From Awareness to Acceptance

Last weekend, I went to the Dyslexia Fair at Bell House in Dulwich, London, and I took part in pretty much everything I could — exploring both the indoor and outdoor spaces.

There was a wonderful selection of books, rooms with games and activities exploring writing, reading and maths skills, as well as self-regulation, turn-taking and much more. I attended talks and also took part in the experiential trail in the Bell House garden.

The garden was certainly wonderful. And, to go back to something that is particularly close to my heart: the effect of green spaces on the nervous system.
There is growing evidence that spending time in natural environments can have measurable physiological effects, including reducing markers of stress such as cortisol and lowering heart rate. A systematic review and meta-analysis of more than 100 studies, for example, found that exposure to green space was associated with lower salivary cortisol and heart rate, alongside other indicators of physiological stress.
The evidence specifically relating to neurodivergent people is still developing, but recent reviews are beginning to explore how access to nature may support wellbeing, stress management, sensory regulation and other outcomes for autistic and neurodivergent children and young people.
Anyway, this is why I loved seeing the garden as part of the Dyslexia Fair. After all the information, activities and sensory stimulation indoors, having the opportunity to step outside and spend time in a green space felt like the perfect complement to the experience — a place to pause, breathe and regulate before going back inside.

Now back to the fair…there was so much information, presented in so many different formats. I particularly appreciated the hand-drawn infographics. I am so used to seeing AI-generated infographics these days that watching someone create one live, during a talk, was a real WOW moment for me.

For the past three years in Italy, I have been trying to raise awareness about neurodiversity, but I have to say, it has been a rollercoaster.

Every time I introduce myself as neurodivergent, I notice very different reactions. Some people are completely accepting; others clearly don't understand and look at me as if I were a little bit crazy. And, honestly, after experiencing so much judgement and misunderstanding, I have recently found myself starting not to mention that I am neurodivergent.

I don't hide it. But it is no longer part of my introduction.

And yet, at the fair, I experienced something very different. I saw people talking openly about neurodivergence without it becoming the defining feature of who they were. Some of the professionals giving the talks were neurodivergent themselves, and they spoke about it openly and naturally. It wasn't presented as a big announcement or something that needed to be explained or justified — it was simply part of who they were.

Some of them also mentioned, almost as a completely natural part of their story, that they had discovered they were neurodivergent because their children were neurodivergent. There was no hiding, no hesitation, no sense that this was something they needed to keep separate from their professional identity.

I found that incredibly powerful.
It reminded me of how empowered I felt when I was living in a city that acknowledged differences and, rather than seeing them as something to overcome, recognised them as a source of strength.
It made me think about how much can change when something is understood rather than questioned.

On my way back to Italy, I kept thinking about that contrast. What would it take to create more spaces like this? What can we do to make neurodivergence something that people can talk about openly, without fear of being misunderstood or judged?

I have already put together two projects to raise awareness in schools and at university. I have tried to create opportunities for conversations, learning and greater understanding. But so far, I haven't had much luck. I am not asking for funding, yet institutions have other priorities, and sometimes it feels as though even a small step towards awareness is difficult to get off the ground.

Still, the fair reminded me why I started in the first place.

So, what next?

I don't have all the answers yet. But I know that I need to persevere.

So I will.