Healing from the Hut - and Why I identify as Neurodivergent.
It all started with a dual process. At the time, I was supporting a teacher in supervision who was navigating his recent diagnosis of neurodivergence. Through our work together, he felt empowered to share his diagnosis with senior leaders and adjust his working hours in a way that supported his challenges rather than masked them. Watching him take that step gave me pause. If he could make changes to better honour his needs, then why couldn’t I?
That moment became a mirror. It encouraged me to accept my own challenges and adapt my working week in ways that truly support me. And so, I submitted a statutory request for flexible working. On paper, it was simple: permission to reduce my working hours, so I could leave early and complete my notes/PPA away from a busy school setting. In practice, it was an act of self-acceptance.
The beach hut has since become a special space for me. With no WiFi, no constant interruptions, and nothing but the sound of the waves, it’s where I find calm and clarity. It acts as a container for the kind of deep and creative work that would otherwise feel scattered or overwhelming.
For me, neurodivergence is a way of honouring the fact that, just like our fingerprints, no two brains are the same. Each of us has unique neural pathways that shape how we think, feel, and experience the world. In my case, my brain sometimes works in ways that bring challenges, and sometimes in ways that spark deep creativity. Those struggles are real: attention, concentration, memory, processing speed, sensory overload. These can make everyday work tasks harder than they might be for others.
But the story doesn’t end there, because neurodivergence also brings strengths. I am creative, always brimming with ideas, and able to see things holistically and deeply. I can sit with complexity, notice patterns, and make sense of things in a way that helps me connect with the children and families I work with. I don’t just skim the surface—I work in depth, with empathy and insight, to support them. I find myself drawn to the word neurodivergent rather than using specific labels like ADHD or Highly Sensitive Person. It feels like the language that fits me best—though I recognise that everyone relates to these terms differently, and each choice is equally valid.
That’s why the beach hut isn’t about retreating—it’s about creating a space where my challenges are managed and my strengths can shine. I recognise it’s a privilege to have access to such a space, especially since this is the unpaid part of my work. But it’s also an example of what happens when we give ourselves permission to adapt, to ask for what we need, and to shape environments where we can thrive.
For me, being neurodivergent isn’t only about naming the challenges. It’s about embracing the whole picture—the struggles, the creativity, the depth, the ways of seeing the world that are uniquely mine. And sometimes, that whole picture comes into focus best in a little hut by the sea, with nothing but the sound of waves and a pile of notes finally ready to be written.
P.S
Although it looks like it, I am not picking my nose at the end of this video. I am doing alternate nostril breathing (Nadi Shodhana). It is a yogic practice designed to bring balance and integration to the mind and body. By gently alternating the breath between the left and right nostrils, it helps harmonize the two sides of the nervous system, calm mental chatter, and restore a sense of clarity and wholeness.
✨ A Little Note on Privacy
To keep things safe and respectful, I’ve changed names and certain details when I write about people or situations here. This way, the stories can be shared without revealing anyone’s personal identity.