The bad and your parenting journey

Building Partnerships to Support Our Most Vulnerable: Meeting with a Prematurity Charity Today

By Laura Johnstone

Today feels like a really important day. I’m meeting with a prematurity charity that I’ve supported and admired for a long time. It’s one of those moments where everything you’ve been through—personally and as a parent—starts to come full circle. I’m meeting with them to explore how we can support each other, and more importantly, how together we can support more families.

As many of you know, I’ve launched a new initiative called Pumping for Preemies, which is deeply personal to me. I’ve lived the chaos and the fragility of NICU life. I know the fear, the exhaustion, and the overwhelming sense of not knowing how to help your baby when they arrive far too early. One of the few things you can do is provide breastmilk. But what happens when expressing milk is difficult? Or when a mum is recovering from a traumatic birth or dealing with her own medical complications? That’s where support—and access to donor milk—becomes vital.

That’s why I’m also starting to work on a campaign to promote breastmilk donation for premature babies. There are so many incredible people out there willing to donate, and yet there’s a gap between need and access. For the tiniest, most vulnerable babies, donor milk can literally be life-saving.

This meeting today is more than just a chat. It’s about creating change, building bridges between lived experience and practical support. I believe that by partnering with like-minded organisations, we can make a real difference. Whether it’s raising awareness about the importance of breastmilk for premature babies, advocating for more accessible milk banks, or providing emotional support for parents who are expressing around the clock—it all matters.

And for those of you who’ve been following my journey, you’ll know this is also about honouring my daughter Amelia’s early start in life. Her strength is my fuel. Every time I speak up, share, or advocate, it’s with her in mind—and for every other baby and parent still in that neonatal world.

So today, I go into this meeting with hope. Hope that by sharing ideas, by collaborating, we can grow something powerful. Because together, we can build a more compassionate, supportive system for parents of premature babies.

If you’ve ever expressed milk, donated, or benefited from donor milk, I’d love to hear your story. Sharing these experiences helps break down stigma and shine a light on just how important this is.

Let’s keep the conversation going—please like, comment, and subscribe to my blog to stay updated on the Pumping for Preemies campaign and more ways we can support each other.

References & Further Reading:

NHS: Human Milk Banking BLISS: Breastfeeding and Expressing UKAMB – The UK Association for Milk Banking

When Eating Out Feels Like a Risk – and Finding a Safe Haven in Worthing

For anyone living with allergies, or parenting a child with food allergies or Coeliac disease, eating out can be one of the most stressful experiences. It’s meant to be something joyful — a treat, a break, a chance to connect — but instead, it often becomes a minefield.

I’ve lost count of the times I’ve told a restaurant I need gluten-free because of a medical condition, only to feel dismissed, misunderstood, or worse — become unwell.

Why I Say “Allergy” Instead of “Coeliac Disease”

Here’s the honest truth: I often say I have a gluten allergy even though I actually have Coeliac disease. Why? Because allergies seem to be taken more seriously than Coeliac. And yet, with some food allergies, there are emergency medications like antihistamines or EpiPens. But with Coeliac disease? There’s no medication. Even the tiniest crumb of gluten can trigger a violent reaction — and not just for a few hours. For me, the symptoms last for weeks. The first few hours are agony: intense nausea, stomach pain, and immediate trips to the bathroom. But the exhaustion, brain fog, and inflammation continue long after.

What’s heartbreaking is that people often assume gluten-free is just a trendy lifestyle choice, which has added stigma to those of us for whom it’s a lifelong, non-negotiable medical condition.

The Guilt and the Stigma

There’s also a deep emotional toll that comes with eating out when you or your child have dietary needs. You begin to feel like a burden. Some places make you feel as though you’re asking for the world when all you want is to eat safely. You apologise for yourself before you’ve even ordered. You watch others enjoy their meals while you silently pray your plate won’t make you sick.

But Then… You Find That Place

Last year, we found a lovely local place. It was fantastic with allergies — and for a while, it became the place we felt safe in. Then things changed. Staff left, new processes came in, and suddenly, the anxiety crept back in.

But more recently, we were introduced to Munch in Worthing. And honestly, it’s changed everything.

One of the owners has a dairy allergy herself, so she gets it. Really gets it. I don’t have to explain every detail or justify our needs. My daughter has a dairy allergy, and I’m Coeliac — and never once have we been made to feel like an inconvenience there. The moment we walk in, it feels like that iconic scene from Cheers — “where everybody knows your name.”

They remember us. They remember Amelia’s allergy. They remember what I like. And they don’t just accommodate us — they care. The staff don’t see us as customers, they treat us like friends. And when someone remembers your allergies without you needing to say a word, offers a special dish they’ve made that’s safe for you, and makes you feel like you belong — that is rare. That is gold.

Why This Matters

We don’t often think about how isolating it can be for families managing multiple allergies and neurodiversity. It’s not just about the food — it’s about safety, trust, and inclusion. Places like Munch are more than cafés — they are havens for families like mine.

So here’s to the places that get it. That really get it.

And if you’re in or near Worthing and have dietary needs — or just want to be somewhere that welcomes you like an old friend — give Munch a visit. I promise, you won’t feel like a burden there.

Have you found a safe haven for eating out with allergies or Coeliac disease? I’d love to hear about it. Leave a comment, like, or subscribe to stay connected with more honest stories from parenting, neurodiversity, and family life.

References and Resources:

Coeliac UK – What is Coeliac Disease? Allergy UK – Managing Food Allergies When Eating Out NHS – Food Allergy Overview Anaphylaxis UK – Eating Out Safely

What is your favorite restaurant?

Do You Have a 10-Year Plan? Why Mine Changed (And Why That’s Okay)

When I was eight years old, I had a clear 10-year plan: I wanted to become a nurse. By the time I turned 17, I left school to begin an NVQ in Care, stepping confidently in the direction of that childhood dream. I was focused, determined, and thought I knew exactly what my future looked like.

But at 19, everything changed. I realised that nursing wasn’t the right fit for me. I shifted gears and enrolled in a beauty therapy course. While at college, Steiner Transocean Limited visited and opened up a whole new world. I knew, then and there, that working on cruise ships was what I wanted. And I did it—I spent three years working abroad before coming home and embarking on an entirely different path: I trained to become a podiatrist and graduated 10 years ago.

If you had asked me back then what my next 10 years would look like, I would have told you I wanted to work for the World Health Organization, focusing on diabetes care. That was the vision. The structured, well-planned, “grown-up” dream.

But then life happened.

In the past six years, I have survived sepsis, lived through a global pandemic, and experienced the deep isolation and depression that often follow giving birth prematurely. I became a mother. I became an advocate. I became someone who saw the world through different eyes.

It’s not that my earlier dreams weren’t valid—they were simply stepping stones to where I was really meant to be.

Since having my daughter, Amelia, I’ve found a new purpose. One born from lived experience and deep empathy. I want to help neurodivergent families and parents of premature babies not just survive—but thrive. I want to make sure they feel seen, heard, and supported.

I’m now pouring my heart into my newest campaign: raising awareness about the life-saving importance of donor milk for premature babies. And I’m using my voice, my writing, and my experiences to build a platform where parents can come to feel less alone.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned as I approach my mid-40s, it’s this: a 10-year plan is all well and good, but sometimes life invites us to pivot. During the pandemic, we heard the word “pivot” a lot—and for good reason. Sometimes the greatest growth comes from surrendering the plan and following your heart instead.

When I was teaching about sepsis, I knew I was making a difference. But I also found myself anxious, overwhelmed, and caught in the clutches of PTSD. Human design taught me something powerful—especially as a Manifesting Generator: I am meant to do what lights me up. What brings me joy. And what truly brings me joy is helping families feel like they matter.

So wherever I find myself in 10 years, I know one thing will always remain: my why. And that’s to help others.

Are you a parent navigating the unexpected? Feeling lost or isolated?

You are not alone. Let’s connect, share, and grow together.

If this blog resonated with you, please like, comment, and subscribe. Let’s build a community where all families feel seen.

References:

NHS (2024). Donor Milk and Premature Babies: Why It Matters Bliss Charity (2023). Supporting Premature Babies and Their Families Human Design Collective. (2022). Understanding Manifesting Generators

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

How to Help a Family Member Who Has Depression: A Guide for Parents and Loved Ones

Depression doesn’t just affect the person who is experiencing it – it can have a ripple effect throughout the whole family. If someone you care about is struggling, it’s natural to want to help – but knowing how to do that can feel overwhelming.

Whether you’re a parent juggling the needs of your children, or a neurodivergent family navigating your own challenges, supporting someone with depression can feel like a lot. But your empathy, patience, and understanding can truly make a difference.

In this blog, I’ll share some practical and emotional ways to support a family member who is living with depression – without losing yourself in the process.

1. Understand That Depression Is an Illness – Not a Choice

This is crucial. Depression isn’t laziness or moodiness – it’s a mental health condition that affects thoughts, energy levels, and daily functioning. Avoid phrases like “just snap out of it” or “think positive”. Instead, try to understand that your loved one is doing their best with the energy and hope they have right now.

What to say instead:

“I may not understand exactly how you’re feeling, but I’m here.” “You’re not alone. We’ll get through this together.”

2. Listen Without Trying to Fix It

It can be tempting to jump in with advice or solutions, especially if you’re a practical, empathetic parent who wants to make things better. But depression isn’t something that can be solved quickly. Often, your loved one just needs someone to listen – without judgment, without interruption, and without fixing.

Create space by saying:

“Would you like to talk about how you’re feeling?” “I’m here to listen, not to judge or tell you what to do.”

3. Encourage Them to Seek Professional Help

While your support matters hugely, it’s important that your loved one has access to professional mental health care. Gently encourage them to speak to their GP, a therapist, or a mental health helpline. Offer to go with them if they feel nervous.

You could say:

“There’s no shame in getting support – you deserve to feel better.” “Would it help if I went with you to your appointment?”

4. Keep Checking In – Even If They Don’t Always Reply

Depression often makes people withdraw or push others away. Don’t take it personally if your loved one doesn’t respond straight away. A simple message saying “thinking of you” or “I’m here whenever you need” goes a long way in helping someone feel seen.

5. Be Patient with Their Progress

Recovery from depression isn’t linear. There will be good days and bad days. Celebrate small wins with them, and be understanding when things slip again. Avoid making them feel like they’ve failed if they’re not “back to normal” yet.

Remember: progress isn’t about being perfect – it’s about moving forward, even in tiny steps.

6. Recognise That Pain Can Affect Mental Health Too

Just yesterday, I was speaking with a family member who shared something really powerful. They told me they don’t feel like the person they usually are – all because of an injury that’s left them in pain and unable to sleep. The toll on their mental health has been huge. They’ve lost their sense of identity, their energy, and their usual spark.

I’ve used “they/them” here to protect their privacy – not because they identify with those pronouns, but because I want to share their truth without exposing them. It reminded me just how interconnected physical pain, emotional exhaustion, and depression can be.

So if your loved one is dealing with chronic pain or a sudden injury, be aware that it may also impact their mood, their sleep, and their sense of self.

7. Look After Yourself Too

Supporting someone with depression can be draining – especially if you’re also parenting or managing your own mental health. It’s not selfish to take time for yourself. In fact, you’ll be in a better position to support them if you’re rested and resourced.

Make space for:

Talking to a therapist or trusted friend Doing something that recharges you – even if it’s just a 10-minute walk

8. Remove the Stigma – Talk Openly About Mental Health

Many families, especially those affected by trauma, neurodiversity, or generational silence, carry shame around mental health. One of the most healing things you can do is to be open. Normalise talking about therapy, low moods, and asking for help.

When children grow up in households that speak openly about emotions, they are more likely to seek help in future too.

Final Thoughts

Helping a loved one with depression can be a slow, emotional journey. But your support – your presence, your patience, and your love – can be a lifeline. You don’t need to have all the answers. Just being there is powerful.

If you’re walking this road with someone you love, know that you are not alone. Support is out there for you, too.

If this blog resonated with you, please like, share and subscribe to The Good, The Bad, and Your Parenting Journey. Your support helps me reach more families who need to know they’re not alone.

References & Resources

Mind UK. (2024). How to support someone with depression. www.mind.org.uk NHS. (2024). Depression Overview. www.nhs.uk YoungMinds. (2024). Talking to your child about mental health. www.youngminds.org.uk Samaritans. (Available 24/7): Call 116 123 or visit www.samaritans.org

When School Wasn’t the Best Time of Your Life: A Reflection for Neurodivergent Parents and Their Children

“School is the best time of your life.”

How many times have we heard that? It’s said so casually, like it’s a universal truth. But for so many of us—especially those who are neurodivergent, different, or just didn’t fit into the expected mould—school was anything but the best time. It was painful. It was lonely. It was confusing.

For me, school wasn’t a time of joyful memories and carefree friendships. It was a time when I was bullied and misunderstood—and I never told anyone. I didn’t have the words back then. I just buried it and got on with life the best I could.

It wasn’t until I was about 19 that it all finally came out. I was on the phone in the kitchen with a friend I’d made after school. She mentioned she’d been bullied, and it opened something up in me. I started talking—really talking—about what I’d been through.

And this was back in the days of house phones, the ones attached to the wall. We only had two phones in the house, and of course, my mum was nearby and heard everything.

After I got off the phone, she came into the kitchen. She asked gently,

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

I froze. I said, “No.”

And then she looked at me and said, “Laura, I heard you.”

I broke down.

That moment has stayed with me. Not just because I finally let the truth out—but because my mum had no idea. All those years, I carried it alone. And that’s why, as a mum now, I’m going to make sure that I always encourage Amelia to tell me what’s going on. Because carrying that pain on your own? It’s not fun. It’s heavy. And no child should have to do that alone.

Why the Best Years Come Later

I’ve come to realise that the kids who “peak” in school often struggle later, because they never had to figure out who they really are. But those of us who were misunderstood or made to feel small? We become strong. We become self-aware. We learn to embrace the parts of ourselves we were once taught to hide.

The big lesson I’ve learned is this: being yourself is the bravest thing you can do.

When you stop masking, when you start embracing your own uniqueness—you attract people who get you. You find your people. And often, it happens much later than school… but it does happen. And it’s beautiful.

From That Child to This Parent

Now that I’m a parent, I see all of this through a different lens. I look at my daughter Amelia, and I think of the child I once was—how hard I tried to fit in, how much I hid.

But Amelia will grow up in a house where her voice is heard. Where her feelings matter. Where she’s not told to “just get on with it.” I want her to know that she can come to me with anything, big or small. Because I know how it feels when you think you can’t.

You’re Not Alone—And Neither Are They

If your child is struggling at school, if they seem like they’re withdrawing or masking to survive—please know it’s not a reflection of failure. It’s a sign they’re trying to cope. It’s a sign they need you to see them. And sometimes, they won’t tell you right away. But that doesn’t mean we stop showing up.

Keep the conversation open. Create space for honesty. Let them know that they don’t have to be perfect—they just have to be them.

The best time of their life doesn’t have to be school. In fact, the best is very likely still to come.

Call to Action:

Did you experience something similar in school? Are you raising a child who’s finding it tough to fit in? I’d love to hear your story. Let’s support one another. Please share this post, leave a comment below, and subscribe to The Good, The Bad, and Your Parenting Journey for more honest stories from the heart of parenthood.

References & Further Reading:

• National Autistic Society – www.autism.org.uk

• YoungMinds: Supporting neurodivergent children in education – www.youngminds.org.uk

• ADHD Foundation – www.adhdfoundation.org.uk

Describe something you learned in high school.

One Thing a Day: How Daily Joy, Passion, and Consistency Are Changing My Life

Every day, I do one thing that grounds me.

One thing that lifts me.

One thing that reminds me who I am.

Some days it’s something small — a cup of tea in peace, a deep breath of fresh air, or a smile from Amelia. Other days, it’s writing this blog.

I’ve written before about the power of gratitude, and honestly, I thought I’d run out of things to say on the subject. But something has shifted. The more I practise noticing the good in each day, the more I realise how much it’s transformed my mindset.

It’s not just about being positive. It’s about choosing to notice the light, even when life feels heavy. It’s about following the joy, and just as importantly, following the passion — that fire inside that says, “This matters. Keep going.”

What I’ve come to learn — especially as a mum, and especially as a mum of a premature baby — is that these small actions are powerful. They help me feel steady. They help me feel me. And most importantly, they help me show Amelia what it looks like to keep going, one day at a time.

Because every day, I write a blog.

Every day, I show up.

And every day, I follow the joy and the passion — even if it’s only in a small way.

It’s not about perfection. It’s not about having it all figured out.

It’s about showing Amelia the power of consistency. The importance of doing something because it matters — even if no one else sees it.

This practice of “one thing a day” is my way of planting seeds. For her. For me. For all of us who are trying to raise strong, kind, emotionally aware children while still learning how to be those things ourselves.

So today, I ask you — what is one thing you have done today that’s a positive?

It doesn’t have to be big. It just has to be yours.

Because when we notice the small good things, and when we follow what brings us joy and sparks our passion, we begin to build a life that feels more meaningful. More aligned. More full.

And that? That’s the kind of legacy I want to leave.

Call to Action:

If this resonated with you, please like, subscribe, or share with someone who might need a little encouragement today. Let’s grow a community rooted in joy, passion, and the power of one small step a day.

References / Inspired by:

• Brown, B. (2012). The Power of Vulnerability.

• Seligman, M.E.P. (2004). Authentic Happiness.

• NHS. (2023). Mindfulness and Mental Health.

• The Good, The Bad, and Your Parenting Journey Blog Archives.

Describe one positive change you have made in your life.

The Unexpected Workout: Keeping Up with a Two-Year-Old

Let’s talk about exercise today—but not the kind that comes with Lycra, gym memberships, or protein shakes. No, today I’m talking about the kind of exercise many parents of toddlers will know all too well: chasing after your very energetic child!

Right now, my main form of exercise is keeping up with Amelia. And let me tell you, she does not stop. She’s on the go from morning till night, and if you’ve ever met a determined two-year-old with boundless energy, you’ll know exactly what I mean.

Whether it’s running to stop her climbing something (again), catching her before she disappears into another room (again), or dancing around the kitchen to distract her during a meltdown (again), I am constantly moving. It’s not your typical “workout”—but I’m sweating, my muscles ache, and I’ve even lost weight from it!

This kind of daily physical activity isn’t just exhausting—it’s real exercise. Parenthood can be incredibly physically demanding, especially when you’re raising a toddler like Amelia who could give an Olympic athlete a run for their money.

For any other parent out there who’s wondering why they’re so tired at the end of the day, take a moment and give yourself credit. You are exercising. You’re lifting, bending, running, carrying, and staying on high alert for hours on end. And while it might not feel like a traditional fitness routine, it’s one of the most demanding—and rewarding—workouts there is.

So here’s to all the parents out there who are clocking up steps and burning calories just by loving and looking after their little ones. You’re doing more than enough.

Call to Action:

If you can relate to this kind of parenting workout, I’d love to hear your stories! Drop a comment below, and don’t forget to like and subscribe for more honest posts about the ups and downs of parenting. Let’s support each other—because raising tiny humans is no small feat.

What’s the most fun way to exercise?

How to Look After Your Child When You’re Unwell: Lessons from the House of the Lurgy

Last week, our home turned into what I can only describe as the house of the lurgy. I went down with a nasty sickness bug and could barely function — and just as I was starting to feel a little bit more human, my daughter got it too. Then, to top it all off, my husband was hit with it by Friday.

As a parent, nothing prepares you for the guilt of passing an illness on to your child. I wished I could take it back, be sick for longer — anything but see her go through it. Even now, a week later, she’s still a bit lethargic, and it makes my heart ache.

When Your Child Gets Ill After You

Looking after your child when you’re ill is hard. Looking after them when they then fall ill too — that’s a different level entirely. On Wednesday, we ended up in urgent care. The team assessed her for sepsis, and my heart dropped. As someone who has had sepsis myself, it’s a word I can never hear lightly. The fear is instant.

What to Look Out For: Sepsis Signs in Babies and Young Children

When your child is unwell, especially with vomiting, fever, or extreme tiredness, it’s important to keep an eye out for signs that could indicate something more serious. According to the NHS and the UK Sepsis Trust, signs of sepsis in children and babies include:

• Breathing very fast or struggling to breathe

• A seizure or fit

• Blotchy, pale, or blue-tinged skin, lips, or tongue

• A rash that doesn’t fade when pressed

• Very high or very low temperature (or feeling abnormally cold to touch)

• Sleepiness, difficult to wake, or confusion

• Not feeding or eating as usual

• Vomiting repeatedly

• No wet nappies for 12 hours or more

That last point – no wet nappies – is one we were explicitly told to monitor. A dry nappy for 12 hours or more could be a sign that your child is severely dehydrated, which is especially dangerous when paired with other symptoms and can be a red flag for sepsis in infants.

In our case, her temperature was spiking and she was so floppy and sleepy — it brought everything back from when she was in the NICU. That same pit-of-your-stomach fear and helplessness.

Keeping Them Hydrated: A Simple Trick That Helped

Hydration was a huge focus for us. One of the few things that helped was using a Calpol syringe — the kind that comes in the bottle — to gently squirt small amounts of water into her mouth every few minutes. It kept her hydrated without overwhelming her, especially when she wasn’t up for sipping from a cup.

It’s not fancy, but it worked — and sometimes, that’s all you need.

When Illness Triggers Past Trauma

Being back in hospital with her, even briefly, triggered memories of the NICU. But this time, something was different. When she had hand, foot and mouth, it had brought up deep PTSD responses and suppressed feelings. I’ve done a lot of work to process those, and this time, I was able to stay present — even though I still felt helpless, holding her in my lap while they examined her.

When your child is unwell, you don’t just know you love them — you feel it in your bones. It’s raw and overwhelming. It takes you back to every moment you’ve ever feared losing them. It’s a fierce kind of love.

Looking After Your Child When You’re Unwell

So how do we survive the house of the lurgy as parents? Here’s what helped us:

1. Do what you can — and forgive yourself for what you can’t

I didn’t manage to sanitise every surface. I didn’t make perfectly balanced meals. But I got her through it, and I loved her through it. That’s what counts.

2. Accept help

If someone offers — say yes. Whether it’s a neighbour picking up Calpol, or your partner taking over bedtime, you deserve support.

3. Hydration over perfection

The Calpol syringe trick got us through. It’s okay if it’s messy. Small sips, regularly, are more important than anything.

4. Trust your gut

You know your child best. If something doesn’t feel right — act. It’s always okay to ask a healthcare professional for advice.

5. Acknowledge the emotional toll

Illness doesn’t just affect our bodies — it affects our hearts and minds. If you’ve experienced trauma or NICU memories, be gentle with yourself. You’re allowed to feel triggered. You’re not alone.

You’re Not Alone

If you’re reading this from your own sickbed while your toddler sneezes on you for the 40th time, please know this — you are doing an incredible job.

Parenting through illness is one of the toughest things we face. Especially if you’re neurodivergent or have past medical trauma — the emotional load is massive. But you are not failing. You are surviving. You are loving them through it.

If this blog resonated with you, please like and subscribe.

Join me on [Instagram/Facebook/Your Links] for more honest chats about parenting, premature babies, trauma recovery, and neurodivergent life. You don’t have to do this alone — The Good, The Bad, and Your Parenting Journey is here to walk with you.

References:

• NHS: Sepsis in Children – https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/sepsis/

• UK Sepsis Trust – https://sepsistrust.org

Falling Back in Love with Learning: How Self-Development Books Reignited My Spark

I’ve always loved a good book—whether I’m curled up with a paperback or walking around with an audiobook in my ears. But what I didn’t realise until recently is how much I crave learning. Not just reading for pleasure (though that’s still very much part of my life), but the kind of learning that lights you up from the inside out. That deep, soul-sparking personal development stuff.

When I used to work on cruise ships, I’d often finish a contract and head straight into some sort of training. At the time, I didn’t really think about why—it just felt good. Like a buzz. I now know it was because learning made me feel alive. It gave me purpose, focus, direction.

But somewhere along the way, I lost that part of myself. Life took over, and learning started to feel like a chore. Like another thing on the to-do list. I forgot how much joy I found in growth. It wasn’t until I started doing deep self-reflection and healing—especially after becoming a mum and navigating trauma—that I realised what was missing.

I’d lost me.

But here’s the beautiful part: I found myself again. Through the pages of books, the voices in my headphones, and the stories of people who dared to dream big and start again. Now, I feel more connected, more excited—and more me—than I have in years.

Yes, I’ll always have a book or two on the go just for the fun of it, but lately, I’ve been drawn to books that fuel my business journey and personal growth. Here are a few that have truly left a mark on me:

Not Just for Mums by Claire Antill – This book has been such a refreshing reminder that motherhood and ambition can exist side by side. It’s honest, empowering, and full of practical gems.

The 6-Minute Entrepreneur – I’ve already listened to this twice. The first time was just to absorb it. Now, I’m listening again, notebook in hand, pausing every few minutes to scribble down ideas.

The 12 Week Year – I’m on my third round of this one! It’s totally transformed how I think about time and productivity.

What’s Your Dream? by Simon Squibb – A recent find, and wow… it really speaks to the part of me that wants to make impact and follow purpose.

Each of these books has helped me refocus and get clearer on the direction I want to take with my business and my life. It’s not just about being productive; it’s about being aligned—with my values, my goals, and the person I want to be.

So, if you’re a fellow parent in your thirties or forties, maybe navigating neurodiversity in your family like we are, and you’ve ever felt like you’ve lost yourself in the chaos—this is your reminder. You’re not alone. And it’s never too late to reconnect with who you are and what lights you up.

What’s the last book that lit you up inside? I’d love to hear your recommendations—drop them in the comments below.

If this blog resonated with you, don’t forget to like, comment and subscribe. Your support helps me reach more parents just like us who are figuring it out one step, one book, and one breakthrough at a time.

References:

Not Just for Mums by Claire Antill

The 6-Minute Entrepreneur by Natalie Scott

The 12 Week Year by Brian P. Moran and Michael Lennington

What’s Your Dream? by Simon Squibb

What book could you read over and over again?

Saturday, She Won – But Today, I’m Celebrating Me Too

When I began blogging every day, I didn’t realise how much it would change me.

What started as a small commitment has become a part of who I am. I recently reached 100 days of daily blogging—a milestone I never imagined hitting. But I didn’t know, when I celebrated day 100, that it would fall on such a deeply emotional and important day for my family.

On Saturday, my beautiful niece turned 21.

She’s one of the most incredible people I know—kind, funny, resilient, full of heart. I wrote a blog that day all about her, and how proud I am of everything she’s becoming. She’s a light in my life.

But today, I want to take a moment to acknowledge something I rarely do.

I’m proud of me, too.

Because when I was younger, I never thought I’d become an author. I never thought I’d be writing content every day or sharing my story publicly. The thought of it would’ve made me laugh—or cry. I didn’t learn to read until I was 13. I struggled massively with dyslexia, and every day at school felt like I was climbing a mountain with no map.

When most kids were in Year 7 to 9, learning about comprehension, essay structure and creative writing—I was in a special-needs class clapping out the syllables in my name.

And that’s not because I wasn’t trying. It was because I hadn’t been given the tools yet. I wasn’t behind because of laziness—I was behind because I was still learning how to learn.

There’s one achievement that still means more to me than almost anything else in my life: my English GCSE.

It might sound small, but it was huge for me. I worked my socks off to get it. And when the results came in, I didn’t jump for joy—I just cried. It wasn’t just relief. It was release. It was the unravelling of years of believing I wasn’t good enough, that I never would be.

Even when I got to university, I was still trying to catch up on those early years. I’d have conversations with friends about their schooling and think, how did they already know all this?

But now, every single time I write a blog, share a story, or help another parent feel seen—I remind myself how far I’ve come.

Limiting beliefs don’t have to be permanent. They lose their power when we decide to speak up, to try anyway, and to rewrite the story. Now, I live by the belief that it’s not about being perfect—it’s about growth. It’s about faith. It’s about showing up and doing it anyway.

So if you’re reading this and wondering if you’ll ever feel “enough”—you already are.

Start messy. Start scared. Start unsure. But please, just start.

You might just look back, like I did on day 100, and realise—you’ve become exactly who younger you was waiting for.

You’ve already won.

If this blog resonated with you, please like, share, or subscribe. Let’s keep growing together—because your journey matters.

References:

• Growth Mindset Theory, Dr Carol Dweck

• British Dyslexia Association – http://www.bdadyslexia.org.uk

• GCSE Success Stories, National Literacy Trust – http://www.literacytrust.org.uk

• Daily Writing for Mental Health, Psychology Today