Emotional Overwhelm

This week has been stressful. War and Order, the game I enjoy and play, became a second workplace. I’m the alliance leader. We’ve had a few personal dramas that match many real life communities. Personalities collided, tempers rose, and I found myself dealing with conflict from every direction over three weeks. I managed it at the start, yet, by the third week, the emotional cost built quietly. Arguments and defensiveness just kept hitting me. My normal conflict diplomacy wasn’t working. I reached the point where I knew I needed to step back, regulate, and delegate to my friends, but emotional overwhelm sat underneath it all.

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made Report: What you need to know

The Church of England released the Fearfully and Wonderfully Made report in February this year, but I know many have still not read it, even though it’s one of the most important pieces of research on disabled and neurodivergent clergy the Church has ever commissioned. It shapes how I live as a disabled Christian with FSHD and autism, my children and disabled friends lives, my calling and ministry, and how I navigate the ordination process.

I’ve mentioned it many times here but I realised I’ve never actually broken it down or explained it in a way that helps people understand what it says, why it matters, and how it affects real lives for those who haven’t read the seventy‑three page document. This post is my attempt to do that. A guide for anyone who wants to understand disability wellbeing in the Church of England.

Neurodiversity and the Church: Archbishop Sarah Mullally's Synod Statement

This week Archbishop Sarah Mullally shared that neurodiversity is a gift, not a problem to be solved, while speaking at Synod about the need for neurodivergent-led training, structural change, and a network of Neurodiversity Champions across every diocese. She spoke openly about her dyslexia, the assumptions made about her, and the way she learned to see herself as intentionally made by God. Reading this felt like a blessing that landed at a time when I’m still processing my own ASD diagnosis, the battles it took to get it, and everything it has reframed, especially as I received my ASD assessment report the same day this article was published.

When Driving Stops

I reached a point recently where driving no longer feels like the right option. It's been coming for a while. I didn’t want to admit it at first, since driving has always been part of my independence. It's how I've gone to church, grown ministry, supported youth, attended ordination meetings and school visits, and everything else that fills my week. It was the way my long distance relationship lasted with Hannah, how I maintained access to the boys, and how we’ve gone on all our adventures over the years. It was freedom, routine, and normal. It’s not normal anymore.

When Honour Meets Barriers

Tomorrow we gather to honour my curate, Sue at her thanksgiving service. 175 people have signed up. Our church fits around 140 – 150, and more will likely arrive. The hall across the road is our overflow space, livestreaming the service for those unable to fit in the church. It will be a big day. It should be. She was an incredible presence.

Privilege: The Invisible Barrier

Having a disability means I see other people’s privilege. It’s not loud or aggressive. It sits in the background of everyday life, unnoticed by the people who benefit from it, have no idea they do it, and pretend they don’t when they do something wrong. It is often an invisible barrier.

Disability and Relationships

A recent discussion thread in an online disability community has made me think about the relationship between disability and the people around me. 

Ministry of Sound Classical at Rochester Castle

There are nights that stay with you. Friday night was one of them. Hannah and I went to the Ministry of Sound Classical at Rochester Castle Grounds, and it was everything we hoped it would be. The setting, the atmosphere, the orchestra, the crowd, the energy.

Midge Passed Her Driving Test

When your child reaches a milestone, you feel it in a way that sits somewhere between pride, relief, and joy. Last week my amazing daughter, Midge passed her driving test. I knew she would. She was ready long before the certificate arrived, yet hearing her say the words still felt like a moment worth holding.

Presence vs Participation

Over the last few months I’ve written about equality and equity, accessibility and usability, independence and autonomy, and survivors and victims. These are topics that people often confuse, yet the gap between them is where disabled people live. Those gaps are important. The difference needs to be discussed. This time, I wanted to discuss presence vs participation.

Finally Understanding Myself: My ASD Assessment and Diagnosis

Anyone who has followed my mental health posts will know the journey hasn’t been simple. I’ve shared my breakdown in 2012, the years of rebuilding, the Dependent Personality Disorder diagnosis, the slow climb back to stability, and the long process of understanding who I am. I’ve also written about communication differences, sensory needs, routines, overwhelm, and the traits I recognised in Will and James long before I recognised them in myself. It all led to this moment.

World FSHD Day: The Day After

World FSHD Day 2026 is over. Many people worldwide with FSHD, spread across countries, cultures, and communities came together for one cause. Not all 8,000, but enough to make me feel united. They shared their stories, photos, orange‑segment smiles, and honesty. I have loved it. I’m not alone.

World FSHD Day: A 2026 Reflection

World FSHD Day has arrived again. Despite posting on Facebook each year, I last wrote about it here in 2018, and looking back now is like opening a time capsule. I knew my condition and feared the future but didn’t understand it yet. I walked, even when it was difficult, constantly fell, experienced pain and vulnerability, and felt trapped in my body. 

My FSHD is different now. I no longer walk. I still fall, but it’s progressed to my core. The pain, vulnerability and trapped feeling have deepened in ways I never imagined. Everything I was worried about has now occurred and I've been living with it for several years. That’s the nature of FSHD. It’s not just degeneration, but progression.

Stories That Were Never Asked

My dad’s eighty‑sixth heavenly birthday was last Wednesday. I didn’t mark it. I didn’t post on Facebook, visit the crematorium, post here, or even tell the kids. The words never came. I spent the day and the days after remembering him quietly instead.

Independence vs Autonomy

Since college matured my writing, I’ve been revamping old blog posts, but it’s been hard seeing how my disability degeneration has stripped my independence.

Independence is important, but not as much as autonomy. Many able‑bodied people treat independence as the goal for disabled people and often misunderstand it in disability conversations. Autonomy, as control, choice, dignity, and the right to shape your own life, should be the real goal. 

What do disabled people mean by autonomy?

Struggling to Sleep

Night often means rest. It used to mean the end of the day, the quiet moment when everything slowed down, but that hasn’t been my story for the last twenty years.  

Living With Pain In A Body That Will Not Settle

Pain has been part of my life for thirty years. I thought I understood it. The aches felt sharp and heavy and I believed that was as bad as it could get. I was wrong. The more my FSHD progresses, the more pain changes. It’s now deeper, constant, and woven into every part of my body.

When Service Styles Clash and Church Identity Drifts

I’ve seen my church grow, change, survive and thrive over the last sixteen years, but recently I've seen how fragile our identity has become when different backgrounds form and push different expectations of church and service styles. When those expectations clash with other leaders and congregation members, it splits the Church’s direction.

A Positive School Meeting

Two weeks ago I wrote about an incident with a staff member at Arty’s school. A week later, after my complaint, I met with the Head teacher. It wasn’t the best day. Miss L, offered to move the meeting but I wanted it done.

My nerves weren’t just about Arty or what happened that morning. After eighteen months of fighting for James, I knew school meetings can turn against you fast. I’ve watched schools hide mistakes rather than fix them. I’ve seen the system break my child. Those experiences entered this room with me.

This meeting felt different. They had a staff member take notes because I cannot. That alone was a small victory after everything that happened with James’ school.

Stepping Into Disability Communities

I have spent most of my life disabled. Thirty years of muscle loss, pain, fatigue, and the slow shift of what my body can and can’t do. Thirty years of adapting, slowly deteriorating, and surviving. A life my children have grown up around. Yet I’m not part of any disability community outside the one we've built at church. Not properly.

I have changed that recently. My faith, knowledge, ministry, and life have grown. I am halfway through the ordination process. I’m shaping my calling and building a disability ministry. I have learnt more about disability theology, disability law, the Equality Act, SEN law, the difference between equality and equity, and the lived experience of disabled adults and children. I have been advocating for years, writing openly, and supporting others, but something shifted. I needed to go deeper and belong somewhere that understood my world.