Teaching with a Difference

Teaching with a Difference Empowering Neurodivergent Learners & Educators

1:1 Coaching | Parent Support | School Training

I provide specialised emotional & educational wellbeing coaching for children and young people, drawing on my extensive background as a primary school teacher, as well as my lived experience of neurodivergence. My unique approach combines accredited coaching expertise with extensive teaching experience and classroom practice, to deliver transformative support for learners. My journey as an educato

r spans several years across Key Stages 1 and 2, where I developed particular expertise in supporting neurodivergent students and those with SEND, SEMH and additional educational needs. This hands-on experience informs my coaching practice, allowing me to bridge the gap between traditional education and personalised emotional support. As an accredited Executive Functions Coach (Connections in Mind, 2024) currently training in NLP (neuro-linguistic programming) techniques, I bring powerful strategies to help young people understand their own brains and realise their full potential. As a well-behaved, academically successful female, my own ADHD went undiagnosed until my thirties - a common story for women and girls who don't match traditional stereotypes. My journey reinforces my core belief that neurodivergence should not be a barrier to academic achievement, professional success, social connection or emotional growth and has ignited my mission to challenge misconceptions about ADHD and other neurodivergent conditions. I am a proud co-founder of the Support Group for Neurodivergent Educational Professionals. At Teaching with a Difference, I combine professional expertise with lived experience to offer a truly understanding, empathetic and effective approach to coaching for children and young people.

Much of my work sits at the point where families and education systems meet.I support parents who are feeling overwhelme...
04/05/2026

Much of my work sits at the point where families and education systems meet.

I support parents who are feeling overwhelmed, burnt out, or unsure how to help their neurodivergent child in a world that wasn’t designed with their nervous system in mind.

I also work with education professionals and schools who want clearer, more compassionate ways to support neurodivergent learners, strengthen parent–school relationships, and move away from crisis-driven responses.

This work is grounded in lived experience and professional insight.
I’m an experienced teacher, executive functions and ADHD parent coach, and a late-diagnosed ADHDer.

This means I understand the realities on both sides:
the pressure families are under, and the constraints schools are working within.

Support doesn’t look like quick fixes or generic strategies. It looks like slowing things down, making sense of what’s really happening, and finding approaches that are realistic, ethical, and sustainable for everyone involved.

If you’re a parent, educator, or organisation in need of neurodiversity-informed support, the first step is often a conversation.

DM me or use the contact details on my profile to find out more.






When a child is dysregulated, the goal isn’t to fix behaviour.It’s to help their nervous system settle enough for thinki...
01/05/2026

When a child is dysregulated, the goal isn’t to fix behaviour.

It’s to help their nervous system settle enough for thinking and learning to come back online.

In practice, the most effective supports are simple, not sophisticated.

First: A regulated adult presence.
Children borrow regulation from the adults around them. A calm tone, slower pace, and reduced language will do more than any strategy when emotions are high.

Second: Reduced demand.
During dysregulation, expectations that require compliance, reasoning, or verbal processing can increase distress. Pausing demands gives the nervous system space to settle.

Third: Predictability and safety.
Knowing what will happen next, where they can go, and that they won’t be punished for struggling helps children move out of survival mode.

These aren’t permissive approaches. They’re regulation-informed supports that make it possible for boundaries, learning, and reflection to happen later.

This distinction matters in real classrooms and homes, where adults are balancing care, structure, and limited capacity.

For those working with children:
What supports have you found genuinely help during moments of dysregulation?

I’d welcome practical reflections.






Punishment-based systems are often designed to create clarity, consistency, and accountability.The intention is usually ...
29/04/2026

Punishment-based systems are often designed to create clarity, consistency, and accountability.

The intention is usually positive.

But for neurodivergent children, these systems often have unintended consequences.

When a child’s behaviour is driven by overwhelm, sensory overload, anxiety, or executive dysfunction, punishment doesn’t teach regulation.
It teaches avoidance, fear, or masking.

Children may comply in the short term, but at a cost.
They suppress distress rather than learn how to manage it.
They become more anxious, not more capable.
They learn that struggling leads to consequences, not support.

Over time, this can erode trust.
Between child and adult.
Between families and schools.
And often between professionals and their own instincts.

This isn’t about removing boundaries or structure.
Neurodivergent children need clarity and consistency.

The difference is how those boundaries are held.

When systems prioritise regulation, understanding, and relationship alongside expectations, behaviour often shifts without escalation.
Not because children are trying harder, but because the environment is working with their nervous systems rather than against them.

For those working in education:
What alternatives to punishment-based approaches have you seen make a meaningful difference for neurodivergent learners?

I would welcome your reflections.






Most schools are trying to do the right thing.Teachers care.SENDCOs are stretched.Systems are under pressure.What I wish...
27/04/2026

Most schools are trying to do the right thing.

Teachers care.
SENDCOs are stretched.
Systems are under pressure.

What I wish was more widely understood is that many neurodivergent children are not struggling because of a lack of motivation, boundaries, or expectations.

They are struggling because their nervous systems are working harder in environments that demand constant regulation.

For these children:
• effort is often invisible
• compliance can hide overwhelm
• behaviour is frequently a signal, not a choice

When this isn’t recognised, support can unintentionally become about control rather than understanding.

And relationships between schools and families can start to strain, even when everyone wants the same outcome.

When schools are able to view behaviour, learning, and emotional responses through a neurodiversity-informed lens, something shifts.

Children feel safer.
Parents feel supported.
Professionals feel clearer about what actually helps.

This isn’t about removing structure or lowering standards. It’s about aligning expectations with how neurodivergent children actually experience the school day.

For those working in education:
What training or support would most help teams work effectively with neurodivergent learners?

I would welcome your reflections.






When a child is struggling, discipline is often offered as the solution.More boundaries.Clearer consequences.Stricter fo...
24/04/2026

When a child is struggling, discipline is often offered as the solution.

More boundaries.
Clearer consequences.
Stricter follow-through.

For neurodivergent children, discipline alone rarely creates the change adults want.
Not because ND children don’t care, but because many are already operating at the edge of their capacity.

When we offer support, it's different.

It means understanding what a child is coping with beneath the behaviour.
Adjusting expectations when nervous systems are overloaded.
Providing safety, predictability, and connection before asking for change.

When support is in place, children don’t need to fight as hard to be understood.
Parents don’t have to stay in constant crisis mode.
And professionals can work collaboratively rather than reactively.

This isn’t about being permissive or removing boundaries.
It’s about recognising that real change happens when children feel supported, not controlled.

In your experience, what kinds of support have made the biggest difference for children and families?






Comparison is baked into parenting culture.Milestones.Timelines.Age expectations.Quiet assumptions about what children s...
22/04/2026

Comparison is baked into parenting culture.

Milestones.
Timelines.
Age expectations.
Quiet assumptions about what children should be able to do by now.

For neurodivergent children, these measures rarely fit.
Not because something is wrong, but because development isn’t linear in the way milestones suggest.

Skills often emerge unevenly.
Progress comes in bursts.
Capacity fluctuates depending on stress, environment, and regulation.

When parents compare their child to others, or to where they think their child should be, it often creates unnecessary pressure.
Pressure on the child.
Pressure on the parent.
And a constant sense of falling behind.

Many parents I work with aren’t struggling because their child isn’t progressing.
They’re struggling because they’re measuring that progress against a framework that was never designed for neurodivergent development.

Letting go of comparison doesn’t mean lowering expectations. It means shifting them to something more realistic, compassionate, and meaningful for that child.

I’m curious to hear from others.

What expectations or comparisons have you found hardest to let go of, either as a parent or a professional?






Advocating for neurodivergent children is often described as empowering.What’s talked about far less is the emotional to...
20/04/2026

Advocating for neurodivergent children is often described as empowering.

What’s talked about far less is the emotional toll of doing it constantly.

For many parents, advocacy isn’t a one-off conversation.
It’s a continuous process of explaining, translating, anticipating, and managing emotions and expectations – their child’s, their own, and often the system’s.

It looks like drafting careful emails late at night.
Preparing for meetings emotionally as well as practically.
Choosing words carefully to avoid being dismissed or labelled “difficult”.
Holding yourself together so your child’s needs are taken seriously.

This labour is largely invisible.
And because it’s invisible, it’s often underestimated.

From a systems perspective, this matters.
When advocacy relies on parents absorbing the emotional cost, burnout becomes inevitable.

I’m interested in opening this up as a conversation.

For those working in education, health, or support roles:
What would it look like to reduce the advocacy load parents are carrying, rather than expecting them to keep doing more?

And for parents and carers:
What part of advocacy takes the biggest toll on you?

I’d genuinely welcome reflections from both professionals and parents in the comments.






The warning signs of neurodivergent burnout in parents are often misunderstood.Chronic overwhelm, sensory overload, inte...
17/04/2026

The warning signs of neurodivergent burnout in parents are often misunderstood.

Chronic overwhelm, sensory overload, internal conflict...
These don't always look like collapse or crisis. Often, parents on the edge of burnout look like they're functioning on the outside, while inside, they're at maximum capacity.

Parents describe being constantly alert.

Mentally tracking routines, emotions, transitions, appointments, emails, and expectations.

Holding everything together for their child, while continually ignoring their own needs.

There’s exhaustion that sleep doesn’t fix.
Emotional numbness mixed with immense guilt.
A sense of being “always on”, even during rest.

Many parents tell me they feel ashamed for struggling. But this kind of burnout isn’t caused by a lack of resilience or effort. It’s the result of the long-term masking, sustained advocacy, and relentless demands of systems that weren't designed for neurodivergent brains.

Naming this matters.

When we recognise ND burnout in parents for what it is, we stop asking parents to try harder, and start asking what support is missing.
That shift benefits families, schools, and professionals alike.

If you work with families, support neurodivergent children, or are parenting in this space yourself, this perspective matters.

Share or save this post if it resonates.






In professional conversations, behaviour is often discussed as something to manage, reduce, or control.A regulation-info...
15/04/2026

In professional conversations, behaviour is often discussed as something to manage, reduce, or control.

A regulation-informed lens asks a different question.
What is this behaviour telling us about the child’s nervous system, capacity, and context?

This distinction matters.
Not as a theory, but in real classrooms, homes, and systems where adults are trying to do their best under pressure.

This reframing is at the heart of many CPD conversations I have with education professionals, because it changes not just strategies, but relationships and outcomes.

Save this for future reference, or share it with someone working in education or child support.




Advocacy burnout doesn’t sound dramatic.It sounds like replaying conversations in your head at 2AM.Second-guessing every...
13/04/2026

Advocacy burnout doesn’t sound dramatic.

It sounds like replaying conversations in your head at 2AM.
Second-guessing every email you write before you send it.
Thinking of the right response after you put down the phone.
Trying to stay calm while feeling misunderstood.
Running out of words to explain the same issue again, and again, and again.

In podcast conversations, advocacy is often discussed as a route to empowerment and resilience.

What’s missed is the cognitive burden of repeating, requesting, or rewording the same argument.
The emotional toll of being repeatedly forgotten, dismissed, or ignored.
The mounting pressure of staying calm, polite, and professional so that you aren't labelled "difficult".

This is the part of advocacy we should be talking about on podcasts and in professional spaces, because until we talk about the cognitive and emotional toll paid by parents, educators, and neurodivergent individuals, burnout will remain an inevitable fact of advocacy.

If you host a podcast or hold spaces for honest conversations about neurodiversity, education, parenting, and inclusion, this is a conversation I’m always open to having.




Address

Hailsham

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when Teaching with a Difference posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Contact The School

Send a message to Teaching with a Difference:

Shortcuts

Share