I spent today in Cardiff at the National Neurodiversity Show. I listened to and talked with neurodivergent people about their life experiences and advice: some were selling books, inclusive technology, diagnostic services, or neuroinclusive organisations.

The quote above, “You’re not broken, you’re just orbiting differently,” from @beaconwithin, was particularly inspirational. It made me think about a favourite topic to teach Year 5: Earth and Space.

Every person on this planet is taking the same orbit around the sun, though our orbits are different.

• The Speed: Some are fast like Mercury's 88 days; some are like poor neurodivergent Pluto's 248 years.

• The Rotation: Some planets rotate quickly, like Jupiter’s 10 hours, whereas some are slower like retrograde Venus's 243 days.

• The Tilt: Some are tilted at 97°, Uranus, and some are near 0.03°, Mercury.

Stay with me here! In those orbits, we have satellites of our own: emotional intensity, executive function, sensory sensitivity, rituals and routines, interests, and sense of self.

Some "satellites" orbit closer, while some orbit further away. These characteristics create that spiky profile which acts as our solar system. That system may be one of Autism, ADHD, Dyslexia, Dyspraxia, Tourette’s, Down Syndrome, and so forth. We have got to accept our own journey so we can advocate for ourselves.

My own orbit has recently taken me beyond the path I was on. Sadly, tomorrow, 01/05/26, my contract officially ends. Unless I get a phone call or email in the next five hours, I will join the orbit occupied by 70% of the autistic population in the UK. This is an actual figure quoted by the National Autistic Society: Unemployment.

I don’t know what the next path my orbit will take. Hopefully, I’ll get a job bringing money soon. Am I scared? Yes. Am I hopeful better things await? Absolutely.

I am not broken. Watch this space.

Some of you may notice that the blog sequence has skipped from 6 to 8. I have chosen to keep Blog Post 7 hidden away for now. While the "Authentic Voice" is vital, the "Strategic Voice" knows when to wait for the right conditions to share certain stories. 

However, the conclusion of that untold story remains the same: we need role models who are allowed to be active, to participate, and to show that being autistic is not a flaw. It's not a piece of paper. It is a gift. My battle to stay in the classroom might be officially over, but my work as an advocate (the catalyst) is only just beginning.

The Restless Vista

One of my greatest pleasures in life is hiking. I can spend hours walking, getting lost in the rhythm of nature. My favourite hikes always involve an Edge or a Peak: heading to the end of a cliff to stare out at the sea, or climbing to the top of a hill where the vista stretches out beneath you.

If there are waves crashing against the shore or a sunset casting that changing orange glow over the landscape, that is where you will find me. During the pandemic in 2020-21, when restrictions were lifted, I managed to complete 91% of the South West Coast Path. Just not in one go. 

The Conflict of Stillness

Despite my love for these places, I cannot sit still for long. Last weekend, I was on a short Sunday afternoon walk around Shearwater Lake with my dad. As we sat on a bench, a realisation hit me: I just wanted to keep walking. I needed to keep moving.

My dad wanted to stay put, take in the lake, and perhaps catch a glimpse of a kingfisher. Now, I have seen that lake many times. It is beautiful. The woods are calming. I enjoy the walk. But have I ever seen a kingfisher? No. Because to see a kingfisher, you have to be still. You have to wait.

My family has faced this dilemma for 31 years, keep moving because I am restless, or stay put. Yet, I can sit for minutes (I wouldn’t say hours!) at a time staring at a sunset or a clifftop. I need to watch the whole sunset, see it through to its conclusion, and watch the landscape change colour.

The Parallel Circuit

I realised this isn't a lack of patience. It is a need for stimulation and a need for "Newness."

When I am moving, my brain is occupied by the changing environment. If I sit still in a place that isn't providing a complete narrative (like a sunset finishing its cycle), my other thoughts catch up with me. The Parallel Circuit in my mind becomes overloaded with internal data.

Watching a sunset or waves crashing is a dynamic, high-stimulation event. Waiting for a kingfisher is a static, low-stimulation event. For my restless mind, the walk itself becomes the Catalyst. It provides the kinesthetic input I need to keep my brain running smoothly.The dopamine hit. Yes, seeing a kingfisher would be an amazing dopamine hit. But is it worth 15 mins of restlessness?  It is the compromise between a mind that needs constant stimulation and a soul that needs peace and rest.

One question that keeps popping up in job applications lately is whether I consider myself disabled and if I need any reasonable adjustments for the interview. Personally, I do not view autism alone as a disability. It is more of a fundamental difference in how the mind processes information. I have noticed that some forms are starting to separate "disability" from "neurodivergence" now. When that second option is available, I always tick it. If it is just the one box, I feel obliged to tick it but then clarify in the "other" section that I am diagnosed with an Autistic Spectrum Condition. I use ASC rather than ASD because I find the term "disorder" disheartening.

I have started asking for three specific reasonable adjustments in the interview box to ensure my parallel circuit does not blow a fuse.

1. Access to Questions in Advance

I ask for the interview questions, or at least the key themes, at least 24 hours in advance. This allows for scripting so I am not taken aback by sudden questions. Without this, I tend to either waffle on as my brain tries to process every bottom-up detail at once, or I suddenly go completely quiet while I wait for the data to download.

2. The Swivel Factor: Vestibular and Proprioceptive Seeking

I request a swivel chair or an office chair rather than a rigid, fixed-back chair. I need that freedom for movement and stimming. It actually surprised me when someone recently pointed out that I simply do not sit still. When I am in a rigid chair, I swing back all the time.

It turns out this is called vestibular and proprioceptive seeking. Essentially, my brain is looking for sensory input to understand where my body is in space. It explains so much about my life, including why I always need the window seat on a plane. It isn't just about the beauty of the world beneath, it is about having those additional surfaces to rest and lean against. My brain needs that physical pressure to feel grounded.

It made me look back at comments from my students when I was teaching. They noticed it too. I was always swinging on a lab stool or sitting cross-legged, even if it was a bit of a "bad example" for health and safety! I think that is why my favourite classrooms when I was at school were science and art rooms. Those stools were just more comfortable for my brain. My tutor was an art teacher, and despite my lack of skill in drawing, I always felt comfortable in that classroom. I think the stools had a lot to do with it.

Even at my last teaching school, there was a wheely office chair in the lab. I never used it in favour of a lab stool because I was worried I would just wheel around all day and break it. I also didn't want to encourage bad habits for the kids! Turns out I did this anyway with the stools! Whoops- sorry if you have taken over my classes recently! 

3. Fiddling and Sensory Needs

The third adjustment is being allowed a fiddle toy or something to keep my hands busy. I have recently realised that I always fiddle with something. In social scenarios, I tear the labels off bottles or fiddle with candles and flowers. I fiddle with my sleeves or my phone.

This sensory seeking shows up at home too. When I am in the home office, I sit with my feet on the wall. I have actually peeled away quite a lot of the wallpaper in the process. When I sit on the sofa reading, I need to stretch out with my feet above me on the back of the sofa. I do sit in some very odd positions. Sorry, Dad!

All of this is stuff I will be discussing with my GP when I get referred for an ADHD assessment. It certainly gets my mind thinking about how these quirks are actually my brain's way of trying to regulate its own chemistry all this time!