Blossom Education

This - equity, not equality.

Wishing everyone a very Happy New Year!

How exciting! Today my new business cards and leaflets arrived!

This is such an interesting read as many of us who are neurodivergent struggle to cope with the changing of the seasons.

Gentleness, kindness to ourselves and to our bodies is a must.

Credit to The Autistic SENCO

Why your body feels ‘off’ in autumn and winter.

Interoception in autumn and winter can become so much more challenging — and many neurodivergent people feel this long before they have the words for it.

As the seasons shift, the body suddenly has to interpret a whole new set of signals.
Colder air. Less daylight. Heavier clothes. Different routines. More demands on energy and the interoceptive system — the part of the brain that helps us understand our internal signals — can get overwhelmed or confused.

This is when you or your child might find yourselves thinking:

“Am I hungry… or just cold?”

“Am I tired… or is it just darker earlier?”

“Do I need a drink… or a blanket?”

“Why does my body feel weird and I don’t know why?”

For those with interoception differences, this time of year can bring:

• Misjudging layers — constantly too hot or too cold.

• Internal restlessness that looks like irritability.

• Struggling to notice thirst or hunger until it’s extreme.

• Feeling “unsettled” or “not quite right” without a clear reason.

• Finding it harder to begin tasks because the body doesn’t feel regulated.

• Sudden tiredness that hits harder because of shorter days and sensory load.

And because most people don’t talk about interoception at all — let alone how seasons affect it — many end up blaming themselves:

For being “moody.”

For being “unmotivated.”

For “overreacting.”

For “not coping” with the cold or darkness like everyone else seems to.

But none of this is a character flaw; it’s a seasonal shift in sensory demand.

Autumn and winter require gentleness.
More warmth.
More pauses.
More checking in:
“Have I eaten?”
“Am I overwhelmed?”
“Do I need light?”
“Do I need stillness?”
“Do I need movement?”

Bodies talk — sometimes in whispers, sometimes by screaming at us to show us where uncomfortable — and at this time of year those signals can be harder to interpret.

If interoception feels muddled right now, that’s understandable because your body isn’t being difficult; it’s adjusting.

Offer warmth without questioning it.

Offer food before you’re starving.

Offer rest before you’re drained.

Offer light where you can.

A softer, slower rhythm is not just allowed — it’s often what the body needs most as winter settles in.

Hiw are you feeling at this time of year?

Have you noticed changes with your child or young person?

Emma
The Autistic SENCo
♾️

Photo: Hubbie and me on the back of our narrowboat in the pouring rain.

Exactly this. There is no one correct way of working, of being. We, as adults, have a great responsibility to children to ensure that we act and teach in a neuro affirming way.

Credit to The Autistic SENCO

“But You Can’t Design Your Life Around Your Neurotype, Emma…”

Oh, how many times have I heard this. Especially when I was home educating:

“But children have to live in the real world.”

“You can’t just design your life around your neurotype.”

And my answer, both then and now, is actually very simple: Yes. Yes, you absolutely can.

In fact, many of us must — not as a luxury, but as a necessity. Because trying to live a life that isn’t aligned with how your brain works is like trying to wear shoes three sizes too small and being told to just “get used to the pain.”

I’ve seen this up close in my own family.

My brother has worked in a niche field for over 25 years. He’s an expert — respected, successful, deeply skilled. He didn’t “overcome” his neurodivergence. He leaned into it. He built a life that works with his brain, not against it. His attention to detail, his focus, his drive to go deep rather than wide — all of those ND traits are assets in his world.

And now, watching my own children, I see the same story unfolding in their own unique ways.

One of my sons will work in a field where he can wear clothes that don’t cause him sensory distress. That’s not “special treatment.” That’s respecting his neurology. He’s not ready to be in a crowded office environment. Maybe one day he will be. Maybe not. But forcing it now helps no one — least of all him.

His brother, on the other hand, is ready for that kind of environment. He thrives with people, with teamwork, with the energy of others around him.

That’s the point.

Neuroaffirming doesn’t mean giving up on the “real world.” It means accepting that there isn’t just one real world. The corporate 9-to-5 open-plan office isn’t the gold standard of human functioning. The world is huge and varied — and it’s that diversity that gives us strength.

We don’t need to squeeze everyone into one mould. We need to give children the time, space, and support to discover their mould. And then help them build a life around it.

So yes — you can design your life around your neurotype.

You can design a life that doesn’t crush your nervous system.

You can design a life that works *with* your energy, your rhythm, your sensory profile, your communication style.

And when we do this for children — when we model it, champion it, and support it — we don’t create weakness. We create resilience.

Because true strength doesn’t come from forcing yourself to survive in an environment that harms you.

It comes from knowing who you are — and building a life that lets you thrive.

Emma
The Autistic SENCo
♾️

Photo: Me standing in the rain. Not sure why or what I was doing but it’s definitely me 😂

Before half term I was observed in a drop in session teaching Functional Skills English. The feedback I received was so positive, it was lovely to hear. Positive feedback is so very important both in the workplace and in learning; it helps to build self esteem, confidence and encourages us to edge outside of our comfort zone.

Here's some of the feedback I received, my lesson was graded as outstanding:
- so warm and supportive
- endless patience
- high expectations of herself and her students
- incredible subject knowledge
- pace and the pitch of the lesson were right for the learner
- impeccable resources

This is such an informative take on how those with autism can experience pain differently.

Credit to The Autistic Teacher

I have 1-2 spots left for 1:1 online tuition for this academic year. I offer a free initial telephone call to have a chat about the student, where they and the barriers to learning they're experiencing. This is followed by a free, no obligation, online Zoom session for you the parent/carer and the student to meet me and have a chat.

An excellent summary of what masking in school can look like. Credit to The Autistic Teacher.

Exactly this. I specialise in working with children and young adults who have experienced trauma, most often school based trauma. It takes time to build a learning environment in which the child or young adult feels safe to start to engage, for them to know with surety that they will always be met with calmness and patience, to know that they are safe to try. Words mean nothing to someone who has been traumatised, action is everything.

Credit to The Autistic SENCO

School Trauma – And Why You Can’t Just Intervention It Away

I want to speak honestly about something too often dismissed: school trauma. Not just “bad memories” or a “tough time at school,” but the kind of psychological impact that doesn’t just fade with time or get resolved with a well-meaning intervention.

My brother is 52 years old. He still remembers his school trauma — not as a distant story, but as a felt experience. The shame, fear, and powerlessness he carried as a child remain embedded in how he processes stress even now.

My son is 17. Same story. He doesn’t just recall what happened to him at school — he feels it in his body, years later, when he stands in line at a supermarket. Not because the supermarket is a dangerous place, but because unpredictability, scrutiny, or perceived judgment can trigger that old nervous system response. As much as a calm brain that’s been able to relax into a moment when a memory from the past seeps to the conscious present.

This is what school trauma does. It wires itself into the brain and body, shaping how a person moves through the world. And here’s the hard truth: it doesn’t go away just because a lovely new teacher smiles and says, “You’re safe now.”

We want to believe we can fix this. We want to believe that a good school, a thoughtful curriculum, or a kind adult can undo what happened. But trauma isn’t just a memory — it’s a wound. And wounds don’t close just because we want them to.

Children who have been hurt, dismissed, shamed, or made to feel powerless in educational environments carry those experiences with them — often silently — into adulthood.

Even when a new school environment is “better,” can a traumatised child truly relax? Can they believe it will stay kind? That the staff won’t change, the leadership won’t shift, or that no new initiative will suddenly pull the rug out from under them again?

The answer, often, is no. Not because they’re cynical or resistant. But because trauma teaches you not to trust change. It teaches you that safety is temporary and conditions can flip without warning.

That’s why trauma often re-emerges in moments of stress — not necessarily in school, but in the rest of life: choosing a career, having a child, standing in a queue. It doesn’t always look like a flashback. Sometimes it’s shutdown, anxiety, or an inability to move forward.

So no — in my view, school trauma cannot be “interventioned” out. It’s not a problem with a quick fix or a five-step recovery plan. It’s something we need to respect deeply. That means listening, not rushing, not trying to fix someone before understanding what’s broken.

It means we stop treating trauma as a behavioral issue and start seeing it as a relational and systemic wound.

And maybe the most important thing we can do is stop expecting young people — or grown adults — to “get over it.” Maybe instead we stand beside them and say, “You never should have gone through that. And I believe you.”

Photo: Hubbie with Number 4 butterfly sporting at Whipsnade