Getting a diagnosis is like finding out you’re adopted – it’s not that you’re odd and don’t fit in, you’re just part of a different family.
If people realised how hard autistics have to work to connect, they’d understand… empathy is a two-way street.
When K and I decided to be together it turns out, looking back, neither one of us gave it a lot of thought...
Recently, the mere anticipation of writing has resulted in instant mental paralysis, until this morning when I spilt an entire cup of coffee - the second in a fortnight. To put it succinctly, I lost my shit.
Is it just me or does Ramadan seem to get more air-time and column inches with every passing year?
With a lump in my throat I described my beautiful, clever, mischievous daughter and discussed all the ways we could help make her future the antithesis of my past.
Instead of building intercultural bridges as I imagined, I was adding my bricks to the prisons so many are walled up in by their own communities...
They said on the radio today this was the coldest February since eighteen-something. After a certain point cold is cold is cold.
I don’t need to take on the responsibility for changing other people’s misconceptions. Learning to be honest and authentic - standing in my own truth – is more important right now.
These days when I relax in shavasana at the end of yoga the tears flowing into my ears are from an excess of joy not sorrow...