Echo and Grow

02/09/2025

I tried to keep this poem short, it didn’t work- the end. 🤣❤️🫂

The Weight of Rejection

Rejection does not land softly here.
It does not brush the skin like a passing breeze,
it tears through the chest like thunder,
like a door slamming shut
in a house you thought was safe.

This is Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria,
a storm that does not ask permission,
a shadow that lengthens with every glance,
every pause,
every word that might mean “you are not enough.”

For the autistic soul,
already translating a world built in riddles,
every silence feels like a verdict.
Every crooked smile, every delayed reply,
becomes a mirror that whispers,
you got it wrong again.

For the ADHD heart,
already burning too brightly,
criticism is not a bruise but a wildfire.
A single spark,
a look, a sigh,
a sentence meant to guide-
becomes an inferno of shame,
consuming what little confidence remained.

It is not weakness.
It is not overreaction.
It is a nervous system screaming,
an alarm that cannot be silenced,
a body that confuses rejection with danger,
and danger with devastation.

So we retreat.
Or we people-please until our edges blur.
Or we lash out in desperation,
trying to smother the pain before it swallows us whole.

And yet-
beneath the rawness,
beneath the trembling fear of abandonment,
there is a truth too often hidden:
we feel this deeply
because we love this deeply.
Because connection matters to us
more than anyone dares to imagine.

What heals us is not correction,
not “toughening up,”
but softening down.
Gentle voices, clear words,
relationships that do not twist into riddles,
hands that hold steady
when we brace for the push away.

RSD is not our flaw.
It is our proof:
that our hearts are wired to care,
that our longing for belonging burns bright,
even when the world tells us
we are too much,
or never enough.

So if you love us,
love us loudly.
Anchor us with truth,
with tenderness,
with the reassurance that rejection
is not the end of our story.

For though rejection may arrive like thunder,
we are not built of glass.
We are oceans,
we are galaxies,
we are hearts that ache and break
and still choose to rise-
to trust, to love,
to try again.

With All my Love, Michaela ❤️🫂

22/08/2025

How social media works

—-

You:

“I’m going to eat a biscuit 🙂”

—-

The replies:

“But I don’t like biscuits! 😡”

“You shouldn’t eat that type of biscuit, you should eat this type of biscuit instead”

“Biscuits are bad for you”

“Allow me to educate you about biscuits. You probably don’t know this but…”

“You should make your own biscuits instead”

“I just had some vegetables from my vegetable garden, much better than biscuits!”

“I’m better than you at eating biscuits”

“Fake!”

“Wrong!”

“I actually did my PHD on biscuits so I’m more qualified than you to talk about biscuits”

“Alright for some!!! Some of us can’t afford biscuits!!!”

“Why am I seeing this on my feed?”

“That’s not how you spell biskuits”

“My great grandmother actually invented biscuits”

“No, sorry, I do not want diabetes thank you very much. Do you have diabetes? I bet you have diabetes.”

“How are you not dead?”

“Unfollowed”

“Where can I buy biscuits please?” (It’s written in the post, and the answer is “all supermarkets”)

“What are these biscuits called?”

“Processed rubbish!!!!! 😡”

“Do you mean cookies?”

“I’m not reading all that”

“I haven’t eaten biscuits since I saw a YouTube video about biscuits and saw they’re made with horse poo”

“I haven’t eaten a biscuit since being diagnosed with gout in 1972”

“Recipe please”

“That’s not a biscuit, it’s a cake, there was a famous court case that said…”

“I know this is meant to be a lighthearted post about biscuits, but I’m going to talk about something incredibly serious and off-topic instead…”

“So?”

“I find this post offensive”

“🤢🤮🤮”

“Why?”

“No banana for scale?”

“Where is the plate from please?”

“Hello kind stranger. I came across your profile and I must say I hold a deep respect for you and your content. Please can you DM so we can start a mutual friendship. Bless you dear. 🌹”

“You need to get out more mate”

“Biscuits were better in my day”

“Oh I love biscuits! Great post! Thank you! Love your content!”

17/08/2025

LESS THAN 1 WEEK TO GO!
The countdown is officially on. Just 5 more days until our Grand Opening, and we can’t wait to welcome you.
Come meet our amazing team, say hello to our animals, and explore the beauty of our site.

Mark your calendar
Opening Day:23rd August 12-6pm
Location: Silverapot close, Rainham, Kent ME8 8JR

Stay tuned this week as we share sneak peeks, fun facts, and a few surprises leading up to the big day. We can’t wait to see you there.

17/08/2025

The Daffodil Project is a new provision in Rainham, look at all of the wonderful things they are creating!

14/08/2025

Remember, you are amazing, unique and will achieve great things.

07/08/2025

It’s so common for children to struggle to communicate what has occurred at school, be that positive or negative interactions.

This poster reframes the ‘how was your day at school?’ And asks specific questions that you are more likely to get a response to.

04/08/2025

Women who experience late diagnosis often go through waves of emotions, feelings of emptiness and grief. I thought this poster summed it up beautifully.

21/07/2025

12/07/2025

Let’s teach our children (and friends) to be resilient and not let peoples behaviour impact their kindness.

12/07/2025

Spreading awareness on a subject that needs to be spoken about- restrictive eating/ARFID/ selective eating.

I could taste everything, the tiny bit of spice or different oil, perhaps an onion had been chopped near or hands had held a garlic or a pepper had touched my plate.
I definitely knew when it was a different brand of bread, the maturity of cheese was not mild and it was sickly, creamy butter not margarine.
Sometimes I thought about who had touched my food, thought about their fingernails, or made the mistake of looking at the dishcloth, took too long letting myself imagine what else had been on the work surface.
Smells, tastes could all be contaminated.
I felt my myself closing off, down.
For others this was all a breeze, bread was bread. Being made food by others, a treat.
But I knew there were too many variables when I was already in unknown territory and now more things were out of my control.
So the safest bet? I would just not eat.
That feeling of empty, light combined with being able to have found a way out would almost feel okay (strength) until I would notice other stuff harder to deal with. I would cry, get angry and feel exhausted. So while this worked it only worked to a point because the longer I didn’t eat the more I shut down and out I became until nothing was going to cut it, I’d gone beyond.
And then the worst thing would happen, people would make a big deal out of it.
Offer a ton of suggestions, exposing my favourite/safe foods to everyone and therefore sabotaging what was mine.
No. I will not eat then.
What I needed was home, my parents where no one fussed or talked about it.
I needed it where it all tasted, almost of nothing as it tasted fine.
I could breath, I was left to it.
I was free.
Home was not talking about it, not highlighting it.
Eventually over time without the pressure or attention I began to try new stuff.
Never ever (still never ever) because someone suggests it.
Still always because I want to.
Forever alongside my safe foods.
But without attention, without concern, panic, whispers.
I can now eat.

Illustration from Thumbsucker by Eliza Fricker

11/07/2025

Our post on SUPPORTING A CHILD WHO MASKS WITH AFTER SCHOOL RESTRAINT COLLAPSE has gone viral this week.

To that end I have condensed the information into a handy visual - save it on your phone, print it off as a reminder.

Our 'Masking, The Toolkit' is available now as a downloadable resource from The Contented Child at https://thecontentedchild.co.uk/product/masking-the-toolkit/

Niki ❤️