13/06/2026
If you’re a mum of an autistic child heading towards secondary school, you’re already carrying a knot of fear in your stomach about what’s coming next.
Trying to stay positive for your child while privately wondering:
How will they cope?
Will school understand them?
What if everything falls apart?
Meanwhile, you’re still expected to hold it all together.
Trying to stay calm in meetings.
Trying not to cry in the car afterwards.
Trying to hold everything together for your child while your own anxiety is through the roof.
This is what so many of us do as mums to autistic children, isn’t it?
I did it for years.
And I still see so many other mums doing it now.
This is exactly why I do what I do as The Autistic School Transition Therapist.
I’ve sat on both sides of the fence.
Before becoming a mum, I spent 14 years working with children, including 12 years in SEND provision.
Then I became the parent of a child who didn’t fit neatly into the boxes schools and professionals tried to squeeze him into.
I tried to do everything “right.”
To be a good mum.
To listen to the professionals.
To put the boundaries and behaviour strategies in place.
And when those strategies didn’t work, I listened when professionals told me:
“You must try harder.”
“You’re not doing it properly.”
“You’re getting it wrong.”
All while my instincts were screaming at me to stop and truly listen to my child.
The inner conflict was exhausting.
Being made to feel like you’re failing, while deep down knowing your child simply isn’t coping.
Trying to follow professional advice while watching my child struggle more and more.
I carried that weight for years.
Trying my hardest.
Trying not to let anyone down.
The professionals.
My family.
Myself.
Until eventually, I couldn’t carry it anymore.
By Year 5, we had reached breaking point.
And hanging over everything was one terrifying thought:
How on earth is my child going to survive secondary school?
The transition to secondary school felt like a huge black cloud hanging over us.
As the pressures at school increased, everything escalated.
Every day felt more desperate.
I was terrified.
How would he cope in secondary school?
Would he disappear under the radar?
Would school completely break him?
And how could I spend the next six years forcing my child into an environment I knew was tearing him apart?
I was exhausted. Burnt out. Running on empty.
People would say:
“I don’t know how you do it.”
The truth is, I didn’t know either.
I just knew I had to keep going.
Thankfully, things eventually changed.
It took time out of education, a long battle, and a tribunal.
And although the battles still continue at times, I don’t let myself think too much about what might have happened if I hadn’t finally realised something had to change.
But through all of it, I felt desperately alone.
Yes, there were a few special people who listened, believed me, and tried to understand.
But no one truly got it.
And this is still one of the biggest things mums tell me now:
“No one understands.”
There’s plenty of advice.
Plenty of judgement.
Plenty of people telling you where you’re going wrong.
But very few people who genuinely listen.
When professionals tell you:
“You need a parenting course.”
“You need to control your child.”
“Our strategies work, so you must be doing something wrong.”
You quietly absorb the blame, guilt, and shame.
You start questioning yourself constantly.
Wondering if you really are the problem.
When schools say things like:
“Just drag them in wearing pyjamas if you have to.”
(Yes, a real mum was actually told this.)
You carry that pain silently.
And when you’re lying awake at 3am, worrying:
Will secondary school break my child?
Will it break me?
Will it break our family?
It can feel like nobody truly understands.
This is why I do what I do.
Because I see you.
I listen.
I understand.
I get it.
You don’t have to explain every little thing to me.
You don’t have to convince me your child is struggling.
And I’m determined to make sure you don’t have to go through this alone.
The transition to secondary school — which begins long before the actual move — is one of the most overwhelming periods many autistic families will face.
I’m here to walk alongside you through it.
Using a combination of therapeutic and practical support I help you navigate school transitions feeling calmer, steadier, and supported — so you can stop feeling like you’re constantly fighting while barely holding yourself together.
I have a few free telephone chat spaces available each month, so if this resonates with you, send me a message and let’s chat.
