Our Story

Our Story

Built from fire, laughter, late nights, and one very honest little boy.

🧭 Where It All Began

I grew up in a family full of undiagnosed neurodivergence.
ADHD, dyslexia, sensory chaos — we just didn’t have the words.

I was finally diagnosed with ADHD as an adult, after recognising the signs in my son.

After years of infertility and loss, my partner and I adopted our son — a brave, bright, trauma-touched child whose nervous system had already been through too much.

He was born withdrawing from multiple substances. That shaped his early development, but not his light.

He’s now diagnosed with ADHD, SPD, dyslexia, hypermobility, low muscle tone, and more — each one uncovered through persistence, paperwork, and parental instinct.

🗣️ They Didn’t Believe Me

When he was non-verbal, I asked for help. The GP dismissed me.
I called the cleft palate centre myself. Within minutes, they diagnosed a submucosal cleft.

In 2019, he became dangerously ill.
Doctors didn’t believe anything was wrong — because he was still smiling and walking.

His appendix had ruptured — 11 days earlier.

Two weeks after surgery, it happened again.
Dismissed again.
Emergency surgery, again — for bowel adhesions.

He nearly died. Twice.
Because they didn’t understand how neurodivergent children present pain.

🕯️ Grief on Grief

Shortly after our son came home, we lost his Granny — my partner’s mum — who had waited years to meet him.

Then came more:

  • My father, neurodivergent and adored by my son, entered a care home

  • That same week, my partner’s brother died suddenly

  • In 2024, my father passed away

  • Days later, I was made redundant

  • We lost our rescue dog George, and in March 2025, rescued again — because healing sometimes comes with paws

🧾 The System Wasn’t Made for Families Like Ours

I applied for our first EHCP in 2019. It was refused.
So I fought. Appealed. And won.

Since then, I’ve fought for:

  • Speech support

  • Annual reviews

  • School transitions

  • And every missed provision in between

Local authorities often deny EHCP assessments to delay and discourage.
They count on parents giving up.
I didn’t. And I won’t.

🌶️ The Small Fiery Warrior

The name we gave our son means “small fiery warrior.”
And that’s exactly what he is.

He’s funny, thoughtful, resilient, and joyful — not in spite of what he’s been through, but alongside it.

If you didn’t know his history, you’d just think he’s a chatty little whirlwind.
But like so many neurodivergent kids, he’s an onion — with layers that only reveal themselves when he feels safe.

💬 The Moment That Sparked It All

One day, he said:

“Mum, no one ever says anything good about ADHD.”

That sentence became this brand.

✈️ Why Visibility Still Matters

On a flight, we requested special assistance.
From the galley, a steward said:

“Why does he need that — is he retarded?”

In 2024. Said out loud.

That’s why Neurospicy London exists.

To change language.
To change perception.
To change what kids like ours grow up believing about themselves.

🔧 What We’ve Built

This brand is for:

  • Children who need pride, not pity

  • Adults who’ve only just understood themselves

  • Parents in the hole, with no ladder in sight

  • Neurotypical allies trying to understand

We’ve created:

  • ADHD-friendly planners

  • Merch that starts conversations

  • Resources that reduce isolation

  • And a voice that says:

    “I’ve been in that hole. I know the way out. I’ve got you.”

🤭 PS: I Definitely Have ADHD

You’ve probably figured it out by now — I overshare.
I ramble. I go off on tangents.
But when you’re a SEND parent, sometimes those tangents are the survival guide.

And if telling the truth too loudly helps someone else feel seen —
I’ll keep shouting.

💡 This brand is for all of us.

If there’s a condition, experience, or identity you haven’t seen reflected in our products yet — please reach out.

Whether it’s ADHD, FASD, dyspraxia, acquired neurodivergence, or something no one ever gets right — we want to help you feel represented, celebrated, and included.

Because this isn’t just about our family — it’s about all of us.
No diagnosis required. No questions asked. Just welcome.