Towan Therapies

11/01/2026

Weekend Wintering

If you’ve made it through the first full week back to routine -
work, school, emails, timetables, responsibilities -
I just want to say this:

That was a lot.

Transitions are not small things for the nervous system.
Moving from rest to structure, from quiet to demand, from home rhythms to social rhythms - it all requires energy, regulation, and internal adjustment.

For autistic and neurodivergent nervous systems especially, this kind of shift can feel like going from winter straight into early spring with no gentle thaw.

So if you’re tired.
If you’re foggy.
If your body feels heavy, wired, flat, or frayed.

That makes sense.

This is Somatic Wintering too -
noticing the cost of transition and offering yourself a little more care than usual.

Maybe that looks like:
🔹an earlier night
🔹softer food
🔹fewer conversations
🔹more warmth
🔹quieter evenings
🔹permission to do less this weekend

You don’t need to “bounce back”.
You don’t need to catch up.

You just need to arrive - in your own body, at your own pace.

And if you’re reading this while holding a nervous system that’s still finding its feet after the break, you’re not alone.💜

🪷 Karuna Therapeutic Services — somatic, neuroaffirming therapy for late-identified autistic adults

05/01/2026

I loved reading this write up from Karuna Therapeutic Services about wintering and listening to our body. Reminded me of how I really changed my own narrative with this last winter after reading The Wintering by Katherine May and that I could do with revisiting it. 🥰 Thanks for the reminder to just allow for the natural ebb and flow.

How can you listen to your body when the world is insisting you push through and just get on with it?

Natasha Leahy of Karuna Therapeutic Services introduces us to Somatic Wintering: A non-pathologising, compassionate way of honouring periods of withdrawal, fatigue, low energy, and deep restoration.

It offers neurodivergent people a framework for understanding experiences that are often misunderstood, medicalised, or pushed away.

05/01/2026

Love this info and write up on inherited/acquired divergence a common discussion point with colleagues and clients

My Perspective on Neurodivergence: Inherited and Acquired, Biological and Political

I want to take a moment to be clear about where I stand when it comes to neurodivergence - especially in relation to inherited vs acquired forms, and how I understand their biological and social dimensions.

🧬 Neurodivergence is Real - Even When it's not Diagnosed

The term neurodivergent was coined by Kassiane Asasumasu to describe those whose cognitive and neurological function diverge from dominant norms - not just those who have a recognised diagnosis.

For some of us, this neurodivergence is inherent. It shows up early, follows us across the lifespan, and often runs in families. It can be seen in the way we process sensory input, language, time, relationships, patterns, and meaning.

For others, neurodivergence arises through experience - most often through trauma, neglect, burnout, dysregulation, or systemic harm.

Many of us experience both concurrently.

There is no need to draw hard lines between “valid” and “invalid” neurodivergence. All divergence is real when it’s lived - especially when it reshapes how someone exists in the world.

🧬 Inherited and Acquired Divergence are Both Biological

This is key for me: just because something is trauma-induced or adaptive doesn't mean it’s not biological.

Trauma leaves epigenetic markers.

Chronic stress rewires the HPA axis.

Emotional neglect alters synaptic pruning and brain development.

Long-term burnout or masking can affect immune function, mitochondrial resilience, and hormonal balance.

None of these things are abstract. They are embodied. So when someone is wired differently - whether from birth or as a result of complex survival - that wiring is divergence. It deserves recognition, not dismissal.

🧬 Pathology is not the Same as Biology

It’s important not to confuse the two.
Saying “neurodivergence is biological” is not the same as saying “neurodivergence is a disorder.” Even if that biology is itself labelled as pathological or a disorder; that's perspective.

What science pathologises is often just a difference (or divergence) that is misunderstood (misinterpreted through a narrow lens) or punished by a system that refuses to recognise and won't accommodate it.

Biology isn’t about diagnosis - it’s about describing what something exists as. In this case, it includes variation in genomics, brain architecture, immune sensitivity, sensory systems, and stress response pathways.

In fact, many people who live with inherited divergence carry specific genetic variants (e.g., in dopamine transport, glutamate signalling, mitochondrial function, connective tissue, methylation, etc.) that correlate with the traits we associate with neurodivergence.

Those traits can also be amplified or triggered by environmental exposures and trauma.
It’s not either-or, it’s both - and that complexity matters. We need to be able to hold nuance and complexity when we understand genomic divergence for what it is.

🧬 Why I Often Just say “Divergent” Instead

Sometimes I feel more inclined to use the word divergent on its own now - without the “neuro” - because I find that it captures something broader, something more complete.

Of course many people are neurologically divergent - but many are also often:

Immunologically divergent

Physiologically divergent

Connective tissue divergent

Sensory processing divergent

Metabolically and hormonally divergent

Developmentally and regulatory divergent

-Alongside their neurology (all as part of their unique divergent spectrum).

These are not separate categories. They are deeply interconnected layers of a single terrain.
So when I say divergent, I’m referring to the whole picture.

Not a neurological variation by itself - but a multisystemic architecture that shows up across disciplines, across time, and across lived experience.

I see through that lens - transdisciplinary, whole-body, pattern-based - and the language of divergence feels more accurate and more spacious than anything that ties us only to the brain.

🧬 A Terrain-Based Model of Divergence

The framework I work from is terrain-based. That means I see neurodivergence (or divergence more broadly) as something that emerges from the interaction between:

Genetic terrain (inherited variants, structural differences).

Epigenetics through environmental exposures (toxins, trauma, diet, sensory load).

Developmental processes (pruning, plasticity, resilience).

Social context (isolation, access needs, accommodation, trauma).

Embodiment and feedback loops (immune signalling, nervous system reactivity).

In this model, some divergence is innate; some is acquired. All of it is real, and none of it requires a formal label to matter.

🧬 Identity and Integrity

I believe strongly in the power of self-identification - but I also believe in body-based truth. For me, the term neurodivergent holds both:

It’s a political identity, claimed in resistance to normative systems

And it’s a biological reality, expressed in nervous systems, tissues, and cells

We should not need to erase biology in order to be inclusive. We can acknowledge that trauma and oppression shape the body, just as genomics and development do. We can honour experience and mechanism. We can centre both the politics and the physiology of divergence.

When we do, we make space for everyone who’s been pushed out - not just from systems, but from language itself.

©️ -Neurotopia CIC

04/01/2026

Thanks Jade Farrington - Counsellor and Therapist this made me chuckle to myself active procrastination has definitely been at play for me the last few weeks - suddenly the list of DIY jobs are now complete….but the tax return….welllllll that’s another story for another day 😬🤦‍♀️

Lots of people are posting about New Year's Resolutions not working for neurodivergent people.

Everyone is different, and what works for one person may not work for friends and family.

About a decade ago I read a book called Obliquity by John Kay. The author uses research to argue that our goals are best achieved when we approach them indirectly.

He explains that we rarely know enough about the intricacies of problems to be able to address them head on, but we can achieve them via a gradual process of discovery and risk-taking.

If our aim is very simple and we know what we need to do, then it may be straightforward to achieve. But for bigger goals and challenges, a more circuitous route is needed.

Neurodivergent people can find that the scale of change needed to get where they want in life feels impossible. If you’re currently burned out, unhappy in your relationships, and working in a role that doesn’t accommodate your needs, that understandably feels huge. The capacity and spoons needed to change that may not be available.

This can be compounded by different conceptions of time. ADHDers in particular may only have a clear concept of doing something now. A multi-year plan stretching into the future isn’t something everyone can conceive.

Obliquity is by no means an ADHD-focused book, but it can help explain why ADHDers can find ‘success’ on quite traditional metrics when able to approach things in their own way. If, as Kay argues, the happiest people aren’t the ones pursuing happiness; and the most profitable businesses aren’t profit-oriented; then something else is going on.

Going off on tangents can build skills and knowledge; produce creative ideas; develop connections with other people; and solidify the foundations of what we’re ultimately trying to achieve.

Many ADHDers are familiar with the idea of active procrastination, whereby they do something in order to avoid doing something else. Tidying your room suddenly feels really, really important when you don’t want to fill in a job application. Painting the front door is extremely vital when you don’t want to complete a tax return.

And it’s not just that someone doesn’t want to. Tasks can seem so big, and potentially unfamiliar, that the steps needed to achieve them feel impossible to conceive. Someone might not even be able to conceptualise the end result. An exciting and novel, or familiar and useful, task can easily leap in instead.

This doesn’t mean flailing around randomly. Just as businesses that prioritise their values can end up much more profitable than those that deliberately pursue profit, slowly curating a life that’s in line with our values can prove more fruitful and fulfilling than deliberately targeting a set end goal that may or may not be met.

This ebook is designed to help you to become more familiar with your values and more purposeful in side questing to your destination, however that looks for you.

02/01/2026

After years of deep healing and recovery I can now always feel things in the body first (it’s just that I’m often too busy to sit and listen to my body)
I can sense a quiet shift as we move toward the Year of the Fire Horse (Feb 17, 2026).

The new year has already shifted so much energy and head space for me both personally and professionally and we have very exciting things happening behind the scenes at Towan Therapies VERY much related to horses 🐴 ❤️

The Year of the Snake last year asked for deep shedding. Old stories. Old survival strategies. Ways of holding it all together that once kept me safe, but no longer serve my nervous system after doing deep healing in recent years.

This year and the people that entered my life taught me how to both soften and strengthen.

How to let go without collapsing.
How to keep breathing, listening, and showing up — even when disappearing felt easier - the safer option.

The Fire Horse brings a different energy: truth, movement, and steady courage.

Not force.
Not hustle.
Not fighting.
But alignment.

A reminder that real power comes from listening to our bodies, honoring our limits, and allowing ourselves to be seen as we are.

This feels like a gentle turning point.
An invitation to receive lightness, connection, and goodness again.
To trust that after so much releasing, it’s safe to welcome what’s next and that takes courage to step forward into the unknown.

May this year offer you all the
✨ permission to move at your own pace
✨ rest when your nervous system asks
✨ and the trust that good things are allowed to find you too ❤️

22/12/2025

I want to talk about something many people experience during trauma healing but rarely expect: EMOTIONAL FLOODING. The last few days where I was hit by a version of this reminded me of the importance of clients being aware of this. For me being super busy with zero time for processing and reflecting the last few weeks has meant my system was in overdrive this weekend catching up.

Clients often get worried because once they start feeling safer or doing deeper work, emotions suddenly surge—grief, anger, fear, tears that seem to come out of nowhere. It can feel like, “I was coping before… why do I feel worse now?”

Here’s the truth: this is often not a setback.
It’s a nervous system that is beginning to thaw.

For many trauma survivors, numbness, control, or staying “functional” going about their daily lives was a survival skill. When safety increases—through therapy, boundaries, stability, or support—the body may finally release what it’s been holding back. That release can come fast and feel overwhelming.

Emotional flooding doesn’t mean healing is failing.
It usually means the work is moving faster than your current regulation skills or your current life set up. Sometimes we can’t change our environments and lifestyle’s immediately.

Healing isn’t about forcing everything to come out at once. In fact, trauma healing works best in small, titrated doses, paired with strong grounding and nervous system regulation. Slowing down is not avoidance—it’s wisdom.

If you’re experiencing emotional flooding:
• You’re not broken
• You’re not “too much”
• And you’re not doing therapy wrong

What helps most is learning how to contain emotions, not suppress them—building safety in the body, strengthening regulation, and allowing feelings to move at a pace your system can handle.

And if this is happening in therapy, it’s important feedback. A trauma-informed therapist will slow the work, increase resourcing, and help you feel steadier—not push you through overwhelm.

Healing isn’t linear. Sometimes feeling more is part of learning how to feel safely.

21/12/2025

From a trauma-informed couples therapist perspective, adult romantic relationships are one of the most powerful settings for healing. This time of year with the increased pressures and time together even the strongest of relationships can be testing.

Romantic intimacy activates our earliest attachment wounds.

Our nervous systems learned how to survive closeness long before we had words. We learned how to brace, pursue, shut down, or disappear based on what connection required of us growing up. What many of us didn’t learn was how to stay regulated with someone who mattered.

So in adult relationships, those patterns resurface - the greater the love and connection the deeper the reaction.
Fear of abandonment. Fear of being too much. Fear of not being enough. This isn’t dysfunction—it’s unhealed attachment showing itself.

When couples slow down and communicate and respond differently, healing becomes possible.

A partner staying present instead of withdrawing.
A partner softening instead of defending.
A partner repairing instead of disappearing.

These moments don’t just feel supportive—they retrain the nervous system. Over time, the body learns safety in connection. Emotion no longer signals danger. Needs stop feeling like threats.

This is why couples work matters. It’s not about perfect communication or winning power struggles. It’s about creating enough safety for two nervous systems to experience something new—together.

That’s not just relationship work.

That’s trauma repair.

21/12/2025

Just one of the many ways we explore during sessions how to sit with, get curious about and work through our feelings

DBTSkills. Emotion Regulation. What it Really Means to Sit With Your Feelings.

21/12/2025

❄️ December 21 – Winter Solstice ✨

Today marks the shortest day and longest night of the year and if you have horses you will know it’s the day you yearn for as means hopefully things will improve with more light!!

However I digress from a therapeutic lens, the Winter Solstice is a gentle reminder that even in our darkest seasons, change is already underway. 🌑➡️☀️

This quiet turning point invites us to slow down, reflect, and honor what has felt heavy—without judgment. Just as nature rests, we are allowed to rest too. Healing doesn’t rush; it unfolds gradually.

After today, the light begins its return—minute by minute, day by day. If you’ve been carrying hope, fatigue, grief, or uncertainty, know that brighter days can grow softly, not suddenly.

A beautiful time to pause, breathe, set intentions, and welcome what’s next—with compassion for yourself.
You don’t need to be “there” yet. The light is already on its way. 💛

17/12/2025

For nervous systems that have been in survival mode, a change of scenery—physically or emotionally—can help signal safety.
New views can soften old patterns.

16/12/2025

Places of safety and reflection are more than just “nice spaces” — they’re regulators for your nervous system and essential for self care.
Especially when life feels heavy, unpredictable, or emotionally demanding, these places help your body remember that it is safe enough to slow down. They give us space to breathe and prioritise.
I have been fortunate enough to live five mins walk from this stunning beach for nearly two decades and have my favourite rock to sit on and have a little peace or when the waves are roaring and rolling time to reflect on how small we are against Mother Natures strength.
This evening I was spoilt with the sounds of the local lone bagpipe player on the beach at sunset 🥰

16/12/2025

You’re not healing.
You’re surviving efficiently.

You wake up, get dressed, show up, perform competence, keep the wheels turning.
You answer messages.
Meet deadlines.
Take care of everyone else.

From the outside, you look fine.
Capable.
Reliable.
Strong.

Inside, you’re holding your breath.

You learned early that stopping was dangerous.
That resting invited consequences.
That feeling too much meant being too much.

So you adapted.

You became productive instead of present.
Functional instead of safe.
Composed instead of connected.

You learned how to compartmentalise pain so well
that even you forget it’s there —
until your body starts keeping score.

The numbness.
The emotional flatness.
The muted joy.
The way time disappears.
The kind of exhaustion no amount of sleep touches.

This isn’t healing.
It’s dissociation with good time management.

Unprocessed pain doesn’t vanish.
It waits.

It waits for a moment of stillness.
A pause.
A loss.
A nervous system that finally runs out of adrenaline.

And when collapse comes, people are shocked.

“But you were doing so well.”
“You seemed so strong.”
“You had it together.”

They mistake endurance for wellness.
They confuse silence with peace.

Healing isn’t looking okay.
Healing is feeling safe enough to slow down
without your system screaming that something terrible will happen if you do.

And you were never given that safety.

You didn’t fail at healing.
You were never given the conditions required for it.

Collapse isn’t weakness.
It’s the moment your body stops cooperating with the lie.

And sometimes, it’s the first honest thing that’s happened in years.