Animals have always been my escape from the challenges of living with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD). As a child struggling in mainstream education, I would come home from a horrendous day at school and disappear into books and nature programmes. I was obsessed with animals from an early age and when I was two, my mum started taking me to Africa Alive, the conservation zoo near our home in East Anglia.
Walking through the gates was like the flick of a switch: my vanished immediately as I was captivated by the beautiful patterns and vibrant colours of the zebras, giraffes and flamingos. When I sat on a pony for the first time aged six, I felt safe. We were at Fritton Lake on the Suffolk-Norfolk border, one of my favourite days out when I was younger.
It had a riding centre and my mum would later treat me to a pony ride whenever she could. The thrill of being in the saddle each time would leave me beaming from ear to ear. I found the ponies so peaceful to be around.
I knew that they would never ridicule or bully me. It took a long time to get my ASD diagnosis. I was 11 and had missed out on the early intervention that would have helped me navigate the challenges I went on to face.
The social difficulties that autism brings, coupled with , meant that I struggled to talk to almost anyone, and I didn’t understand why I felt different. By 14, mainstream school had become unbearable. Bullies would throw food, punches and verbal abuse my way with a relentless determination to destr.