Meet Lauren

My youngest son had always been spirited.

 

He’d always had his little quirks. And somewhere deep inside, I’d always heard a quiet voice whispering, “I think there’s something else going on.”

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I remember picking him up from after care one afternoon, when the carer gently suggested that my child might be neurodivergent.

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Suddenly, that quiet whisper was shouting: “FINALLY. Let’s talk.”

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That moment cracked something open in me.  Alongside the strange sense of relief came a rush of fear, shame, and a fierce, protective love.  That one comment, and the diagnoses that followed, forced me to confront how I was parenting: from panic, not presence.

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When my son was finally diagnosed, I was completely thrown.  The assessments, the labels, the reports filled with deficits and recommendations… it was like the ground shifted under my feet.

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I went into overdrive. Research, therapies, specialist appointments.  I was determined to do everything “right.” But underneath it all was fear.  Fear that I was failing him. That I wasn’t enough. That maybe he was “too much” for the world.

 

Meanwhile, our days were filled with meltdowns, shutdowns, resistance to routine, constant negotiating.

And behind closed doors, I was losing it too.  Snapping, crying in the car on my way to work, lying awake at night Googling solutions I was too tired to implement.

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Then one day, in the middle of one of his storms, I realised: I was in my own storm, too.  I was dysregulated, depleted, and trying to hold everything together by sheer force.

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That moment changed everything.

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I started turning inward.  I learned how to regulate myself first.  To breathe through the chaos, to pause before reacting, to meet his intensity with calm instead of control. I stopped chasing compliance and started building connection.

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I began to see him clearly.  Not as a problem to solve, but as a whole, wired-differently, deeply feeling human who needed my safety more than my strategies.

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And everything started to shift.  My little boy started to shine – with self-belief and the confidence to take the world by storm.  He was finally stepping into who he was always meant to be.

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Now, I help other parents do the same.

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This work isn’t about fixing kids.  It’s about seeing them fully.  And it starts with you, how you steady yourself, how you show up in the hard moments, how you build a home where your child feels safe being exactly who they are.

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I believe our NeuroSpicy kids are here to do big things. 

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But first, they need us to stop reacting from panic, and start parenting from presence.

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I’ve walked this road.  I know how lonely it can feel.  And I also know how powerful it is to feel seen, supported, and no longer alone.

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That’s why I do this work. Because this path changed everything.  For my child, and for me.