Daydawn Therapeutic Services

15/07/2025

Just leaving this image here in response to The Writing Framework released this week.

These X-rays show how a child’s hand physically develops over time; tiny bones still forming, joints still growing strong.

The Writing Framework pushes for formal handwriting from the moment children start school, chasing a target of 75% GLD by 2028. But at what cost?

Writing before children are physically ready risks frustration, poor posture and even long-term aversion to learning.

Children deserve time to build strength, coordination and fine motor skills in a fun and practical way before the pressure to put pencil to paper and cramming EY classrooms with tables and chairs.

Let’s protect the magic of play. That’s where the foundations of real writing are laid—not in data targets and accountability measures which further fill the pockets of those that have a vested interest in pushing this agenda! (a.k.a Dame RWI and Mrs Write Stuff)

Image: bonexray.com

07/07/2025

Safety is important, but it isn’t enough.

I read a lot of people talking about the importance of safety when it comes to autistic children, particularly emotional safety. Often parents are really concerned about whether their child feels safe enough. They worry about encouraging children to do things, in case they don’t feel safe. They stop talking about difficult topics, because they get upset. They don’t try new things, in case it goes wrong.

You seek safety. Things get calmer. That is really important and it’s the first step to finding a different way.

The problem is that in the long term the pursuit of safety can make your world shrink. You stop doing things, because it’s safer not to. You don’t take risks – because it doesn’t feel safe. And the more you worry about emotional safety, the harder it seems to be to find it. The more anxious everyone can become. Weirdly, the more you try to find that emotional safety, the less safe you and your family feel.

Children learn that their emotions are something to be scared of; that it’s better not to test them out. They learn that they aren’t capable, and that they’d better restrict themselves. They learn that the world isn’t full of opportunities that they can go out and explore. They can look out, but it’s too much to try something new.

They’re safe – but that’s all.

They learn that their whole life should be about staying safe, and that limits them.

And that’s why I say, safety is important, but it isn’t enough. Humans need safety and challenge, and to balance the two. Children need to take risks, and sometimes for things to go wrong. They need to do new things, even when it makes them scared. They needs space for change and growth.

Without the challenge, life becomes bland. A padded cage. Safe and comfortable, but that’s all. And it’s not enough. Safety is important, but it’s not enough.

28/06/2025

When parents talk to me about gaming and screens, it’s often about fear. ‘Will they get addicted?’ they ask me. ‘I can’t control my own use, how can a child do it?’. They want me to tell them how to control their children’s screen time without conflict, how to tell them to switch it off without it turning into an argument.

There’s so much fear that we have no time to talk about the benefits. So here are some of the things I see.

I see children who don’t feel competent anywhere else in their lives, feeling good about themselves when they play video games. I ask them about their gaming and they come alive. I download the games myself and we chat about strategy. They often can’t believe an adult is interested.

I see young people who are really isolated, starting to make connections through online gaming. They can start by in-game typing and then move into voice chat. The shared game takes the pressure off, and they can relate.

I meet young people who can regulate their emotions with their tablet, taking some time out in their day to put on headphones and sink into their safe zone, meaning that they can carry on afterwards. It’s such a useful and portable way to take some time out. All that’s necessary is for the adults to understand why it’s important, and to help them find a space to do so.

I do also see young people whose lives are difficult, and they use gaming to avoid their thoughts and feelings. Their parents worry & start to put in bans. The thing is, the gaming is the solution they’ve found, not the cause. Bans won’t solve that, and they can drive wedges between parents and children. It’s the difficult life we need to change, and one way to start is to nurture the relationships with their parents, and to build on the things which are good.

How can parents help their children navigate this complexity? That's what I'm talking about on 10th July in my webinar on autism and screens. Yes it's recorded. Please share if you know parents who might benefit.

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/helping-your-autistic-child-develop-a-healthy-relationship-with-screens-tickets-1362789302489?aff=fb2

20/06/2025

Demand avoidance: It’s not just about autonomy.

Sometimes people say that demand avoidance is really about a ‘drive for autonomy’ and that if only children and teens are given enough autonomy, everything will be fine.

I’m all for autonomy and helping young people be more autonomous. I think it is a fundamental part of what humans need in order to thrive.

But it’s not enough. Autonomy is not enough. And here’s why.

Parents often interpret ‘autonomy’ as ‘doing what their child wants’. It means listening to them when they say No, and giving them as much control as possible over their lives.

But when a child is highly anxious, then what they want is usually to avoid that anxiety. They want to make the feelings go away. They make all their decisions on that basis. Often very clearly and very loudly.

That means that trying to give them autonomy often means that they, and their families, end up doing very little. They say No to everything, and so people give up making suggestions. They get upset whenever something difficult is discussed, and so nothing difficult is ever talked about. They don’t like change, and so no change happens.

It isn’t real autonomy, if your decisions are made on the basis of avoiding anxiety. You’re not able to make genuine decisions, if your guiding principle is ‘how do I make those feelings go away’? And if everyone around you treats you as if it is, then you, and they, get stuck.

So how can we help demand avoidant teens with anxiety? How can we help them gradually expand the parameters of their lives? That’s what I’m talking about in this NEW webinar which takes place tomorrow: Helping Your Demand Avoidant Teen With Anxiety.

Yes it’s recorded and it’s suitable for those with or without a diagnosis.

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/helping-your-demand-avoidant-teen-with-anxiety-tickets-1312091433799?aff=fb6

17/06/2025

I meet many parents who say they have no idea what their children do on their devices, that ‘screen time’ is time for them to get on with other tasks. They treat screens in quite a different way to their children’s other passions. They don’t see it as worthy of their time.

Some of them will say they refuse to pay for games, meaning their children are only able to play ‘free’ games which are advert-heavy and whose game play is usually skewed towards having to buy gems or crystals. This means young people are stuck playing games which are designed to make them spend money, whilst not being able to spend money. A situation designed for frustration. A small amount of money on a high quality game can be well worth the cost.

When I suggest to parents that they spend time with their children on screens, they return surprised. ‘We had no idea that they were doing so many things’ Or ‘they are building games or learning how to code’. It’s no longer the ‘screen time’ fear, it’s real life.

For there’s more to this than games and screens. How we talk about our children’s passions affects our relationship with them. When we demonise screens, we risk demonising the things our children love. We denigrate their choices. We give them the message that the things they value aren’t worth the time, that they can’t be trusted to make decisions.

When we instead join them, we give them the message that we are interested in the things they enjoy. Even if we aren’t interesting in gaming, we can be interested in our young people and what makes them come alive. We can value the joy.

We can learn to play Roblox, or Brawl Stars, or Minecraft, and appreciate the connection that that gives us with our young people. We can ask about their progress and about their new game. We show that we are interested in them.

And from that seed, other things will grow.

09/06/2025

Teenagers are different. They are bigger, but it’s not just about that. They need different things from you.

The early years of parenting pass in a whirlwind of eating and cleaning and toileting and playing – and then when the teenage years arrive, it feels like you’ve entered a different arena. There’s less focus on the practicalities of life (usually) but more focus on the complex stuff. Relationships, emotions, mental health – and the stakes feel higher. When things go wrong, they can go really wrong.

For pressure sensitive teens, all of this can be increased several-fold. Their emotions become more intense. Their behaviour can be extreme. And it’s harder to connect with them than it was before. They won’t play with you anymore. When you ask how they are, you don’t get a response.

Previously available as a live webinar alongside Eliza Fricker, you can now access Low Pressure Parenting for Teens as a course. You’ll learn how to understand what is going on for your teenager, and how to help them through these years. It’s for all parents of teens whose teens react very badly to being told what to do, who can’t be persuaded with rewards and consequences, and for whom, the harder you try to set firm boundaries, the worse it all gets.

It’s just been added to our half price course sale this week and can be accessed through the link in our bio. Please share if you know parents who might benefit.

https://courses.naomifisher.co.uk/offers/LgLTXCm7?coupon_code=NEWCOURSES

Illustration by Eliza Fricker (Missing The Mark)

03/06/2025

When I was thirteen, I started at a new school. The other kids disliked me and called me names. I found the work boring and pointless. I felt like an alien. I dreaded each interminable day. I stopped wanting to go to school. Every Sunday evening I was filled with misery.

If that happened today, they’d say I was anxious about school. I could have been said to have ‘Emotionally Based School Avoidance (EBSA)’ or ‘school anxiety’. Then, it was just called ‘school refusal’.

I was anxious about school, that’s true.

I was anxious about school when I was told that there was no choice but to go every day and that I ‘looked fine when you’re there’. I was anxious when I was told that if I didn’t attend school, I’d have no future. I was anxious when I was told that it was an ‘excellent school’ and that perhaps I just didn’t appreciate my luck.

I was anxious because I felt trapped in a place where I was miserable. There’s nothing wrong with someone who feels anxious in those circumstances. In fact, I’d worry more about someone who DOESN’T feel anxious. Certainly most adults would.

Once I had been defined as ‘anxious’ I could have been sent to see a specialist. I could have been told I had a mental health problem. My hatred of school would have been turned into a problem with me. ‘Successful treatment’ would have meant ‘Back to school’.

And what I would have learnt was that I was the problem. I’ve have learnt to keep quiet and stop telling others how I felt. I’ve have learnt (as I already suspected) that there was something wrong with me, not the school.

In fact I was lucky. That didn’t happen to me. I moved house and changed schools and the next school was different. I felt different almost immediately.

Anxiety is a natural reaction to many circumstances. It’s an emotional response to uncertainty, novelty or lack of safety. It lets us know that extra caution is required. It keeps us alert through hard times. It is useful. We need our anxiety.

Yet with children, we’ve decided that their anxiety is the problem, that it means something is wrong with them. We’ve even told them this, with mental health awareness campaigns on toilet doors and in classrooms. We’ve encouraged them to see their emotional reactions as a sign of dysfunction, as something outside the ordinary. A problem in their heads, rather than a natural reaction to the world.

By turning children’s distress into a mental health problem, we depoliticise it. Instead of asking questions about the school system and whether it is fit for children, we suggest that the problem is our children’s reaction to school.

We’re using ‘anxiety’ to keep children quiet.

We don’t ask whether our schools might be designed in ways which provoke distress and anxiety. We don’t ask if they might be developmentally inappropriate and in need of change. Instead we say that they need counsellors, and mindfulness courses, and emotional regulation apps. Ways to ‘cope’, whilst the system carries on regardless.

If only our children could just stop having those inconvenient emotions, then we could carry on as we were. There would be no need to change anything.

Our children’s reactions are showing us that there’s a problem.
What will it take for us to listen?

(with Eliza Fricker Missing The Mark)

01/06/2025

Exams will never prepare you for life.. Life will.

31/05/2025

Why is it, when we’re told that we have to prepare children for the ‘real world’ it always means making them do unpleasant things?

It means making them get up early every morning, or wear clothes they hate. It means they must be in school every day, even if they aren’t learning anything. It means ‘holding them accountable’ AKA punishment, if they fail to comply with the demands of adults. It makes making them do things they don’t like, without allowing them to stop.

We rarely hear talk about preparing them for a life-time of making meaningful decisions. We don’t talk about how to prepare them for a world in which adults don’t always have the answers. We don’t talk about preparing them for a world where sometimes disobedience is the right choice, and just because something has ‘always been done like this’ doesn’t mean that we should just carry on.

We don’t talk about preparing them for a world where relationships aren’t all based on competition, and where people aren’t ranked according to their predicted exam results.

We don’t talk about how in the ‘real world’ you can choose to do the things you enjoy, and how if you can find work which relates to your interests, you’ll lead a much happier life.

We don’t talk about how in ‘the real world’ if you hate your job, you can try to find another way to earn a living.

The real world isn’t one size fits all.

Why is ‘the real world’ always used as an excuse to control young people – when in the real world, we need people who can resist control and who can break down barriers?

We need to learn how to disagree, and how to challenge authority. Children can’t learn that, when they are being told that compliance is their only option.

In the real world, we’re allowed to ask awkward questions.

Let’s help our children practice that.

30/05/2025

So important x Thankyou for sharing your experience

When my son was very young, a charity called the Book Trust was giving all babies a bag of books. It was called Book Start. We all got the same books, and fairly quickly the charity shops around where we lived in East London all had a shelf full of copies of those books. In the pack was an illustrated guide for parents, with lots of pictures of parents of all sorts reading to their babies. They all looked happy and engaged, and the message was clear. Read to your child. Every day. Even if you spend most of the time trying to remove it from their mouth as they try to take a big tasty mouthful of cardboard.

I took it to heart, and tried to read with my son. The centre where we went for Stay And Play had signs up on the wall about how important it was to read with your child every day, how this was one of the most significant things a parent could do for their child. Even the doctor’s surgery had posters about reading - and if you turned up for their vaccinations when they were toddlers, you got more books. This time with a few more words.

The message was all around me. Good parents read to their children. Reading to your children will give them a head start at school and is known to be associated with all sorts of positive outcomes later in life.

I was open to this message. I was an avid reader as a child myself and had learnt to read before I started school. I was seldom spotted without a book in hand and one spare, just in case I finished the first.

My son, however, was not me. Fairly quickly he started to make it clear that snuggling up with a book was not his idea of a good time. He would take it out my hand and put it back in the bookshelf. He’d crawl off. The moment he could start to talk he’d say No when he saw a book.

No matter, I persisted. Good parents read to their children, right? Children loved being read to, sharing a book together would be ‘quality time’, there was posters all around me with pictures of happy children and parents reading. I saw no reflection at all of children like mine, who actively resisted reading.

As with so many of the edicts issued to parents, there was a crucial element missing. The child. For reading with a child isn’t just something a parent does. It’s something the child has to do too. It is a two-way process but it’s presented as if only one person makes the decision. When we tell parents to read to their children, the child’s consent is assumed. It’s invisible, until a child says No.

Why does this matter? Well, because forcing someone to do something (even gently) is very different to doing something with them which they want to do. Even if it’s apparently the same activity.

Forcing your child to read or listen to reading is not fun or a bonding experience - and in fact the research shows pretty clearly that it can do harm. Children who are made to complete mandatory reading logs quickly become less motivated to read, and I’ve met children whose experiences of being made to read daily at school have left them unwilling to even pick up a book for years afterwards.

When I realised that my son didn’t enjoy reading with me, I had a think about what children get from reading with a parent. Closeness, conversation, time focused on them and their interests - I thought I could achieve that through other means. It didn’t have to be centred around a book. So I started to watch TV programmes with him, and take a genuine interest in those instead. We watched a lot of Fireman Sam and the Octonauts - I tried buying the spin-off books but he wasn’t interested and I couldn’t blame him, Fireman Sam is more fun when he moves around and talks. I can still sing all the theme tunes - he, of course, doesn’t remember them at all.

My son is sixteen now, and he can read. We never forced reading on him and so he learnt late in schooled terms, between the ages of 8 and 10. He learnt from Minecraft and road signs. He skipped reading books and phonics and went straight in with Ramona the Pest. He reads for pleasure and his reading level is up to what would be expected at his age. He’s taking GCSEs in English.

I wonder sometimes what would have been different if I’d persisted with reading with him every day, even when he was so clearly telling me no. Because those early choices led on to respecting his decisions in other ways, and choosing not to force education upon him. We allowed him to come to different forms of learning in his own time.

And perhaps that’s why all the Read with Your Child posters never acknowledge that the child has a choice. The child is positioned right from the start as someone to whom things are done, no matter what they think. And as they grow, most of us never question whether education should be something which is done to children, rather than something in which they are a more-than-equal partner.

21/05/2025