I have written before about how being a parent carer has impacted my career. I hate to labour the same point, but the truth is, this week it is hitting me harder than ever. Carers Week is supposed to be about recognition. While I am proud of the care I give and proud of the mother I am; I am also grieving the professional I could have been.

This week is Volunteer Week, and I have a busy week in many different voluntary roles! So, it feels like the perfect moment to reflect; each one meaningful in its own way, each one connecting me to people and communities I care deeply about. I hope that by sharing what I do, someone else might feel inspired to take that first step into volunteering too.

As a single parent of two girls, most of our life happens in a shared orbit. My daughters are together almost constantly. My eldest is autistic. She is brilliant; artistic, funny and creative. Yet,…

As a single parent of two girls, most of our life happens in a shared orbit. My daughters are together almost constantly. My eldest is autistic. She is brilliant; artistic, funny and creative. Yet, it also means she can be loud, and easily dysregulated, our home often revolves around keeping her safe and steady. It’s the reality of our home-life, one we try to navigate with love, but also with the quiet knowledge that my youngest carries more than most people realise.

Mental Health Awareness Week has been everywhere: on posters, social media campaigns, well‑meaning reminders to 'take time for yourself.' While I appreciate the intention, this week has mostly highlighted something I already knew far too well: my mental health has not been in a good place. Being a parent‑carer means living in a constant state of juggling. Caring, working, studying, parenting, advocating, firefighting, all at once, all the time, everyday.

I wrote this poem to capture how hard it is to ever truly get a break as a parent carer. There are very few people I can rely on to meet my daughter's needs, and even when I do manage to arrange support, I spend the whole time worrying whether she’s OK. Switching off feels totally alien even when I really want a break, I can’t seem to relax enough to enjoy it.

Autism Acceptance Month invites us to celebrate neurodivergent people, but true acceptance asks for something deeper than a single month of awareness. It means taking the time to understand each autistic person as an individual: their strengths, their needs, their joys, their challenges, and the unique ways they move through the world. This poem, Bring a Parasol and an Umbrella…

The Scottish party manifestos for Holyrood have a core focus on education - here are the main pledges

A poem reflecting on Autism Acceptance month As April folds itself away, the month that speaks of acceptance, there are parts of you that the world finds easy to embrace- but that is not your whole essence. Your imagination spilling light, your joy that lifts the room, your funny ways, your wild ideas, your creativity in bloom. People say, ‘Isn’t she brilliant,’

I know a lot of autistic people and their families have very mixed feelings about Autism Acceptance Month. Yet, as we enter April it has caused me to pause and reflect and what acceptance really me…

Help the Inspiring Disabilities Group Go on Their Next Big Ad… Jack Kane Community Centre needs your support for Jack Kane Community Centre's Inspiring Disabilities Group

Convenor and Elected Members of the Education, Children and Families Committee, Officers and Senior Managers of The City of Edinburgh Council responsible for Holiday Hubs, The City of Edinburgh…