Hold on.

What advice would you give to your teenage self?

Me, as a teenager, standing at the top pf the stairs and screaming until I was empty of sound. My family so used to it that they did not even bat an eyelid. My family being perplexed as to why I was like I was. My nan and grandad being completely disappointed when I wanted to sit in the car rather than go into the National Trust property and making me feel so guilty that I go anyway despite the fact I was so stressed that I wanted to scream forever.

That person, with a bad perm and jumpers filled with textures and pattern, who didn’t care what colour she wore as long as it felt right, that person I would tell to hang on. I would kneel next to her as she sat cross legged on the floor head buried in a book because that world inside the pages she understood, and I would tell her she wasn’t mad. That she wasn’t going insane.

I would tell her that she needed to get tested for autism and learning difficulties. I’d tell her that the noises weren’t too loud, she just heard them that way. I’d say that the other kids didn’t hate her, they just were talking a different language to her. I’d tell her that it is okay to stim. That it is okay to get frustrated and it is okay to be different.

My teenage self, I would tell her she was wonderful and talented and beautiful and different, and that it was all right to be all of those things. I’d tell her that there was a place in the world for her. That she would be okay.

But then, maybe I would say nothing. Maybe…

Because I had to be her in order to be me, and my life, right now, is pretty damn good.