language in front of the class. That’s understood and any oral tests are done in private.
Teachers don’t “cold call” them and put them on the spot in a lesson.
In Science, the lovely teacher writes notes back and forth to them if they are upset. They feel safe writing it down rather than it being overheard by other students.
Rather than being made to go outside at breaktimes, they and their friend are allowed to walk the school corridors allowing them quiet and space to regulate.
They are never told off for being late to school or class.
Every member of staff in the school knows their name (in a good way I hope!) and they all say “good morning”, “lovely to see you”, fist pump them and made them feel valued and welcomed in the school.
No school is perfect, and no child’s journey is without bumps along the way. But, along the way there are moments where staff really saw them. Not just the struggles but their spark. Those moments make them feel safe, understood and genuinely cared for. And they are worth shining a light on. Its also these little acts of understanding and kindness that balance out the more difficult aspects of being at school and help build their resilience. To get all Socialworky, the protective factors for them at school. And for this I am endlessly grateful.
National Resources List
National Autistic Society – Professional Resources
Guidance for professionals working with autistic children and adults
Toolkits, training resources, and research briefings
🌐 https://www.autism.org.uk/professionals
ADHD Foundation – Professional Resources
ND-informed training, webinars, and consultancy for schools, social care, health and workplaces
Evidence-based practice guides
🌐 https://www.adhdfoundation.org.uk/professionals
Ambitious about Autism – Professional Guidance
Best practice guides for education, transitions, social care
Research summaries and resources for multi-agency teams
🌐 https://www.ambitiousaboutautism.org.uk/professionals
Contact (formerly Contact a Family) – Professional Support
Resources on disability rights, benefits, social care law, and family support
Toolkits for working with parents and carers
🌐 https://contact.org.uk/professionals
Council for Disabled Children (CDC)
National umbrella organisation for children with special educational needs and disabilities (SEND)
Evidence-based guidance for professionals and local authorities
🌐 https://councilfordisabledchildren.org.uk
The British Dyslexia Association – Professional Advice
Guidance for schools, social care, and health teams on supporting dyslexic children
Training resources and evidence-based practice tools
🌐 https://www.bdadyslexia.org.uk/professionals
Dyspraxia Foundation – Professional Resources
ND-informed guidance and professional training for dyspraxia support in children and adults
🌐 https://dyspraxiafoundation.org.uk/professionals
Mental Health & Crisis Support Guidance for Professionals
PAPYRUS – HOPELINE247
Guidance on supporting children and young people at risk of suicide
Advice for professionals on safeguarding, referrals, and crisis management
🌐 https://www.papyrus-uk.org
Samaritans – Professional Guidance
Resources for professionals supporting those in distress or at risk
🌐 https://www.samaritans.org/professionals
Mind – Workplace & Professional Resources
Mental health information, training and toolkits for supporting families and staff
🌐 https://www.mind.org.uk
Additional Professional Support & Networks
Neurodiversity UK – Professional Network
Peer network, events and ND-informed practice resources
🌐 https://neurodiversityuk.co.uk
Autism Central – Professional Directory & Resources
National database of services and guidance for professionals
🌐 https://www.autismcentral.org.uk
Emotional Wellbeing & Crisis Support (UK-Wide)
Available to children, young people and adults
PAPYRUS – HOPELINE247
(For children and young people under 35)
📞 0800 068 4141
📱 Text 07860 039967
🕒 24/7 support
Confidential support for young people experiencing suicidal thoughts
Advice and support for parents and carers
🌐 https://www.papyrus-uk.org
Shout – Text Support
📱 Text SHOUT to 85258
🕒 24/7
Free, confidential text support for anyone in emotional distress
🌐 https://www.giveusashout.org
Samaritans
📞 116 123
🕒 24/7
Emotional support for anyone struggling or feeling overwhelmed
🌐 https://www.samaritans.org
Childline
(For children and young people under 19)
📞 0800 1111
🕒 24/7
Confidential counselling by phone or online chat
🌐 https://www.childline.org.uk
NHS Urgent Mental Health Support
📞 NHS 111 → Option 2
Immediate mental health support for all ages
🌐 https://www.nhs.uk
📚 Further Information & Signposting
Autism Central
National autism information hub and directory
🌐 https://www.autismcentral.org.uk
Afasic
Support for speech, language and communication needs
🌐 https://www.afasic.org.uk
UK Police Neurodiversity / Autism Alert Card Schemes (2026)
How this works:
Most UK police forces offer alert cards or similar communication aids so officers can recognise and respond more appropriately to neurodivergent people (often autism, communication needs, sensory differences).
National Police Autism Association
National & Multi-Force Schemes
Tri-Force Autism Alert Card (London)
For: Metropolitan Police, City of London Police & British Transport Police
Description: Autism alert card & passport identifying autism and communication needs.
Access: Email autism@met.police.uk to request/apply.
National Police Autism Association
Regional / Force Schemes (England & Wales)
Anglia (Essex, Suffolk, Norfolk, Cambridgeshire, Hertfordshire & Bedfordshire)
Scheme: Autism Alert Card (Autism Anglia)
Description: Card to show police/emergency services that holder is autistic and may need support.
Apply: 🖥️ https://www.autism-anglia.org.uk/our-services/autism-alert-card/
Autism Anglia
Thames Valley (Berkshire, Buckinghamshire, Oxfordshire, Milton Keynes)
Scheme: Thames Valley Autism Alert Card
Description: Free card to explain autism and communication needs to officers or other responders.
Apply: 🖥️ https://www.autismberkshire.org.uk/thames-valley-autism-alert-card/ �
Autism Berkshire
West / Central England (Staffordshire, West Midlands, West Mercia, Warwickshire & British Transport Police)
Scheme: Autism Alert Card (regional)
Description: Credit-card style autism alert card recognised by local forces; includes emergency contact details.
Apply: Online form via your local force (e.g., Staffordshire Police).
Humberside Police
Scheme: Neurodiversity Alert Card
Description: Card to communicate neurodivergent needs (eg autism) to officers; includes space for contacts and personal info.
Obtain: Free from local police stations or download.
South Yorkshire Police
Scheme: Autism Alert / Learning Disability / Mental Health Alert Cards
Description: Free cards to help police and emergency services understand specific needs and how to communicate effectively.
Apply: See South Yorkshire Police alert card downloads page.
South Yorkshire Police
Leeds (West Yorkshire Police)
Scheme: Leeds Autism Alert Card
Description: Coproduced card to help communicate autism needs (name, communication preferences, emergency contact).
Apply: 🖥️ https://leedsautismaim.org.uk/resources/leeds-autism-alert-card/
Leeds Autism AIM
Other / Multi-Force Supportive Schemes
Pegasus Card
For: Nottinghamshire, Lincolnshire, City of London, Surrey, Sussex, Bedfordshire, Hertfordshire & Cambridgeshire
Description: PIN-based stored info system for emergency calls; card allows services to access preferences nationally.
Access: Contact your local force for registration details.
E-Card (Lancashire & Greater Manchester)
For: Lancashire Constabulary & Greater Manchester Police
Description: Emergency info card supporting communication needs in crisis/emergency situations.
Access: Request via local force or NHS/community services.
Keep Safe Cymru Card (South Wales)
For: South Wales Police
Description: Vulnerability ID card (learning disability, communication needs, autism) to support interactions with police/emergency staff.
Access: Via South Wales Police / Keep Safe Cymru partners.
Helpful Resources
👉 NPAA Full UK Force Alert Card List (click your local force for details):
🖥️ https://www.npaa.org.uk/alert-card-schemes/
National Police Autism Association
Being a professional and a SEN parent
Knowledge does not protect you from trauma when it’s your own child.
I was a social worker long before I became a parent. I worked with hundreds of children and families, professional networks and family courts under all kinds of different circumstances. I knew so much about attachment and child development and how these can be affected by different childhood experiences.
But, in the early days of my career, neurodivergence wasn’t something we were trained to look out for let alone support people with. How I’d love to turn the clock and be back in the living room of so many parents and give them better advice and guidance. I’m sharing this because I have been ‘that professional’ who doesn’t get it. But I DID care. And when awareness and research started to improve, I embraced this and adapted my practice accordingly.
My two children are both autistic and yet they couldn’t be more different. My daughter also has other associated conditions and requires a lot more support both at home and at school.
Around the same time my son was diagnosed as Autistic at age 10, my daughter who is 3 years younger than him, hit burnout. Overnight my happy bouncy sparkly girl deteriorated before our eyes and I hadn’t seen it coming because her neurodivergence didn’t present the same as her brother’s - shocker right?!
However, because of my job, and because I was lucky enough to have professional friends, I was able to quickly recognise what was happening. Then very soon after, Emotionally based school avoidance (EBSA) hit.
As a professional, I could articulate what was going on. And I did. I put everything in writing and kept paper trails. I accessed every resource I could to get my daughter’s needs diagnosed and supported. But, being her mum, what I couldn’t have been prepared for was the emotional toll. The shock of seeing my child suffer so significantly floored me. I had to learn how to care for my own mental health through this crisis.
About a year later it was apparent that my daughter would need an EHCP to be able to access enough support for her to remain in education. You would think that being a professional would make it easier to navigate the EHCP process wouldn’t you? It didn’t.
In fact, it made it worse. Because I wasn’t a professional in my daughter’s world. I was ‘just mum.’ I won’t go into the ins and outs of our EHCP journey but to many, it would be all too familiar. The frustration I have felt at times has driven me to despair. Because I knew what was supposed to happen, I knew what my daughter needed and I followed every due process but too often found myself forced to fight for the right outcome. I am writing this in past tense but as fellow SEND parents know, there may be milestones but there is no finish line.
That said, I have made allies along the way which has made it all easier than it would have been otherwise. Once my daughter’s school understood the gravity of what she was going through they really got on board and have bent over backwards to help her and also help get the right provisions secured in her EHCP. I enlisted an incredible advocate who has taught me so much and given me the confidence to shout from the rooftops for my child’s legal rights.
So, what I’m saying is that if you are a professional, whether that be a social worker, teacher, mental health professional or health care worker, and find yourself navigating SEND parenthood, I get it. It’s conflicting, infuriating and empowering all at the same time. And it doesn’t matter how qualified you are; knowledge doesn’t protect you from trauma when it’s your own child!
And it’s absolutely ok to feel every emotion and seek any support you need to look after you. You must put your own oxygen mask on first in order to keep doing what you need to do for your child.