Thrive Therapy Services

04/09/2025

I came across this video today and I absolutely agree. As an AuDHDer and therapist who has worked within the system, it didn’t take long for me to start questioning the validity and authority of diagnosis. What stood out most for me was not just the act of diagnosis itself, but the way meaning is inscribed into it - almost always framed through a deficit-based model.

That’s why I think social media has been so important. It’s given space for real people to share their lived experiences, challenge old narratives, and bring in perspectives that the clinical lens often leaves out - allowing us to begin to question taken-for-granted notions of ‘truth’.

https://www.facebook.com/share/v/1Ax1d1fh3s/?mibextid=wwXIfr

10/08/2025

Clearing Up Some Confusion: Zones of Regulation & Polyvagal Theory

I’ve noticed that sometimes people assume Zones of Regulation is directly affiliated with or derived from Polyvagal Theory. This isn’t actually the case.

Here’s the difference:
• Zones of Regulation is a teaching curriculum created by occupational therapist Leah Kuypers in 2011. It helps children identify their emotional or arousal ‘zone’ and choose strategies to regulate themselves. It’s based on frameworks like cognitive-behavioural therapy, social thinking, and executive functioning.
• Polyvagal Theory, developed by Stephen Porges in the 1990s, is a neurophysiological model that explains how our autonomic nervous system shifts through states like social engagement, fight/flight, or shutdown. It offers a lens to understand why self-regulation can be difficult, especially when the nervous system is highly activated.

Polyvagal Theory doesn’t focus on identifying strategies to override feelings or states. Instead, it encourages us to look through the lens of the nervous system to understand and honour our authentic needs in each state - whether that’s safety, connection, or rest.

This theory supports the idea that before self-regulation strategies can work, we often need co-regulation: support from trusted people and safe environments to help our nervous system settle. It’s about working with the body’s natural responses, not trying to ‘fix’ or override them quickly.

Most importantly, it’s essential that both approaches are delivered in a way that respects the uniqueness of all neurotypes. A neuroaffirmative perspective means valuing diverse nervous systems - understanding that no one way of being or responding is ‘better’ or more ‘correct’. We can and should support individuals by honouring their own rhythms and needs, creating spaces where everyone can thrive in their own way.

This is why a Polyvagal framework is central to my practice as a therapist and calm coach. If you want to learn more, take a look at my website:

Thrive offers compassionate therapy and calm coaching to help you manage anxiety, stress, and trauma. Available in Romsey and online across the UK.

06/08/2025

Not All Screen Time Is Created Equal: A Reflection on Safety, Connection & Regulation

Over the summer holidays, I’ve been doing what my brain always does – Thinking, Linking, Processing.

Whether I want to or not.

It’s both a gift and a challenge of my neurotype. My mind doesn’t stop weaving ideas, noticing patterns and drawing connections.

One of the things I’ve been reflecting on this holiday is screens and the ongoing controversy around them, especially for children.

I get it.

The content isn’t always helpful and growing, sensitive brains do need space, movement, co-regulation, and connection away from digital distractions.

But sometimes - especially for some neurodivergent children - a screen can be exactly the bridge that brings them toward regulation and connection.

Let me explain.

Some kids (like my own) live in a heightened, alert state much of the time. Their nervous systems are always switched on. Transitions, boundaries, relational ruptures — they all hit harder.

Recently, after I had to set a boundary with my son - something that’s particularly tough for him - I watched as he tried to make his way back to connection and regulation.

He wasn’t ready to talk, be touched and certainly wasn’t ready to read a book in bed with me any time soon – which I absolutely respected.

But he was open to playing a Star wars game in bed.

So I lay next to him, quietly.

Listening.

Asking questions about what he was doing.

And gently, almost imperceptibly, I noticed him come back into himself. Back into us.

His system was regulating - still fragile, but shifting.

From there, we moved to reading a book together, curled up.

And eventually, peacefully, to sleep.

Was the screen a problem in that moment?

Or was it a bridge - to safety, to co-regulation?

I truly believe that screens can be an important resource for both self- and co-regulation - when they’re used mindfully by the caregiver, in the service of helping a child return to a state of balance.

That support includes being conscious of the moment, the child, and the content.

Asking: is this screen time soothing?

Focusing?

Regulating or disregulating?

Because not all screen time is created equal.

Not all regulation looks the same.

And not all connection starts with eye contact and words. Sometimes, especially for our neurodivergent kids, we need to meet them where they are and use the tools that help them get back to us. 💜

24/07/2025

It’s always been my tendency to question - to lean into discomfort when things don’t quite add up.
But over time, both through my own experiences within the system and through my work with clients, that quiet questioning has become louder.

I’ve found myself asking:
Who gets to define what’s functional, healthy, or whole?
Whose lens are we trusting - and at what cost?

So much of what is still held up as ‘expertise’ around neurodivergence is built on a deficit-based model - one that categorises people according to what they lack, what they can’t do, or how well they mimic neurotypical norms.

And too often, those models don’t just misrepresent neurodivergent people - they gatekeep access to support, belonging, and self-trust.

Which brings me to this:

Imagine a world designed for neurodivergent people…

A world where curiosity was a currency.
Where movement was welcomed, not punished.
Where emotions were seen as wisdom, not weakness.
Where communication was allowed to be direct, layered, or nonlinear.
Where time bent around focus, not the other way around.

In many Indigenous and Eastern cultures, this wasn’t a fantasy - it was closer to reality.
Communities were often built around interdependence, intuition, sensitivity, and flexibility. People had space to co-regulate, to honour natural rhythms, and to contribute according to their strengths. Difference was part of the social fabric - not a flaw to be corrected.

But as modern Western society industrialised, everything changed.

The rise of the clock, the conveyor belt, and the curriculum brought with it a new kind of pressure:
Conform. Obey. Produce. Repeat.

Education became standardised. Work became rigid. Emotions became inconvenient. Movement became disruptive. And suddenly, the minds that once thrived in fluid, intuitive, relational environments began to fail - not because they were broken, but because the world around them had stopped making space for them.

So we labelled them.

We called their brilliance a disorder.
We pathologised their attention, their energy, their sensitivity — to draw attention away from the fact that it was the systems, not the people, that were malfunctioning.

Now, many neurodivergent people find their only real sanctuary in digital spaces - communities online where their thinking is valued, their rhythms respected, and their differences seen as gifts, not glitches.

Neurodivergence isn’t the problem.
The environment is.

It’s time to remember that the way things are is not the way they have to be or have always been.

And maybe - just maybe - the minds we’re trying to fix are actually here to help us build something better.

23/07/2025

Regulation V's Calmness. Let’s talk about that.

A central thread running through all the work I do - whether in therapy or calm coaching - is helping people optimise their ability to stay regulated.

But here’s the bit that often gets misunderstood:

Regulated doesn’t necessarily mean calm.

It means bringing the right kind of energy to the moment you’re in. It’s about staying connected enough to yourself to know what the situation calls for and being able to access that state without getting hijacked by overwhelm or shutdown.

Sometimes, regulation looks like softness and steady breathing.

But sometimes it looks like mobilising, asserting, feeling angry, or setting a boundary. That’s regulation too!

Let me give you an example.

If your child suddenly runs into the road, that’s not a moment for a calm and quiet tone.

Regulation in that moment might sound like:

“STOP!!”

Loud, urgent, protective-not panicked, but fully activated. That’s a regulated nervous system doing its job.

Staying regulated is about building range, capacity, and trust in your nervous system-not striving to be calm at all costs.

This is the work I love.

Helping people reclaim their full, regulated selves—whether that looks quiet or fierce.

Thrive offers compassionate therapy and calm coaching to help you manage anxiety, stress, and trauma. Available in Romsey and online across the UK.

09/07/2025

This felt like a really important topic that I needed to share today. Food for thought!

As I continue to deepen my understanding of neurodivergence - both personally and through my work with others - I’ve come to see just how much our current diagnostic systems struggle to hold the full range of human experience. This isn’t because people’s experiences aren’t valid.

07/07/2025

Building Real Calm: Why Your Nervous System Matters in Parenting

It’s one of the hardest things as a parent - trying to stay calm when your child isn’t. As a member of a neurodivergent family, I get it!

But the truth is, that’s when they need your calm the most.
And let’s be real - staying grounded in those moments isn’t about just ‘trying harder’.
It’s about doing the deeper work in ourselves.

That’s exactly why I created Calm Coaching for parents.
Because real calm is something we build- from the inside out.

Here’s some of what that looks like:

Recognising your own patterns -
When you feel dismissed, powerless, or triggered - it often links back to your own story. The goal isn’t to blame yourself - it’s to notice, with curiosity.

Having tools to regulate yourself -
Strategies- knowing when to pause, reminding yourself ‘we’re safe.’ Just like our kids, we need practical ways to calm our systems.

Breaking cycles -
If you grew up with shouting, shutdowns, or punishment - it’s understandable that calm feels hard now. You’re learning a new way - and that’s powerful.

Meeting yourself with compassion -
You won’t always get it right. None of us do. But every moment you stay present and regulated, you show your child what safety feels like.

Remember, your nervous system sets the tone.
When you’re calm, they feel it and they can borrow that sense of safety.

That’s where real change begins.

Curious about building that kind of calm? That’s exactly what we work on in Calm Coaching for parents. Take a look at my website to find out more thrivetherapyservices.co.uk

04/07/2025

We’re Not Broken - We’re Activated

‘Anxiety’ has been a constant companion for much of my life - but I’ve always had mixed feelings about the word itself. Sometimes I do use it and for many people, myself included, the word anxiety can feel honest and genuinely helpful. But socially, I believe it still carries a weight of assumptions - some overt, others quietly embedded in our internal messaging.

When I share with someone that I’m feeling anxious- I’ve noticed it can sometimes land like I’m saying there’s something wrong, it seems to infer that I’m not coping, that I need fixing, or that they need to jump in and help me sort it out.

Similarly, I’ve observed in my client work how ‘anxious’ people can feel about having anxiety. As if the sensation itself weren’t uncomfortable enough, they’re also contending with deeply embedded assumptions - about what it means, and about how others might perceive them for having it. It really gets in the way.

That’s why I often prefer to use the word activation.

When I say ‘I feel activated’ it completely shifts the meaning. Activation isn’t personal - it’s physiological. It means my nervous system has moved into a stress response - fight, flight, or freeze… nothing more!

The important thing is: activation is universal. We all experience it. Some of us more often, more intensely, or in different ways - but it’s a completely natural part of how our nervous system protects us.

The more we can normalise and naturalise what we call anxiety - recognising it as a common, shared experience of activation - the less shame, fear, and self-judgment we carry.

When we free ourselves from the story we’ve attached to the experience, we can meet it with interest and inquiry. ‘Ooh, I’m activated… that’s interesting. What do I need in this moment?’ Instead of, ‘Oh my god, this means something terrible - and what will people think of me?’

One response leads to curiosity and self-care. The other leads to panic and shutdown. That shift makes all the difference.
So here’s a gentle tip I often share with clients - and practice myself:

See how it feels for you.

Play with using the word activation instead of anxiety. Notice how it lands in your body. Notice if it shifts anything in how you relate to those feelings. Sometimes, even a small language change can create space for more compassion, understanding, and ease - for ourselves and for each other.

If you're curious about how a nervous system-focused lens can support mental health, wellbeing, and parenting, you can learn more at www.thrivetherapyservices.co.uk.

28/06/2025

Beyond the System: How Social Media Is Changing the Way We Understand Neurodivergence

I’ve been thinking a lot lately — as a therapist, as a neurodivergent person, and as part of a neurodivergent family — about how we make sense of ourselves.

There’s a lot about the internet that I see really isn’t helpful for people’s wellbeing — comparison, overwhelm, the constant stream of information. But at the same time, I’ve been noticing how incredibly useful it can be too, especially for those of us who’ve felt different our whole lives and maybe never had the language to explain why.

The truth is, for a long time, our understanding of things like dyslexia, autism, ADHD — all the different ways neurodivergence shows up — was filtered through outdated structures. Old systems. Research that mostly focused on a narrow group of experiences and was shaped by the cultural and social agendas of the time — often patriarchal, often pathologising, and definitely not reflective of everyone’s lived experience.

But now? We have so much more access to real stories, real experiences, and diverse voices. It’s through those shared experiences that so many of us — myself included — have been able to finally understand ourselves better. To de-stigmatise our experiences. To let go of the idea that difference equals disorder.

That process has made me more compassionate with myself, with my family, and with the people I work with. It’s reminded me that the frameworks we were handed in the past were never the full picture.

We’re building a new one — more human, more inclusive, and one where lived experience matters just as much, if not more, than outdated diagnostic boxes.

And within that, I believe self-diagnosis is not only valid — it’s essential.
For so many, it’s the first step in understanding themselves, especially when access to formal diagnosis is slow, biased, or inaccessible. Self-diagnosis allows people to find language for their experience, connect with others, and begin that journey of self-compassion and acceptance — long before any system officially “approves” it.

It also helps break down the gatekeeping structures within the system — the idea that only professionals can define your experience, or that your identity is only valid once it’s been filtered through an outdated framework.

Lived experience matters. Your understanding of yourself matters. And self-diagnosis is a valid, powerful part of that.

24/06/2025

Insights from Your Nervous System | Top Tip

Ever wonder why two people can face the exact same situation-yet react so differently?

✨ One stays calm, keeps perspective, and responds with clarity.
⚡ The other spirals into self-doubt, assumes the worst, or gets stuck in overthinking.

It’s easy to label this as ‘mindset’ ‘attitude ’or ‘personality’.
But often, it comes down to something deeper: nervous system state.

Here’s an example:

You’re walking down the street, and a friend passes by without saying hello.
🟢 If your nervous system is regulated, you might think:
‘They probably didn’t see me. No big deal’
🔴 But if you're in fight-or-flight or shutdown, you might go to:
‘They’re ignoring me. They must be upset with me’
Or even: ‘I always get things wrong. No one likes me’
Same situation. Completely different story.

Why? Because when the body is in its stress or shutdown response, the brain doesn't interpret reality accurately. It filters every experience through an innate negativity bias- a built-in, evolutionary response designed to detect threats and keep us safe. In this mode, we aren’t looking for what’s true. We’re looking for what’s ‘dangerous’.

So, when someone tends to moan, worry, or catastrophise it’s not a weakness, or a reflection of who they are. It’s a reflection of how their nervous system is wired for protection, not perspective.

So what actually helps?

It’s not just about changing how you think-it starts with changing how you feel, physiologically.

When your nervous system feels safe, your brain naturally has more access to:
✅ Perspective
✅ Options
✅ Connection
✅ Realistic, balanced thinking

🧠 Practice this:
Start noticing what story your brain tells when you're stressed or dysregulated. Then compare it to the story that shows up when you're calm and grounded.

When you know the difference, you can start working with your nervous system, not against it.

That’s why at Thrive, we don’t just work on mindset - we work on your ability to access regulation.

22/06/2025

🧠 Insights from Your Nervous System
Top Tip: Why Delegation Feels So Hard

If you find it difficult to delegate- even when you’re overwhelmed- you’re not alone. And no, it’s not just about needing better systems or being too controlling.

🔍 What’s often happening underneath?
Your nervous system is in a stress response.

When we’re under pressure, the body shifts into a state of protection. In this mode, control feels safer than collaboration, and letting go of tasks can feel risky—even if it makes logical sense.

🛑 If you notice yourself resisting delegation, take a moment to check in:

➡️ Am I in survival mode?
➡️ Is my nervous system feeling under threat?

💡 Instead of pushing through, pause.
Do what you need to regulate- breathe, move, connect, ground.

Then, from that calmer place, begin building a delegation practice.
Start small. Choose one task. Let your system learn that it’s safe to receive help.

✨ Delegation isn’t just a skill- it’s a capacity.
And like any capacity, it grows best from a place of safety and regulation.