Why We Exist
Politicians, ministers — even prime ministers — give speeches filled with promises. But too often, nothing happens. The words stay as words. Policies are announced, repeated, re‑announced, and re‑packaged, yet the lived reality does not change. Dyslexic Politics exists because those gaps matter. We examine every policy as a system: what was said, what was meant, what was delivered, and what actually changed for people. Our work is here to bring the words to life — to test them, track them, and translate them into clear, accessible analysis. We write so readers can see not just the speech, but the substance.
I Rock
About Me
I rock. I rock when I’m overwhelmed, when I’m thinking, when I’m regulating my senses, and when the world becomes too loud or too fast. Rocking is not a symptom; it is a stabiliser — a way of creating rhythm when the environment offers none. For me, and for many autistic people, it is the difference between coping and collapsing.
Living on the spectrum means navigating sensory overload, social ambiguity, executive‑function demands, and systems built for neurotypical processing. Every day is a calculation: noise, change, masking, energy. These are not abstract diagnostic criteria; they are lived realities.
For decades, autistic people were overlooked, mislabelled, or dismissed. Girls and women were missed entirely. Adults were invisible. Masking was praised instead of recognised as struggle. The result was generational underdiagnosis — a structural failure that still shapes the landscape today.
Successive UK governments have claimed the opposite: that autism and ADHD are “overdiagnosed”. Rising numbers do not reflect inflation; they reflect long‑term unmet need finally coming into view. Waiting lists, workforce shortages, and fragmented pathways show a system in scarcity, not excess.
I rock because my nervous system has spent decades navigating environments not built for it. I write because autistic people have always been here — simply unseen.