Start Here

Four entry points, grouped by where you might be rather than by topic. Start wherever feels closest.

For your child

“Something feels different about my child, and I’m trying to understand.”

You’ve noticed things. The intensity, the meltdowns, the way your child lights up around one specific interest but falls apart in a crowd. Maybe you’re being told your child is fine while your gut says otherwise. You’re not imagining it, and you’re not alone.

Start here:

Meltdowns vs Tantrums

The distinction I got wrong for years, and what changed when I understood it was a can’t, not a won’t.

The Morning He Wouldn’t Let Go

A child who cries every morning is often frightened of the leaving, not the school. The selective mutism underneath it, what helped in the mornings, and the fuller story of what we tried next.

The First 90 Seconds of a Meltdown

What happens in the first ninety seconds at the doorway, and the four things I had to stop doing.

When Your Neurodivergent Child Asks About Death

The moment my child asked the question I wasn’t ready for, and what a decade in palliative care did and didn’t prepare me to say.

Recognising yourself

“I keep recognising myself in my child, and it’s unsettling.”

You started researching for them and ended up finding yourself in the research. The masking, the sensory overwhelm, the exhaustion of performing normal. It reads less like your child and more like your whole life. This is more common than you know, and it matters.

Start here:

The Faults That Were Never Faults

The perfectionism I spent forty years calling a flaw. Watching my son, I finally saw it for what it really was.

The Threads of Life

A childhood reread from the beginning, with new eyes.

The Demon Marks Were Always Mine

On the grief of not knowing your own marks were there, and what it means to stop covering them.

Is It All in My Head?

Sitting across from a psychologist at midlife, wondering if I had imagined all of it.

The diagnosis road

“I’ve just been diagnosed, or I’m in the middle of the assessment process.”

You are in one of the strangest, most disorienting seasons a person can be in. Everything makes sense and nothing makes sense at the same time. The diagnosis doesn’t create a new story. It gives your old story its real title, and that takes time to absorb.

Start here:

The Long Way to the Room

The complete map, from the first doubt to the day after the report. If you are still outside the room, start with this one.

When You Stop Pretending You Don’t Need Directions

An honest account of what the process involves, from someone who has been through it.

Sitting With the Unknown

What the in-between of waiting for results actually feels like.

The Silence Between Knowing and Writing

The five months after the diagnosis. What depression after a late diagnosis looks like, and what eventually shifted.

Why I Called It “Grow with Their Flow”

The post that explains everything. Start here if you start anywhere.

For you, the parent

“I’m running on empty, and wondering what this is all for.”

This one is for the parent, or the person, who loves deeply and still feels lost. Who has been holding too much for too long. You don’t need advice right now. You need to feel less alone. These were written for you.

Start here:

The Weight I Cannot Put Down

The diagnosis did not lift the guilt. It only changed its shape.

Both Things Are True

For the quiet grief of a life that didn’t arrive the way you planned.

A Legacy Left Unwritten

The post I couldn’t not write. What a decade in palliative care taught me about what matters.

The Circle of Life

A penguin documentary, the palliative bedsides behind it, and the truth I can put in front of my children but cannot make them ready to hold.

Free download

Preview of Before You Walk Into the Room: the cover beside a page of memory prompts, the prompts blurred


Looking for a book to read? Start with my bookshelf: books that helped me after diagnosis, books that changed how I parent, and books for your child’s shelf.


A small note

If you’re here because something feels hard right now, with your child, or within yourself…

You’re not behind.

You’re not late.

You’re not doing it wrong.

Some things just take time to come into focus.