Meet our founder

Discovering my perfect firstborn baby was ‘supposedly’ not quite so perfect was initially devastating and difficult to come to terms with.

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My son's arrival and early years felt like life as I knew it had stopped. But a new one began.

It’s been tough, yes. But I’ve learned more from Aiden then I could ever have imagined. He’s been my greatest teacher.

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Now in his 20s, I feel lucky, and grateful, to be his mum. Because guess what? As it turns out, my ‘not so perfect’ baby was perfect all along. He just needed the right support and the right environment in which to thrive.

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 My journey has seen me fight the education, welfare, and healthcare systems – I’m still fighting systems for him every single day.

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The early years

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In the beginning, I hit more walls than a battering ram. I knew Aiden needed support, but I didn’t know what that support was - or how to get it. You can’t ask for help when you don’t even know what help exists. And even when it does exist, and your child qualifies, why aren’t you told? And why, without fail, must you have to fight for it?

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We saw more professionals than I can count. Eventually, Aiden received a diagnosis of autism at the age of six. His profile includes Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA), dyslexia, and learning disabilities.

The diagnosis was a double-edged sword. Deep down I already knew he was autistic, and I felt relieved the professionals finally agreed. But I was also crushed. I feared for his future, for mine, and for our family’s.

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We went home with that diagnosis. We waited. But nothing changed. Aiden sill behaved in ways we didn’t understand. Our lives remained upside down. I believed the diagnosis would be like Charlie’s golden ticket to the chocolate factory; that it would open doors to support. But it didn’t.

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If you’re awaiting diagnosis for your child, keep going. Diagnosis is important. But please let me help you come to terms with this right now: you won’t wake up the next morning as the Waltons.

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And the fight for services? It never ends. I’d liken it to the Olympic hurdles. Diagnosis is the first hurdle. You have to clear it, because you can’t continue until you do. But there are still nine more hurdles to go before you even begin to secure some of the support your child needs.

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The messy middle

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Over the years, more professionals came and went. Many said, ‘You’re doing a great job’. But if that were true, why weren’t we happy? Why did I feel like my family was falling apart? My son’s violent outbursts led to school exclusions. Outings were a nightmare. Friendships disappeared. How could this be “doing a great job?”

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​​Eventually, I realised something painful:

• The support Aiden needed simply didn’t exist

• There was no quick fix because my son wasn’t broken - he was simply different.

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And slowly, painfully, I came to understand this:

• Nothing was going to change my son.

• No stand-alone therapy held a magic bullet.

• If I wanted a happier, more harmonious life… I had to change me.

 

A turning point

Ultimately, this is what I came to learn:

• I needed the support.

• I needed to learn how to parent differently.

• I needed to understand how being autistic affected Aiden – and our family.

• I needed to figure out how to navigate society, including the health, education, and welfare systems.

• I needed to create the kind of environment where he could thrive.

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And you know what? I did. And he did thrive. Don’t believe me? Just take a look at what he’s up to now:

👉 See Aiden’s Story

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That journey inspired me to go back to ‘school’ – to study, learn, and put my experience into a wider context. So I could help others leapfrog some of the heartache and hurdles I faced.

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The present

 

Today me, my husband, our four children, and two dogs living in beautiful Cornwall. Sounds idyllic, right? But you already know it’s not. It’s not a fairytale. My house is a tip. The washing basket’s overflowing.  There are locks on our fridge and food cupboards. But we’ve found our happy.

 

We often eat at the table together, laugh together, and enjoy each other’s company - as long as you’re happy with pizza, pasta, or chicken nuggets, and can chat about football, surfing, politics, Strictly or X Factor! Life today is unrecognisable from those early years.

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If I have one regret, it’s that I wish I’d known what I needed to know much earlier. A ‘perfect’ life is much more attainable when you realise ‘perfect’ is subjective. What matters is finding your version of perfect – not someone else’s.

 

If you take anything from my story, let it be this:

1. Forget the “should”.

Don’t waste energy conforming to what others expect or what society tells you “should” be happening. That energy is far better spent on determining what’s right for you and your family.

2. Take ownership of your happiness.

I blamed a lot of professionals for their lack of input as the reason we were unhappy along the way. But in the end, it was only when I took responsibility for my own happiness that things began to change. When I did, our whole family’s happiness improved.

3. There is always hope.

No matter how bleak things fell today, a full, valued, happy life is possible. You don’t need me to get there – I worked it out, eventually, on my own. But it’s a long and lonely road, and I wish I’d had someone with my current knowledge by my side from the start.

 

Why I became a coach and founded NeuroHappiness

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I created NeuroHappiness because I came to realise that childhood is short – and precious.

And I don’t want you to spend as much time as I did feeling stressed, lost, or sad. You, your child, and your whole family deserve a chance at something harmonious. Something happier. If that’s something you want – and I sound like someone who might help you get there – I’d love to chat.

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