Having a flashback to a memory long forgotten…

A rainy day in London last December 2022 reminded me of the journey I took to get where I am now in a very unexpected way. It had been pouring down for days, and my poor daughter had gotten drenched. Seeing her soaked from head to toe was worrying, especially with her typically heavy backpack which had become heavier and heavier as it got soaked.

It was clear she needed a better backpack, and I had heard all about water-repellent wax-coated versions. So, I went online and found a website selling everything from coats to bags, all rain resistant and waterproof, which is ideal. As I delved into the website further, a lump hit my throat. This company "Gandys," was set up by two brothers orphaned in the 2004 Tsunami. As I sat staring, the laptop's light illuminating my face, pictures of the needed backpacks staring back, I felt a flood of memories rushing in about that awful day of The Boxing Day Tsunami in 2004.

26 December 2004 – the day so many lives changed.

Back on that fateful day, I was working on a project called ‘Havering Hospital,’ now called Queen Elizabeth Hospital. The architectural studio was quiet, and I had a few colleagues with me. I had been in the studio a few minutes when my co-worker, the lovely Patrick, arrived; he asked me if I had seen the morning news. No, I answered. I was on a news moratorium; I was pregnant at the time and found watching the news upset me. I was more interested in the pastries he had promised to bring - I was always hungry no matter how much I ate. He looked at me again, raising his eyebrow, and said, "So you don't know?" "I don't know what?" I replied, "The tsunami!" he said.

I was baffled, but he pulled his chair beside me as I looked in disbelief at the BBC news headlines. I remember feeling sick thinking about the countless lives lost in this disaster. Patrick made me a sweet tea. He knew how to look after me well, but I was in shock. A sense of helplessness washed over me, and I couldn't get myself to work.

I started typing an email to my sister, overwhelmed with sadness. The combination of the terrible news and the hormones already rushing around my system was causing a real existential crisis over what life was all about. As I typed, I stopped dead. I couldn't even spell the words “Tsunami” or “chaos”.

One tiny seed of doubt that just kept on growing

My worries just kept on snowballing out of control. I was terrible at spelling. I knew it, my assistant knew it, and the whole architecture studio I worked in knew 'spelling' was not my thing. I was a designer, not a wordsmith, but as I sat there, all the thoughts jumbled, tasting a mixture of hot sweet tea and salty tears, and my thoughts went to my unborn child. What sort of world was this child being born into? Could one giant wave wash us away too? What was I doing with my life anyway? What was I doing at work on Boxing Day?

It was the most bizarre morning I remember. A series of random thoughts kept going through my mind. I just kept feeling and thinking there had to be more than this. What sort of mum would I be? How would I cope? As I was having these scattered thoughts, my abysmal spelling skills also came to mind. I felt like such a phoney. How could an architectural graduate be so useless at spelling? How would I teach my child if I couldn't spell myself? This was a tragic day and a bad day to have a wash of pregnancy hormones confusing the tiny brain I carried in my head.

My revelation at Waterstones

On my way home, I decided to console myself with a trip to the Notting Hill Branch of Waterstones. It was my favourite haunt with its selection of architectural books, and I always found it a comforting place. However, for some reason this day, I don’t head to the architecture section but found myself among the psychology shelves (another word I couldn’t spell at the time!) It proved to be a real watershed moment in my life.

It was on this day, 26th December 2004, that my new obsession with child development began, as did what I now think of as my true vocation in life. I decided there and then that no child of mine would be poor at spelling! This was the moment I met all my demons. I didn’t think of it as a new career possibility just yet – I was still a designer – but a seed had been planted.

The magnitude of that day's world news sealed my determination to make the most of whatever time I had in this world. I needed to fix my spelling problems and make sure those skills were ready for when school would begin for my unborn child. It would be a long journey, but I was now prepared to roll up my sleeves and take on the challenge.

Back to today

Looking online for the wax-coated backpack put me right back in that hat day, and made me realise what a big moment it was. As I reflect eighteen years later, I know I did the best thing for me, the best for my daughter and all the other countless children I have helped learn how to spell, read and write. Yes, it is raining today and has been for the entire day. We should be grateful it will not wash us all away like the parents of the founders of Gandys. These moments are a lesson from life to always focus on what is really most important to us.

From that day on, I have grown and grown my passion for all things to do with learning and education. I am proud to say that passion has helped me to help others in turn – check out my testimonials page for more info! I am still on that journey, especially as the field of neurodivergence is so vast. I have fixed my spelling problems and helped my daughter, and countless other children, learn to read, write and spell.

PS: Photo at the top of the page is me!

Taken on the 10th January 2023 when my daughter was offered a place to study at University. #FeelingHappy

If you are a parent struggling to help your child, know that help is only ever a Zoom call away! I look forward to talking to you soon.

Dyslexia? Dyspraxia? ADHD? ASD? Speech & Language? Developmental Delay? Anxiety?

Is every school day a struggle? As a parent, you may feel exhausted and on this journey alone. Each year you see the gap getting wider. You need to do something - change the approach, help your child learn for themselves, find a way to turn this around before it is too late and they won’t listen - do this NOW. the first step is free.