My Mum's Story
Every bit of parent support First Step offers exists because of what she taught me, every single day.
The Beginning
From the very start, I was a hard baby. I'd bang my head against the cot, nothing Mum tried was ever quite "right," and no one could tell her why. She wrote it all down anyway, every distressed cry, every failed attempt at settling me, searching for a pattern no one else could see yet. She was exhausted, and she kept going.
Trying to Work Out How to Be Me
All through primary school and high school, I struggled. Mum caught me on our old family computer once, googling "what should my favourite colour be", I didn't even know how to answer that about myself. Sheets that weren't right, socks that weren't right (god, the socks), I'd scream over things no one else seemed to even notice. Mum was constantly at the school advocating for me, fighting for me to be understood, even though she didn't fully understand it herself yet either. I just knew I didn't fit anywhere. I didn't know how to be "me", and everything felt so far beyond scary.
High School Broke Something Open
This is where it gets harder to write, god, sorry Mum. All those years of undiagnosed autism came to a head, and it meant some genuinely interesting phone calls home. I was moved to a reduced timetable. Even that wasn't enough. Eventually I left mainstream school altogether and finished my education through alternative schooling, it was the only reason I made it through at all.
Back then, alternative education wasn't something anyone really talked about. I still don't know what corners of the internet Mum had to dig through to find it, she just did. And no matter how hard I pushed her away, and I pushed hard, she never once gave up on me.
Growing Into Language I Didn't Have Before
I grew up. I made it out. I learned coping mechanisms of my own, though Mum still helped me day to day, some things don't just stop needing support because you're older. But now I finally had the words to thank her, properly, for everything she'd done.
We were still inseparable. She still held me when I cried that the world felt too scary. She still never gave up.
"Remember all the times you said you couldn't do it… and then you did the hard thing anyway?"
Losing My Anchor
In 2022, my mum passed away. I still don't fully know how to put this into words. She was my anchor to the earth, the person who helped me pick my favourite colour when I couldn't, who fixed my socks when nothing felt right, who made absolutely sure I was heard, every single time.
This Is Why
This page exists because of her. Every parent who reaches out to us exhausted, confused, googling into the night trying to find something that doesn't exist yet, I see her in every one of them.
First Step isn't a business built in her memory. It's built from what she taught me, on repeat, every day of my life: that showing up for someone, even before you understand them, is enough.