The bad and your parenting journey

The Power of Family Support: When You Can’t Do It Alone

Today was a big day. Amelia had a blood test—but this time, it was taken from her hand instead of her elbow. They couldn’t do it yesterday, and honestly, I’m glad they waited. Because yesterday? Yesterday I completely fell apart.

I had a full-blown panic attack and passed out in the waiting room. The heat didn’t help—perimenopause hot flushes have become a new, uncomfortable part of daily life—but more than anything, it was the sheer wave of trauma crashing in that knocked me off my feet.

Birth trauma is something that lingers. Even when you think you’re coping well, something small—a smell, a sound, the look on your child’s face—can send you spiralling back to that moment you feared for their life. And when you’ve lived through the world of NICU, of prematurity, of needles in tiny arms and the hum of monitors, it doesn’t take much to trigger that fear again.

Yesterday, the clinic staff were incredible. One of the team even went in and held Amelia so I didn’t have to. I’m not sure she’ll ever know how much that meant to me. It wasn’t just a kind gesture—it was a lifeline. Because in that moment, I wasn’t a mum with a toddler; I was a terrified woman, back in a hospital with flashbacks of cannulas and transfusions and all the unknowns.

Today, though, I had support. My mother-in-law came with us, and I honestly don’t think I could’ve gone through it again without her. Just knowing she was there gave me the strength to walk into that building. Not everyone has a family who shows up, and I’m so grateful that we do.

Support doesn’t always look like big gestures. Sometimes it’s someone simply being there. Sitting beside you. Distracting your child. Holding your hand. Making you a cuppa when you can’t move from the sofa. Family—whether they’re related by blood or chosen through love—can make all the difference.

This whole experience also reminded me of something else: I’m not the same person I was before pregnancy and birth trauma. I’m still a podiatrist, but I’ve decided not to go back to anything involving local anaesthetics. I just can’t. And that’s okay. It’s okay to acknowledge your limits and to protect your peace. Right now, I’m happy focusing on simple nail care and helping people in a way that doesn’t cost me my mental health.

To anyone else struggling after a traumatic birth or parenting experience—please know you’re not alone. Whether it’s a partner, parent, friend, or even a kind stranger in a waiting room, lean on the people who want to help. You don’t have to be strong all the time.

Let’s remind ourselves: asking for support is not weakness. It’s wisdom. And it’s love—in action.

💬 Let’s talk:

Have you had a moment when someone’s support made all the difference? Share in the comments or message me privately—your story matters.

💜 If you found this blog helpful, don’t forget to like, share, and subscribe to The Good, The Bad, and Your Parenting Journey. We’re in this together.

📚 References & Resources:

Tommy’s – Support for Families with Pregnancy and Birth Trauma Birth Trauma Association UK Mind – Coping with Panic Attacks NHS Inform – Support from Family and Friends

When the Past Comes Rushing Back: Pregnancy Trauma, Panic Attacks and Flashbacks at a Routine Appointment

By Laura Johnstone – The Good, The Bad, and Your Parenting Journey

Today, Amelia had a blood test. A simple enough procedure, or at least it should have been.

But as soon as we stepped into the waiting room, my chest tightened. My hands started to shake, my vision blurred, and I felt myself spiralling. I was having a panic attack—and I hadn’t even made it to the appointment yet.

Then came the flashback. The kind that doesn’t knock politely. The kind that storms in and takes over.

I wasn’t in a paediatric waiting room anymore. I was back in that darkened room, flat on my back, with a huge needle slowly making its way through my bump and into my unborn baby’s body.

I could feel the pressure. The fear. The raw panic as I lay completely still while they carried out the in-utero blood transfusion that was meant to save Amelia’s life.

The monitors beeped. I held my breath. And every part of me silently screamed, Please, please let her make it through this.

That was the moment my mind dragged me back to today. And my body reacted as if it was happening all over again.

Pregnancy trauma is big. It’s real. And it doesn’t fade just because time has passed.

People often say things like “But she’s here now,” or “At least it all worked out.” And yes, I am endlessly thankful that Amelia is here and thriving. But gratitude and trauma can exist at the same time. One doesn’t cancel out the other.

I’ve spoken before about the complexities of having a premature baby. The NICU alarms. The lonely nights. The fear of the unknown. But there’s a layer people often don’t talk about enough—what happens before the birth. The medical interventions. The hospital stays. The moments where it felt like your body became a battleground.

The in-utero blood transfusion was one of those moments for me. It was clinical and calm on the outside. But inside, I was breaking.

Today, I felt that break all over again.

A simple needle brought it all back. And while the world carried on around me in that waiting room, I was stuck somewhere else—reliving a trauma that left invisible scars.

I want to say this clearly: if you’ve experienced medical trauma during pregnancy, you’re not weak for being triggered. You’re not overreacting. You’re not failing. You’re human.

Whether your trauma comes from an emergency delivery, a scan that showed something wasn’t quite right, or something like an in-utero procedure—it is valid.

And it deserves space, support, and understanding.

💬 Let’s Talk:

Have you experienced flashbacks or panic attacks triggered by your pregnancy or birth experience? What helps you cope when the past comes flooding back? Share your thoughts in the comments or send a message—this is a safe space.

📣 Call to Action:

If this post resonates with you, please like, share, and subscribe to The Good, The Bad, and Your Parenting Journey. Together, we can break the silence around pregnancy trauma and remind each other that we’re never alone.

🧠 Related Blogs to Explore:

When Parenthood Isn’t What You Pictured: Finding Strength After a Premature Birth The First and the Last: Navigating Milestones After Birth Trauma PTSD and NICU: When the Trauma Doesn’t End at Discharge

📚 References:

NHS (2024). PTSD after childbirth Tommy’s (2023). Trauma and loss in pregnancy and birth Birth Trauma Association UK – http://www.birthtraumaassociation.org.uk

Hyperfocus & Hiccups: Celebrating the Intense Focus and Inevitable Stumbles of ADHD Parenting

Let’s be honest—parenting with ADHD can feel like trying to herd cats while riding a unicycle. Some days are chaotic, loud, and overwhelming. But then there are those magical moments when everything clicks—the toys are organised by colour, the Pinterest lunchboxes are packed, and you’re firing on all cylinders like a superhero with a to-do list.

Welcome to the world of hyperfocus.

What Is Hyperfocus?

Hyperfocus is one of those lesser-known ADHD traits that can actually feel like a superpower. It’s that incredible mental state where you’re so immersed in something—whether it’s researching baby weaning recipes, rearranging the playroom, or deep-diving into the best sensory-friendly toys—that hours pass without you even noticing.

It’s like being in “the zone,” but with the intensity turned up to eleven.

For those of us parenting while managing our own neurodiversity, or raising children who are neurodivergent themselves, hyperfocus can be both a blessing and a bit of a stumbling block.

The Joy of the Flow State

Flow states are beautiful. When I’m there, I feel calm, capable, and genuinely content. My brain feels aligned. It’s not racing or distracted—it’s driven. And I can get so much done.

Whether it’s sorting through baby clothes by size and season or creating a detailed visual schedule for my little one, these moments make me feel like I’m on top of life. It’s the kind of focus people without ADHD might pay for in an expensive productivity course.

In these times, I feel not only proud, but powerful.

…And Then Come the Hiccups

But let’s not pretend it’s all smooth sailing. The downside of hyperfocus? It often comes at a cost. I might forget to eat. The washing might stay wet in the machine. I may find myself slightly short with my child who dares interrupt me in the middle of a hyperfocus session.

Sometimes, the laser focus that makes me brilliant at one task also makes me forget the 20 others that needed doing.

And when that bubble bursts—hello, overwhelm. The dishes are still there. The toddler is climbing the kitchen counters. The dog hasn’t been walked. And I’m mentally flatlined.

That’s the hiccup. The crash after the high.

Embracing the Rhythm of ADHD Parenting

Here’s what I’ve learned: parenting with ADHD is all about rhythm—not perfection. There will be moments of stunning clarity and creation, followed by forgetful, messy, very human stumbles.

And that’s okay.

Because in those hyperfocused moments, our children see our passions. They see us model creativity, dedication, and drive. And in the stumbles, they see how we handle imperfection, how we bounce back, and how we love ourselves even when the wheels fall off.

Strategies That Help Me (Most of the Time)

If you’re nodding along, here are a few things that help me harness the power of hyperfocus without burning out:

Timers & reminders – I set alarms for meals, medication, and to move my body. Visual schedules – They help both me and my child stay on track without relying on memory alone. Chunking tasks – Instead of planning the whole day, I break things into bite-sized pieces. Accepting help – Whether it’s asking my partner to remind me it’s bedtime or using apps to manage routines, I’ve stopped trying to be Superwoman.

You’re Not Alone in This

If you’re parenting with ADHD—or supporting a partner or child who is—please know this: your brain is wired differently, not wrong. Your hyperfocus is not a flaw; it’s a feature. And yes, while the hiccups may knock you sideways at times, they don’t define your parenting.

You do.

So celebrate those moments when you flow. Forgive yourself when you stumble. And always, always know that your love, energy, and intention matter far more than any colour-coded chart or perfectly packed nappy bag.

Let’s Keep the Conversation Going

If this post resonated with you, I’d love for you to share it with a friend who might need to hear it. Don’t forget to like, comment, or subscribe to stay in the loop for more relatable, real-parenting chats. You’re doing an amazing job—even on the hiccup days.

References and Further Reading

Brown, T.E. (2005). Attention Deficit Disorder: The Unfocused Mind in Children and Adults. Yale University Press. Hallowell, E.M. & Ratey, J.J. (2011). Driven to Distraction (Revised). Anchor. CHADD (Children and Adults with Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder) – https://chadd.org ADDitude Magazine – https://www.additudemag.com NHS ADHD Overview – https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/attention-deficit-hyperactivity-disorder-adhd

Real Talk, Raw Love: Why This Tagline Speaks to My Soul

If I had to sum up everything I do—all the writing, podcasting, volunteering, book-making, and late-night thinking-while-doing-the-washing-up moments—it would be this:

Real Talk, Raw Love: Championing Parents Through Prematurity, Neurodiversity, and the Unexpected.

This isn’t just a tagline. It’s who I am.

It’s for the mum who sits in the hospital ward, clinging to hope while her baby fights in the NICU.

It’s for the dad who’s masking his fear behind logistics and long commutes.

It’s for the parents navigating the confusing, overwhelming world of neurodiversity—while quietly navigating their own.

It’s for anyone who’s been told to “stay strong” when they’re barely hanging on.

Why “Real Talk”?

Because I’ve lived through the kind of experiences that you can’t wrap in a bow. I was born at 28 weeks in the early ’80s when neonatal care was still finding its feet. I lost my twin brother, Nicholas, at birth. There weren’t grief counsellors or support groups back then—just silence. And I carried that silence into adulthood.

Later, I became a mum to my own premature baby. And just like that, everything resurfaced. Birth trauma, PTSD, the deep ache of uncertainty.

Nothing about that experience was Instagrammable—but it was real.

So I speak honestly, because I know what it feels like to be in the thick of it. And I want you to know you’re not alone in the mess.

Why “Raw Love”?

Because love doesn’t always look like cuddles and calm bedtime routines. Sometimes it’s hospital alarms, syringes, missed milestones, and advocating for your child when your own energy is gone.

Love is showing up when it’s hard. It’s crying in the car after an appointment, then wiping your eyes because there’s laundry and dinner and life still to do. It’s choosing to keep going, even when it feels like no one understands.

I see you. I’ve been you.

And I believe that raw, honest love is the most powerful kind.

Why “Championing Parents”?

Because that’s my mission. Whether I’m writing blogs, recording podcast episodes, designing resources, or sitting down with a cuppa and replying to messages—my goal is always the same:

To make sure parents, especially those who feel like they’re “different,” don’t have to walk this alone.

You might be a parent with a neurodiverse child, or you might be neurodiverse yourself. You might be grieving, adjusting, recovering, or simply surviving. I’m here for all of it.

No judgement. No perfection. Just a space where your story matters.

Together, We’re Building Something Bigger

This tagline is more than words—it’s the heartbeat of The Good, The Bad, and Your Parenting Journey. It’s everything I stand for.

If this message resonates with you, I’d love you to stick around.

💜 Like this post.

💬 Leave a comment.

📬 Subscribe to the blog.

🎙️ Or listen to the podcast where we dive even deeper.

Whether you’re here for support, stories, or just a reminder that someone understands—you’re in the right place.

Because your journey matters. And I’m walking it with you.

References & Inspiration

My own NICU and neurodivergent parenting journey Conversations from The Good, The Bad, and Your Parenting Journey podcast Lived experiences of friends and families in the community I support

If humans had taglines, what would yours be?

A Good Life Isn’t Measured in Things—It’s Measured in Time, Gratitude and Giving Back

When I think about what makes a good life, it’s not money or material things. It’s the giggles at bath time, the unplanned chats over a cup of tea, the moments when someone helps you up when you’re struggling—and when you can do the same for someone else.

It’s time.

It’s gratitude.

It’s giving back.

In the chaos of everyday life—especially parenting, neurodivergence, or caring for a child with extra needs—these moments can feel rare. But they’re the heart of what matters.

Time Is the Real Treasure

We all lead busy lives. Between nappy changes, work deadlines, sensory meltdowns, hospital appointments, and the general rollercoaster of parenting, it’s easy to lose sight of connection.

But it’s those simple, shared moments—sitting down for dinner, reading a story, phoning a friend when you finally have five minutes—that are the true definition of wealth.

A good life isn’t built in one big moment. It’s stitched together in small, consistent ones.

Gratitude Grounds Us

When life is tough, gratitude can feel out of reach—but it’s also what gets us through.

I’m not talking about toxic positivity or pretending things are fine when they’re not. I’m talking about looking at what is good, even in the hard stuff.

Maybe it’s a cuddle from your child after a tough morning. Or your partner bringing you a cuppa without being asked. Or a stranger holding the door when your arms are full.

Noticing these moments and saying a quiet “thank you” rewires how we feel. Gratitude gives us perspective. It doesn’t erase the chaos—it just reminds us we’re not alone in it.

Giving Back Isn’t Just for Later

We often think we have to wait until we’ve “got it together” to give back. But actually, some of the most powerful acts of kindness come from people who are still figuring things out.

Giving back doesn’t have to be huge.

It might be:

Listening to a friend who’s struggling Sharing your story so someone else feels less alone Volunteering a little time or a small donation to a cause close to your heart Teaching your child the importance of empathy

In our family, we talk a lot about giving without expecting anything back. I want to raise my daughter knowing that kindness and connection are what really matter. I want her to know that the world is better when we help each other.

And I’ve found, over time, that giving to others—especially when you’ve been through something hard—is one of the most healing things you can do.

What Makes a Good Life?

For me, it’s simple:

Time with the people you love Gratitude for what you have Finding small ways to give back

You don’t need to be perfect. You don’t need to have it all figured out. You just need to keep showing up—with love, kindness, and a willingness to notice the beauty in the ordinary.

Let’s Build a Life That Feels Good, Not Just Looks Good

Take a moment today to:

Send a message to someone you miss Write down three things you’re grateful for Think of one small way you can give back this week

🌱 If this blog resonated with you, I’d love it if you gave it a like, shared it with a friend, and subscribed for more honest chats about parenting, connection, and life’s beautifully messy moments. 🌱

References and Further Reading

Harvard Study of Adult Development: https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2017/04/over-nearly-80-years-harvard-study-has-been-showing-how-to-live-a-healthy-and-happy-life/ Mental Health Foundation UK: https://www.mentalhealth.org.uk/ Emmons, R.A., & McCullough, M.E. (2003). Counting blessings versus burdens: An experimental investigation of gratitude and subjective well-being in daily life. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology.

What are the most important things needed to live a good life?

Who I Spend the Most Time With – And Why That’s a Privilege

By Laura Johnstone

When today’s blog prompt asked, “Who do you spend the most time with?” the answer came without hesitation: my daughter.

She’s my little shadow, my sidekick, and the heartbeat of my day. Whether we’re having a quiet moment cuddling or she’s scaling the furniture like a tiny escape artist, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

But I also know that one day, things will change.

Eventually, I’ll return to work – and possibly full-time, if my disabilities allow. And when that happens, I already know I’ll miss her more than words can express. It’s something I try not to dwell on too much, but it lingers quietly in the back of my mind.

And yet, I feel incredibly lucky.

This morning, I saw a TikTok of a couple who had been trying to conceive for nine years – and they’d just found out they were finally pregnant. I burst into tears. It reminded me of the moment I found out I was pregnant with Amelia. I made a video for Ryan. I was so emotional that he couldn’t even understand what I was saying. He just kept saying, “What? Are you okay?” – and I was trying to say, “We’re having a baby.”

I still have that little animation I made, every day, tucked away privately on my phone. It’s not something I share often, because I feel so incredibly lucky to have her. There’s a quiet part of me that still can’t believe she’s here – alive, thriving, laughing, mine.

And while the journey to parenthood hasn’t been easy – with redundancy during pregnancy, trauma, NICU days, and all the uncertainties – I now see that losing my job gave me something most parents don’t get. Time. Time to be with her. Time to heal. Time to hold her without rushing.

That’s why I hold these moments close. Because even on the hardest days, she’s the reason I keep going.

💬 I’d love to hear from you

Do you have a moment that changed everything? Something that made you realise how lucky you are – even through the hard bits? Let me know in the comments. And if this blog made you smile, please like and subscribe so you never miss a post from me.

📚 References

Sands UK. (2023). Pregnancy after loss support Scope UK. (2024). Support for disabled parents Working Families. (2024). Pregnancy and redundancy rights

Who do you spend the most time with?

Why Volunteering Matters: Giving Without Expecting Back – A Value I’m Passing to My Daughter

By Laura Johnstone

This week is Volunteers’ Week (1st–7th June), and I’ve found myself reflecting on what it means to give your time freely, especially when life is already full. For me, volunteering isn’t something extra I squeeze in—it’s a part of who I am.

I volunteer for four incredible charities: UK Sepsis Trust, Sepsis Research FEAT, Ickle Pickles, and Diabetes UK. Each one is close to my heart, rooted in personal experience, and tied to the values I want to pass on to my daughter, Amelia.

Giving Without Getting Back

We live in a world where so much is transactional. What can I get from this? What do I gain? But volunteering turns that idea on its head. It’s about giving without expecting anything in return—and that’s exactly why it matters so much to me.

This is something I hope Amelia grows up understanding. I want her to see that compassion isn’t just a feeling, it’s something you do. That helping others isn’t about praise or status. It’s about being part of something bigger than yourself.

Why I Chose These Charities

UK Sepsis Trust & Sepsis Research FEAT – I nearly lost my life to sepsis. It was fast, terrifying, and left me with long-term impacts. I now know how vital early recognition is. These two organisations are doing incredible work to spread awareness, improve outcomes, and push forward life-saving research. Sharing my story and supporting them however I can is one way I try to turn something traumatic into something powerful. Ickle Pickles – As a mum to a premature baby, I know how lonely and overwhelming the neonatal journey can be. Ickle Pickles fund life-saving equipment for neonatal units across the UK. It’s a small charity doing big work, and I support them so that other families feel less alone when they need help the most. Diabetes UK – Before everything else, I was a podiatrist. I treated countless people living with diabetes and saw, far too often, how serious complications—especially foot ulcers—could lead to limb loss. Volunteering with Diabetes UK helps me continue that care in another way, raising awareness about the importance of foot health and early intervention. This is a cause that still means a great deal to me.

Why It Still Matters—Even as a Mum

Being a parent doesn’t stop me from volunteering. If anything, it motivates me even more. Because when Amelia watches me give my time, speak up, and show up for causes I care about, she’s learning that you can always make a difference—no matter how small it might seem.

Whether it’s sharing my story, supporting campaigns, or just listening to someone else’s, I believe every act of volunteering sends a ripple. One that someone else might need more than you’ll ever know.

How You Can Get Involved

If you’ve ever thought about volunteering but weren’t sure where to start—start small. You don’t need to sign up for everything. Just ask yourself: What matters to me? What lived experience do I have that could help someone else?

This Volunteers’ Week, I encourage you to find a cause that feels close to your heart. Whether it’s sharing your time, your story, your skills or simply your support—you will make a difference.

💬 Like what you’ve read?

If this resonated with you, please like, comment, and subscribe to the blog. Let’s keep building a community where kindness, honesty, and support are at the heart of everything we do. And if you’re a fellow volunteer—thank you. You’re changing the world, even if you don’t always see it.

Useful Links and References:

Volunteers’ Week UK UK Sepsis Trust Sepsis Research FEAT Ickle Pickles Charity Diabetes UK

🎙️ Crafting Our Jingle: Behind the Scenes of Distracted Diaries

By Laura Johnstone

This morning has been one of those wonderfully chaotic, creatively fuelled sessions that only makes sense if you’ve got ADHD—or are trying to parent while managing it!

Georgie and I have been working on something really exciting: designing the intro jingle for our podcast, Distracted Diaries.

Now, before you roll your eyes and think “it’s just a few seconds of sound,” let me tell you—this jingle had to capture us. And if you know us, you know that means a lot of personality, a sprinkle of distraction, and a whole lot of honesty.

We didn’t want something polished and generic. We wanted something that starts calm, just like those rare moments when the house is quiet and you’ve finally had your first sip of tea… then BAM!—chaos. That sudden pop of ADHD energy. Did I remember the snack bag? Where is the toddler? Did I reply to that email or just think I did?

That’s the middle of our jingle.

Then we wanted to bring it back down again, because that’s life, isn’t it? It ebbs and flows. Parenting, especially while neurodiverse, is never just one mood. And we want the intro to reflect that—a space where everyone feels welcome, however your brain works or whatever season of parenting you’re in.

We’re so proud of what we’ve come up with. It’s short, it’s a bit silly, and it’s very us. It’s been such a laugh designing it, and honestly, it’s made the podcast feel even more real.

Stay tuned—because Distracted Diaries is nearly here. We can’t wait to invite you into our little corner of chaos, caffeine, compassion and candid chats. If you’ve ever felt like you’re winging it as a parent or wondering if it’s just you—trust us, it’s not.

We’ll be here soon. Jingle and all.

💜

Laura x

Gathering Evidence for Your Child’s Autism Assessment: A Parent’s Guide

If you’re reading this, you may already be in the process of seeking an autism assessment for your child—or you’re wondering where to start. It can feel overwhelming, especially if you’re also navigating school meetings, waiting lists, or your own neurodivergence. I get it—I’ve been there.

The truth is, gathering the right kind of supporting evidence can make a real difference. It gives professionals a clearer picture and can help speed up the process in some areas. But most importantly, it allows your child to be seen for who they are, with all their unique traits and challenges.

So here’s a parent-to-parent guide on what you can gather ahead of an autism assessment, whether through CAMHS, your local community paediatrician, or private services.

1. Start a Behaviour Diary

Keeping a written log (or even audio or video if that’s easier for you) of your child’s behaviours over a few weeks can be really helpful. Look out for things like:

How they react to changes in routine Sensory sensitivities (noisy places, textures, smells) Sleep patterns and struggles Social interactions or difficulties Intense interests or repetitive behaviours Emotional responses and how they regulate (or struggle to)

Keep it honest and simple. No need to over-analyse—just record what you see.

2. Ask Nursery or School for Observations

Teachers, teaching assistants, or SENCOs are often the first to notice when something seems different. Ask them for a written summary or report that includes:

Social behaviour with peers Classroom participation Communication style (verbal or non-verbal) Any behavioural challenges or support needs Progress with emotional regulation

If your child has already had any adjustments or a support plan (like SEN Support or IEP), ask for a copy.

3. Use Standardised Questionnaires

Many assessment services use tools like:

The Social Communication Questionnaire (SCQ) Childhood Autism Spectrum Test (CAST) Strengths and Difficulties Questionnaire (SDQ)

Some professionals will give you these during the process, but you can often find templates online or through parent forums to help prepare yourself.

4. Collect Medical and Developmental History

Note anything from pregnancy, birth, and early milestones. This might include:

Premature birth or birth trauma Delays in crawling, walking, or talking Feeding difficulties or sensory issues from infancy Past diagnoses or referrals (e.g. speech and language therapy, OT, audiology)

This builds a fuller picture of your child’s developmental journey.

5. Gather Family Context and History

Is there a family history of autism, ADHD, or other neurodivergence? Sharing this can be helpful. Many families find traits are inherited, and professionals will consider this context as part of the assessment.

6. Include Videos if Helpful

Sometimes it’s hard to explain certain behaviours in words. A short video clip showing your child stimming, struggling in social situations, or navigating a meltdown can offer powerful insight. Just make sure you have consent if others are involved in the footage.

7. Get Support from Professionals You’re Already Working With

If your child sees a speech therapist, occupational therapist, paediatrician, or mental health practitioner—ask them for a short written summary. These allied professionals’ voices are valued in the process.

8. Be Honest About Your Concerns

Whether you’re writing a parent letter or speaking at appointments, trust your gut. You know your child best. Don’t downplay their struggles just because they might “mask well” at school. Masking is exhausting and unsustainable.

9. Join Support Groups and Forums

It might not be ‘evidence’ in the traditional sense, but being in a space where other parents are going through the same can validate your experiences. It also gives you access to advice, templates, and language to help you advocate confidently.

Final Thoughts

Getting your child assessed for autism is a deeply personal process, and it can feel like a full-time job on top of parenting. But you’re not alone—and the more you can gather ahead of time, the more empowered you’ll feel.

This isn’t about trying to prove anything. It’s about helping your child get the understanding, support, and compassion they deserve.

If this blog helped you, please like, share, or subscribe to stay updated on future posts around parenting, neurodiversity, and navigating the system. You’re part of a village now—and everyone’s welcome here.

References:

National Autistic Society. (2024). https://www.autism.org.uk NHS CAMHS Guidance. (2023). Ambitious About Autism. (2024). https://www.ambitiousaboutautism.org.uk Contact – For Families with Disabled Children. (2024). https://contact.org.uk

Three Books That Changed My Life

By Laura Johnstone

Some books come into your life and shift something. They don’t just entertain you—they shape you, change how you think, and in some cases, even how you see yourself. These three books—each from very different parts of my life—have done exactly that.

1. The Diary of Anne Frank – A Window into Humanity and Injustice

I was sixteen when I read The Diary of Anne Frank, and I’ve never read it again. Not because I didn’t want to, but because it hit me so deeply. At the time, I was unwell and in a lot of pain. Doctors suspected appendicitis, but I now know it was likely to do with my endometriosis.

The GP who came to the house was an incredible man—a German doctor who spoke nine languages fluently and was learning two more. He was kind, deeply intelligent, and someone I trusted. But when he arrived, I quickly tucked the book under my pillow. It wasn’t about guilt—it was more about not wanting to offend. I did the same when I was admitted to hospital and saw that my doctor there was also German.

Now, I wouldn’t hide it. I’d be proud to say I was reading to learn, to understand, to never forget.

At that point in my life, I had only just started reading full sentences instead of word by word. My reading was still slow. And I think that’s part of why Anne’s words affected me so much—I had to absorb every single word. I couldn’t skim or rush. I felt every line. And it stayed with me.

2. Harry Potter – My Complicated First Love with Reading

This one is hard to write. I want to be upfront: I no longer support the author of Harry Potter because of her views on trans women. Trans rights are human rights, and I stand firmly with the trans community.

That said, Harry Potter was the first book that made me want to read—and that’s something I can’t ignore in my story.

I had tried to read Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone three times before I could actually get into it. The fourth attempt was different. I had made a promise to myself: if I couldn’t get into the book, I wouldn’t go see the film. That fourth try happened two weeks before the first film came out in cinemas—and finally, it clicked.

Something changed. My reading speed started to improve. And for the first time, when I was reading, I could see the scenes in my head, like a film playing out in real time. I now know that this vivid imagination is a common neurodivergent trait, but at the time, it just felt magical.

That book gave me confidence. It made me feel like I could read. Like books were mine too.

3. The Let Them Theory by Mel Robbins – A Life-Changer for My Growth

This book came into my life at just the right time. As a parent, and especially as someone who’s faced a lot of external judgment, The Let Them Theory by Mel Robbins was exactly what I needed.

The core idea is simple: if people want to judge, criticise, or misunderstand you—let them. You don’t have to spend your energy trying to change their mind.

Those two words—“let them”—became something I repeated to myself during stressful moments, especially in parenting. It’s helped me step back from unnecessary pressure and stay focused on what really matters: being the best version of myself for my daughter.

More and more, I find myself drawn to self-development books—not because I think I need fixing, but because I’m always growing. I want to lead by example. I want my daughter to see that growth is a good thing. That we never stop learning.

Final Thoughts

Each of these books has left a mark on my life.

Anne Frank taught me about injustice and courage.

Harry Potter helped me believe I could be a reader.

And Mel Robbins reminded me to let go of other people’s opinions and focus on my own peace.

I’ve changed with each one. And I carry them with me still.

Has a book ever changed you? I’d love to know your story. Please leave a comment, give this post a like, and subscribe for more personal reflections on parenting, self-discovery, and neurodiversity.

References:

Frank, A. (1947). The Diary of a Young Girl. Contact Publishing. Robbins, M. (2023). The Let Them Theory. Mel Robbins Productions. GLAAD. (2020). Understanding the Harm of Anti-Trans Rhetoric

List three books that have had an impact on you. Why?