by Tom Delahunt the #hobopoet, and Dr Ken Powell

“Mirror mirror on the wall, will my child be the most neurodiverse of them all?” 

If you fall into the void, 
Where the noise of the world fades away, 
There, in the silence, you meet yourself— 
The truth kept hidden, unspoken, 
The self the world has never seen. 

In that space, there is company, 
Not the fleeting kind, but the one that knows you fully, 
The form that’s been kept in shadow, 
And still, you love what you find. 

This is the birth of self-love, 
Not from perfection, but from the truth of being.

Here begins a conversation, 
Not of words, but of knowing, 
A meeting of the truest parts of you, 
Where mutuality blossoms, 
And the friendship is the foundation 
Of something new. 

The lamb, lost in its wandering, 
The butterfly, in its metamorphosis— 
These are not just images in the mind, 
But metaphors for change, 
For a world reimagined, 

Where education and society 
Can open their wings and fly 
Into a future shaped by truth, 
Mutual respect, and understanding. 

The concept of self-love is often talked about in vague terms—celebrating the good parts of ourselves, honouring our strengths. But what if real self-love isn’t just about affirming what we see in the mirror? What if it’s about falling into the void, confronting the parts of ourselves that have been hidden, and still choosing to love what we find? 

As neurodivergent individuals, we often navigate systems built to accommodate only a narrow definition of success. For many of us, wearing a mask becomes a survival strategy. It’s not just about hiding our differences; it’s about adapting to a world that doesn’t see or understand our full potential. But what happens when we decide to take off that mask? 

For me, the turning point came when my children were diagnosed. I was forced to look inward, to see myself in their struggles. The systems we navigate—both in academia and in the broader world—aren’t designed for neurodivergence. So, we “cheat” the system, conforming to its standards, even though they don’t serve us. 

But in that moment of personal reflection, there was a breakthrough. A space opened up for me to break free from the fixed mindset that had shaped my thinking for so long. I allowed my children, especially my eldest, the freedom to self-present without fear of judgment. This, I realized, was not only liberating for him, but for me too. It wasn’t just about breaking the system—it was about seeing the truest, most authentic version of myself and embracing it. 

I was able to connect with Dr. Ken Powell in this shared experience. Both of us had navigated our growth through the diagnosis of our children, and it became clear that our understanding of the growth mindset was evolving. Growth isn’t about fitting into a prescribed mould. It’s about finding the space where we can truly be ourselves and allowing that to shape our trajectory. 

This journey is a call to other neurodivergent individuals, to academics, to anyone struggling to find their place. It’s an invitation to step into a space of mutuality and kindness. It’s okay to shed the mask. We are not alone in our struggles. We are collectively growing new spaces where safety and acceptance are paramount. 

And just as the lamb wanders and the butterfly transforms, these images are not just metaphors; they represent the kind of educational and societal change we need to see. A world where we no longer hide our true selves in fear but instead allow our authentic expressions to shape our shared reality. 

We are all on a journey of becoming—one that involves not just survival, but a reclamation of our truth. In that truth, we find our strength. It is through embracing who we are, in all our complexity, that we can begin to change the world around us. 

https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=HT_Zs5FKDZE

Dr Ken Powell…. On the drums…. 

As Tom mentions, it was a real positive to find that we both had been able to undergo self-development and understand through helping our children navigate their diagnosis. For me, this was especially the case as the world my son is growing up is so different to the one in which I did. As a child of the ‘70s from a small ex-mining rural area, there was not an awareness, let alone an understanding, of neurodiversity. I was always aware that I didn’t “fit in” in the same way that my brother and friends did at school, I was just considered different – a bit of a nerd even. 

My son was able to be diagnosed and supported with Asperger’s (sorry, still prefer that term) while still at nursey and this has allowed us as his parents to be better prepared to advocate for him, support him and help him grow in his awareness of his differences. 

For me though, the moment of revelation was when we talked to my mum about the questions we had to answer about my son. She told me that she would have answered yes to most of it about me. This made things fall into place for me – I realised that I was probably Asperger’s as well. 

Talking to Tom got me thinking though, we obviously aren’t the only people in this position, so I imagine that there are other academics who have never been diagnosed but who feel different. Although it can be hard to obtain a diagnosis as an adult (I have been told by my GP that locally you can only be diagnosed if you require medication in order to function), it may be something to consider, especially if, like me, you didn’t really understand why other people seemed to have a completely different thought process! 

For me, understanding my neurodiversity has helped me understand why I didn’t fit in and how, although it’s not the approach everybody would want to take, I could act differently so that I was more accepted in work and society. For some this will not be a route they wish or believe they should have to follow but understanding yourself empowers you with deciding these things from a position of knowledge which, as an academic, I believe is a good thing… 

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Understanding our neurodiversity has been a journey of self-discovery, breaking free from the need to conform, and embracing the truth of who we are. Through our shared experiences—both as parents and as academics—we have come to see that real growth comes not from masking but from mutual recognition and acceptance. This blog is an invitation to others who have felt different, unseen, or out of place. In reclaiming our narratives, we can create spaces where authenticity is valued, and where education and society evolve to celebrate the full spectrum of human experience.