This week marks Neurodiversity Awareness Week, highlighting a range of conditions including dyslexia, dyspraxia, dyscalculia, dysgraphia, Tourette's, ASD, ADHD, and autism.
I live with dyspraxia, a type of neurodiverge that is known for impairing physical coordination. It's believed that dyspraxia affects between 3% and 5% of the UK population, a statistic shared by 'EastEnders' actress Natalie Cassidy.
Cassidy recently opened up about her own experiences: "In 2025 I think you'd call me dyspraxic. I think if I went and sorted it all out, I think I've got a bit of dyspraxia. If I go down the stairs, I have to prise myself at the top before I go. It's a balance issue. I am a wobbler."
Celebrities like Cara Delevingne, Florence Welch, and Daniel Radcliffe also navigate life with this condition. Although there are ways to manage its effects, dyspraxia remains without a cure.
Support for neurodivergent individuals like myself was sparse at school. My recollection is that accommodations were limited to extra exam time and weekly typing sessions, with little exploration into how being dyspraxic or dyslexic affected us beyond academics.
My intention isn't to disparage my old school; rather, it's an acknowledgment of the era's limitations. I'm confident that they weren't unique in their approach and that today, the same institution likely possesses a far greater understanding than it did over a decade ago.
What changed my life
It wasn't until I left school that a significant event altered my understanding of dyspraxia and led me to realise that my struggles extended beyond the classroom. Upon entering university, it dawned on me that dyspraxia didn't merely affect my physical coordination but also impacted my social skills.
This revelation highlighted our limited comprehension of dyspraxia. Here's a prime example. During my late teens and early twenties, I found nightclubs utterly unbearable.
Within minutes of stepping inside, I would feel an overwhelming urge to leave. Although I found this peculiar, I gradually accepted it until I discovered a charity – the Dyspraxia Foundation - which provided a wealth of clarity.
This charity, now unfortunately defunct, explained that some individuals with dyspraxia, when entering bustling and noisy environments, involuntarily attempt to process every single sound. This sensory overload can overwhelm their brain, prompting them to exit.
Picture being in a nightclub, and imagine your brain striving to register everything from the DJ's music to the clinking glasses at the bar, the surrounding conversations, and all the ambient noise in between.
In an attempt to address the issue, I purchased earplugs, hoping that if my brain was aware it couldn't pick up every sound, it wouldn't strive to do so.
The strategy proved successful, transforming what was once a source of tension into a place of celebration, just like it was for everyone else. Additionally, my tinnitus ceased to worsen.
However, dyspraxia extended beyond nightclubs and extra time in exams. Delving deeper into dyspraxia support sites and forums, I discovered explanations for feelings I had experienced, such as anxiety and low self-esteem, which could be partially attributed to dyspraxia.
With the recent closure of the Dyspraxia Foundation, Britain's primary dyspraxia charity, there are limited consistent resources for those seeking information about the effects of dyspraxia beyond physical manifestations and into behavioural aspects. More information can be found on the NHS website.
There should be services available for neurodivergent individuals, especially considering the attacks on DEI programmes in the USA. History has shown us time and again that neurodivergent individuals not only belong in this world but also have the potential to bring about significant change.
Moreover, in the face of such resistance, it's crucial that we strive to establish safe environments where neurodivergent individuals can freely express and be themselves. The UK holds the potential to become a sanctuary within the neurodivergent sphere for those who not only act but also think differently.
