There is a time each year, in the late spring or early summer, that I get a strange sense of missing out. This probably sounds very strange, especially now that I’m in my late thirties (how on earth did that one happen?) but I get a pang each year when it comes to exam season. By which I suppose I mainly mean school and college exams, although I’m sure there are lots of other students at varying levels of education also partaking. By the time exams were a thing for me I’d already come to dislike school. Although, to be specific here, it wasn’t everything about school that I didn’t like. I loved learning, all the academic aspects of education were things I genuinely enjoyed. I did well, I was a very good, if incredibly quiet, student and from the outside I imagine it looked like I enjoyed it all. But the social side of school, from probably the age of about ten, was hell, and only got worse as I got older. I didn’t fit in, and I didn’t know why. I made some friends, but struggled to keep them, and often felt like they only liked me if I wasn’t actually being myself around them. Socialising was hard, and became more important and more impossible for me to understand as I got into pre-teenhood and adolescence. All of this to say, the parts of school I loved where the bits most kids moaned about. I loved the lessons, the homework, the actual learning…especially if it was solo. Group work was a nightmare for me, as was anything that involved presenting to my peers. Coursework, if solo, was quite enjoyable, but for me the absolute best parts were exams and tests. ...

The Hidden Disabilities Sunflower The sunflower represents hidden disabilities and you may spot people wearing it on a lanyard, wristband or pin badge. Hidden disabilities are just that - not always obvious just from looking at someone. People may use the Hidden Disabilities Sunflower 🌻 to signal that they have a disability, condition or chronic disease that affects them, their life and their needs, but may not be immediately obvious to others around them. ...

It’s a way of thinking about disability, which was created by disabled people, and it views disability as something which is created by society and the ways in which disabled people face barriers that stop them from taking part in society in the same way as non-disabled folk. Those barriers could be physical (lack of ramp access, visual information formats with no alternatives), attitudinal (negative stereotypical views and prejudice) or systemic (discriminatory policies, laws and practices). ...

Unfamiliarity and ambiguity are two things that many neurodivergent folk really struggle with. New and unpredictable places and events can cause a whole lot of anxiety. But there are plenty of simple (and cheap) things you can do to reduce the ambiguity and allow us the accommodations we need to feel more comfortable and to reduce anxiety ahead of and at the event: Clarity, clarity and more clarity! You really can’t give too many details about what is going to happen. Think agendas, timetables, maps, invitee lists, descriptions of any activities etc. If possible, video tours, photos, floor plans or maps of new locations are ideal - nothing is too much detail but at a minimum it’s great to know where entrances and toilets are, as well as any calm / quiet spaces we can retreat to if we feel overwhelmed. ...

Employment rates are worryingly low for neurodivergent people in general and autistic people in particular. Recently I’ve seen a lot of discussions focussing on the benefits of hiring neurodivergent folks because we are ‘good for business’, extolling the often financial benefits of having us around. While this is well-meaning, and the end result may well be positive if it means we get better job opportunities, it feels like it’s missing the point. ...

Being diagnosed as autistic later in life has had its challenges. One of them is how to go about telling people. This maybe seems strange but there are a whole lot of negative responses and misinformed views out there. I do really want to talk about it. I don’t want to have to hide such a huge part of who I am. I’m glad I finally know I’m autistic, and I’m glad I am autistic. I don’t see it is a bad thing at all, and it’s so fundamental to who I am that I can’t really imagine myself without it, because I wouldn’t be me anymore. It does come with some significant difficulties, but it’s also given me so many things that I’m thankful for, and knowing about it has totally changed my life for the better. But I know that society still, at best, doesn’t really understand and, at worst, has a pretty negative view of autism. So it’s often hard, and sometimes unsafe, to open up about it. ...