The NeuroQuarry

For most of my life, I felt like an outsider in my own story. I was the child who was always told I was “too quiet” or “too shy,” the teenager who preferred quiet corners and reading to loud parties, and the adult who worked twice as hard to hide how overwhelming the world felt. It wasn’t until I was well into adulthood that I discovered the reason behind it all: I’m autistic.

Hearing those words—“too quiet,” “too shy”—became part of my identity for so long. I carried them with me like a weight, convinced that if I could just be more like everyone else, I’d finally fit in. I didn’t have the words to explain that I wasn’t shy; I was just processing the world differently. That I needed time and space to find my voice, and that it was okay to communicate in my own way.

Receiving my autism diagnosis as an adult was both validating and overwhelming. It felt like someone had finally handed me the missing puzzle piece of my life. Suddenly, everything made sense: my need for routine, my intense focus on topics I loved, and why social interactions often felt like a script written in a language I didn’t understand.

But along with the relief came a deep sense of grief. I grieved for the child I once was—the one who didn’t have the words to explain why school felt so hard or why friendships seemed to come with an invisible rulebook I’d never seen. I wished that I’d had someone to help me understand myself earlier, to tell me that my differences weren’t flaws, but a part of who I am.

That’s why I created The NeuroQuarry—a place where neurodivergent children and young people can find the understanding and support I needed when I was growing up. I know firsthand what it’s like to feel “too much” or “not enough,” to feel the pressure to mask your true self just to fit in. My own journey showed me how powerful it is to be seen and supported for who you truly are.

At The NeuroQuarry, I want to create a space where autistic and neurodivergent children and young people feel safe to be themselves. A place where their passions are celebrated, their sensory needs are respected, and their voices are heard—even if they’re quiet or come out in different ways. Because every voice matters, and every young person deserves to grow up knowing that their brain isn’t broken—it’s different, and that difference is something to be proud of.

I’ve spent years unmasking and embracing my own neurodivergent identity. Now, I want to help the next generation do the same. Because I believe that when neurodivergent children and young people are supported in being themselves, they don’t just survive—they thrive.

This is the heart of my journey, and it’s why I do what I do. My late diagnosis gave me the language to understand myself. Creating The NeuroQuarry is my way of sharing that language—and that sense of belonging—with the children and young people who need it most.