Lucinda, Author at Lucinda Curran, Sound Healer & Life Coach

Sensory-Friendly Spaces: Supporting Neurodivergent Wellbeing

by Lucinda | 3, Sep 2025 | ADHD, Anxiety, Autism, Neurodivergent

Sensory-Friendly Spaces: Supporting Neurodivergent Wellbeing

Have you ever walked into a room and felt every light flicker, every chair squeak, and every smell amplified?

For many of us who are neurodivergent, the environment can overwhelm before we even start.

Sensory-friendly spaces make all the difference for neurodivergent wellbeing — and here’s why.

What a Sensory-Friendly Space Feels Like

A sensory-friendly space feels calm, predictable, and safe. Lighting is soft and adjustable, sounds are filtered or dampened, and the layout allows freedom to move without chaos.

Inside your neurodivergent brain, this feels like breathing after holding your breath for far too long. Your muscles relax, your heart rate slows, and your mind has space to focus.

Why “Sensory-Friendly” Matters

Everyday environments can be overwhelming — from noisy cafeterias to busy streets and crowded classrooms. Repeated sensory overload can lead to exhaustion, shutdown, or meltdown.

By contrast, sensory-friendly spaces support emotional regulation, reduce stress, and allow neurodivergent people to feel safe and grounded.

Creating and Identifying These Special Spaces

You don’t need a full room renovation to create a space that works for you. Small changes go a long way:

At home: Quiet corners, soft lighting, weighted blankets, noise-cancelling headphones.
At school or work: Predictable routines, low-traffic areas, scheduled sensory breaks.
Public spaces: Seek out calm cafes, libraries, or parks; advocate for inclusive design in community areas.

Even tiny adjustments — like switching to softer lighting — can make a huge difference to your comfort.

Benefits Beyond Comfort

When sensory needs are met, neurodivergent people can thrive socially, emotionally, and cognitively.

Creativity flows, concentration improves, and connection with others feels more natural.

This isn’t just about comfort — it’s about creating environments where people can live fully and authentically.

Check Out My Video

I explore the concept of Sensory-Friendly Spaces here in my latest video.

Final Thoughts: Sensory-Friendly Spaces are Essential

Sensory-friendly spaces are not luxuries — they are essential for supporting neurodivergent wellbeing.

Honour your nervous system, notice what environments feel best for you, and give yourself permission to seek or create spaces that work.

Want more strategies for thriving as a neurodivergent person?

Join my community Different… and Loving It!
Book a Meet & Greet
Or reach out via my Contact Page

Eye Contact Can Feel Overwhelming

by Lucinda | 21, Aug 2025 | ADHD, Autism, Communication, ND Traits

Eye Contact Can Be Overwhelming

Have you ever tried to hold someone’s gaze and felt your whole body tighten? As if their eyes were shining a spotlight straight into your soul?

If so, you’re not alone.

Why eye contact can feel overwhelming is something many neurodivergent people struggle to explain — yet it shapes countless social moments.

Today, I want to explore what it’s really like, and why it’s absolutely okay to look away.

The Sensory Intensity of Eye Contact

For many neurodivergent people, eye contact isn’t just “looking at someone.”

It’s a flood of sensory information — facial expressions, micro-signals, emotional cues — all processed at once, sometimes painfully so.

Imagine trying to have a conversation while someone shines a torch directly into your eyes. Your heart might race, your skin prickle, and your thoughts scatter. That’s what eye contact can feel like for some of us: too bright, too raw, too much.

It’s Not Rudeness — It’s Regulation

In many cultures, eye contact is seen as respect. But for neurodivergent people, avoiding it often isn’t about disrespect — it’s about staying regulated enough to listen and engage.

Looking away helps us process words without the overload. It’s a way of caring for ourselves so we can stay present in the moment.

Stories From Within

I’ve spoken to so many neurokin who’ve described forcing themselves to maintain eye contact only to feel their brain start skipping, like a record with a scratch.

One told me it felt like being dissected — exposed in a way that shut down their ability to even hear the words.

Looking away isn’t avoiding connection. It’s making connection possible.

Supporting Yourself and Others

If you find eye contact hard:

Try looking at someone’s nose or forehead instead.
Use nods or small gestures to show you’re listening.
Let people know that looking away actually helps you stay tuned in.

And if you’re supporting someone else? Release the expectation that “good eye contact” equals good communication. Connection is so much bigger than that.

Embracing Different Ways of Being Present

You are not broken for finding eye contact difficult.

You’re simply wired differently.

Let’s normalise looking away, fidgeting, or closing our eyes while we listen — they’re all valid, beautiful ways of connecting.

Watch This Video

I unpack this even further in my video Why Eye Contact Can Feel So Hard (and That’s Okay).

It’s a reassuring watch if you’ve ever worried that your way of being is “wrong.”

Let me know what resonated for you… and if you feel inclined, please like and share the video.

Understanding PDA: Beyond “Difficult Behaviour”

by Lucinda | 6, Aug 2025 | ADHD, Autism, Neurodivergent, PDA

Understanding PDA – It’s Not About Being Difficult

Have you ever watched a child spiral into panic or meltdown after being asked to do something simple — like putting on their shoes or starting homework?

For many neurodivergent children (and adults), this isn’t about being difficult.

It’s often a sign of something deeper: PDA.

Understanding PDA (Pathological Demand Avoidance, or more compassionately, Pervasive Drive for Autonomy) helps us move beyond assumptions of “bad behaviour” and towards genuine support.

As a neurodivergent adult who works closely with ND children, I’ve seen firsthand how misunderstood this can be — and how differently we show up when we truly get it.

What Is PDA?

PDA is often described as a profile of autism, marked by an extreme need to avoid everyday demands. But it’s more than that. It’s a nervous system–based response to feeling trapped, controlled, or overwhelmed.

For a child with PDA, even small expectations can feel like the walls are closing in. Their heart races, their chest tightens, and they might lash out, freeze, or distract. This is their body’s way of protecting itself from perceived threat.

Common Signs of PDA

Children with PDA might:

Suddenly melt down or panic when asked to do something — even if it’s fun
Avoid demands through humour, distraction, or ignoring
Show a strong need for control in play, routines, or conversations
Resist transitions (even from one favourite activity to another)
Be deeply empathetic yet easily overwhelmed by social dynamics

It’s not defiance. It’s an anxious system crying out for autonomy and safety.

How It Feels From the Inside

Imagine being told to do something — anything — and your entire body reacting like you’re about to be trapped.

Your chest feels hot, your skin prickles, and it’s suddenly hard to think straight.

For many people with PDA, even a gentle “time to brush your teeth” sets off this internal alarm.

They’re not choosing to be “difficult.”

Their nervous system is sounding the alarm — and they can’t move forward until they feel safe again.

Supporting Children (and Adults) With PDA

So how can we help?

Reduce perceived pressure: Phrase requests as choices. “Would you like to start with your shoes or your jumper?”
Invite collaboration: “We need to get ready soon — what should we pack first?”
Create flexible plans: Build in downtime and keep routines gentle.
Prioritise connection over compliance: Being safe, seen, and understood matters more than ticking tasks off a list.
Regulate together: Your calm presence, soft tone, and even things like sound healing can help their system settle.

You Are Not Alone

If you’re raising a child with PDA traits, know an adult with these traits, or recognising these patterns in yourself, please know: you are not alone.

With understanding, we can create spaces where these children — and adults — feel safe to be exactly who they are.

Watch This Video

I explore this even more deeply in my video Understanding PDA in Children: What Parents and Teachers Need to Know.

If you’ve ever wondered whether your child’s resistance might be something more, this will give you clarity and compassion.

You might also like my blogs on 10 Traits of Neurodiverse People and How to Support Neurodivergent Teens — plus many more insights and conversations over on my YouTube channel.

Supporting Neurodivergent Teens with Compassion and Space

by Lucinda | 31, Jul 2025 | ADHD, Autism, Neurodivergent, Shutdowns, Uniqueness

Supporting Neurodivergent Teens with Compassion and Space

If you’re parenting or guiding a neurodivergent teen — whether they’re autistic, ADHD, PDA, dyslexic, or wonderfully wired in other ways — you know how delicate this season of life can be.

Teens naturally crave independence, but for neurodivergent young people, this need is often magnified by a nervous system that’s easily overloaded. As a life coach and sound healer specialising in neurodivergence, I’ve witnessed time and again how gentle support, rather than heavy-handed help, makes all the difference.

Respecting their nervous system

Neurodivergent teens are often scanning for social and sensory threats without even realising it. What looks like “overreacting” may simply be their body protecting itself.

Pushing, pressuring or micro-managing can make them retreat even more. Try instead:

✅ “Would you like some help organising your week or prefer to handle it solo?”
✅ “I’ll be in the next room if you need me.”

These little shifts honour their autonomy — and calm their vigilant nervous system.

Less talking, more presence

Not every teen wants to “talk it out.” Words can scrape like sandpaper on raw nerves, especially when emotions are high.
So consider text messages, shared notes, or quiet parallel activities. Sometimes healing happens side by side, not face to face.

Honour their sensory recovery

After a day of bright lights, noisy corridors and constant social decoding, your teen might decompress by lying in bed scrolling. It’s not lazy — it’s survival. Their body needs this reset.

Co-regulate together

One of the most profound tools is simply your calm energy. Breathe slowly, soften your voice, ground your feet. Your nervous system will gently invite theirs to settle too.

This is where my sound healing comes in — the vibrations of bowls, drums or chimes can do wonders for both of you, regulating through resonance.

A reminder: they’re not broken

So many neurodivergent teens believe they’re too much, or not enough. They need to hear:

“It’s okay to rest.”
“Your brain isn’t wrong, it’s just different.”
“I love who you are.”

Want more gentle insights?

I go deeper into this in my video Supporting Neurodivergent Teens Without Smothering Them — watch it below.

You’ll also find these valuable:

Understanding PDA in Children (especially as demand avoidance often carries through to teens)
Why Eye Contact Can Feel So Hard (and That’s Okay) (because social overwhelm is real)

You can find these — along with soothing sound sessions, supportive chats, and honest reflections for my neurokin — on my YouTube channel, Different… And Loving It!

Supporting neurodivergent teens isn’t about fixing them.

It’s about offering them spacious compassion so they can unfold into their truest selves.

Why I Still Say Neurodivergence Is a Superpower

by Lucinda | 17, Jul 2025 | ADHD, Autism, Boundaries, Empowerment, Inspiration, Motivation, Neurodivergent, Uniqueness

Why I Still Say Neurodivergence Is a Superpower

I know not everyone likes the term “superpower” when it comes to autism, ADHD, dyslexia, or other forms of neurodivergence.

Some say it sugarcoats real challenges. Others feel it sets unfair expectations. And I hear that — truly.

But here’s why I still say it.

Because For Many, The Starting Point Is Feeling Broken

When you grow up being constantly corrected, misunderstood, or labelled as “too much” or “not enough,” you internalise the belief that there’s something wrong with you.

Many of the neurodivergent people I work with (and this includes me) spent years feeling defective. Masking, shrinking, trying to meet standards that were never designed for our brains or bodies.

So when I say “your neurodivergence is a superpower,” it’s not to deny the hard bits. It’s to disrupt the old story that we’re somehow fundamentally flawed.

The Double-Sided Coin

Neurodivergence often means living with big challenges: sensory overload, executive dysfunction, overwhelm, social burnout.

But the same brain wiring that makes us struggle can also be what makes us shine.

That laser focus on a passion?
The way patterns jump out where others see nothing?
The creative problem-solving, deep empathy, or fierce sense of justice?

That’s not in spite of being neurodivergent. That’s because of it.

What It Feels Like Inside

When I’m in a flow state — writing, making music, or guiding a sound session — it’s like my entire nervous system is lit up from the inside. Everything clicks. Colours feel brighter, ideas spark, connections form effortlessly.

Is it overwhelming sometimes? Yes.
Is it beautiful? Also yes.

It’s why I sometimes describe neurodivergence as having a sensitive instrument — finely tuned, sometimes fragile, but capable of picking up and creating things others might miss.

Why “Superpower” Still Matters To Me

Because it reframes. It says:

You’re not broken, just different.
Your traits are not defects, they’re part of a beautifully complex design.
You have capacities that are unique — and deeply needed in this world.

It’s also about hope. About planting the idea that even if school, work, or relationships have felt like relentless uphill battles, there’s still immense value in how your brain and body work.

Of Course, Challenges Are Real

Saying “it’s a superpower” doesn’t mean ignoring meltdowns, shutdowns, executive dysfunction, or the exhausting reality of living in a world not built for us.

But it does invite us to see the whole picture — including the brilliance and magic woven through our differences.

Keep Exploring With Me

I talk more about this in my video Why I Still Say It’s a Superpower (Even When Others Don’t).

If you’ve ever felt caught between “I’m struggling” and “I’m extraordinary,” this one’s for you — it’s about rewriting the old narrative of brokenness into one of worth and wonder.