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If you’ve ever been told your child is overreacting, being difficult, or needs firmer boundaries, you’re not alone.

And if that advice has ever made you think, “But you don’t see what it costs them just to get through the day” — you’re probably right.

Because what often gets labelled as “bad behaviour” isn’t behaviour at all.

It’s a nervous system that’s had enough.

When everyday life feels unbearable

This might look familiar:

Your child melts down over socks.
Noise at school leaves them shattered.
Busy places end in tears, rage, or total shutdown.
Transitions are exhausting.
They hold it together all day — then collapse at home.

From the outside, it can look like drama or defiance.

From the inside, it feels like being completely overwhelmed.

Sensory overload isn’t a child being naughty or manipulative. It’s what happens when their nervous system is taking in more than it can process — and it has no way to put the brakes on.

The bit that often gets missed

A child’s nervous system is doing one job all day long:

Am I safe?

Safe enough to learn.
Safe enough to listen.
Safe enough to cope with what’s coming next.

To answer that question, the body relies on things most of us never think about:
movement, balance, body awareness, early reflexes, and sensory information.

When those foundations are solid, the world feels manageable.

When they’re not, everything feels loud, fast, and threatening.

Why some children feel everything more intensely

Many children who struggle with sensory overload have nervous systems that are working overtime just to stay regulated.

Often, this links back to primitive reflexes — early movement patterns we’re all born with, which are meant to fade as the nervous system matures.

When they don’t fully integrate, the body can stay on high alert.

That doesn’t mean anything is “wrong”.
It means the system is still doing a job it was meant to outgrow.

What this can look like day to day

When primitive reflexes are still active, ordinary sensory input can feel like a threat.

That can show up as:

• extreme sensitivity to noise, touch, or movement
• difficulty sitting still or concentrating
• anxiety, panic, or sudden emotional explosions
• exhaustion after school
• big feelings over seemingly small things

These responses aren’t chosen.

They’re automatic.

And no amount of “pull yourself together” will switch them off.

Why behaviour charts don’t touch the sides

This is where so many parents get stuck.

You try reward systems.
Consequences.
Calm-down scripts.
Visual timetables.

And nothing really shifts — because all of those assume the child is in control in that moment.

But when a nervous system is overloaded:

• reasoning disappears
• language goes offline
• self-regulation just isn’t available

You can’t talk a body out of panic.

You have to help it feel safe first.

Regulation before learning (always)

For many children, sensory overload, anxiety, and learning difficulties are all tangled together.

Before a child can:

• focus
• write
• read
• follow instructions

Their body needs to feel grounded and organised.

That’s why movement-based, nervous-system-led support can be so powerful — not because it “fixes” a child, but because it supports the foundations that everything else sits on.

What actually helps

Supporting a child with sensory overload isn’t about pushing them to tolerate more.

It’s about:

• reducing unnecessary stress on their system
• using gentle, specific movement
• building regulation slowly, from the body up
• creating safety, not compliance

Often it’s the small, consistent things that make the biggest difference.

Not quick fixes.
Not magic.
Just support that actually makes sense.

A different way of seeing your child

If I could leave you with one thing, it would be this:

Your child isn’t broken.
They’re not failing.
They’re not “too much”.

Their nervous system may just be working far harder than it should.

And when we stop asking “How do I stop this behaviour?”
and start asking “What does their nervous system need?”
everything shifts.

If this feels uncomfortably familiar…

Trust that instinct.

You’re not imagining it — and you’re certainly not alone.

If you’d like to explore a calmer, body-led way of supporting sensory overload, you can find out more about my work at Move2Connect.

No pressure.
No labels.
Just support that meets children where they are.

For the past 3 years, our child attended an independent special school—one we had chosen carefully, hoping it would provide the specialist support and emotional safety he needed. We spent £18,000 on private reports and legal fees to evidence a place at this school. At the time, we believed it was the best place for him. We believed that expertise and empathy would safeguard his wellbeing.

But over the past year, everything changed.

This is not a story we ever expected to tell. Yet it is one that speaks directly to the themes of Move2Connect: nervous system development, safety, stress, trauma, and the deep need children have for attuned, trustworthy environments.

When the Warning Signs Began

Looking back, the earliest signs were small—subtle inconsistencies, communication gaps, moments that didn’t align with good safeguarding practice or trauma-informed values. Initially, we rationalised them. Parents often do. We want to believe the professionals caring for our children are doing their best.

But gradually, the pattern became impossible to ignore.

There were incidents we couldn’t reconcile. Decisions that didn’t make sense. Responses that left us uneasy. And over time, our child’s nervous system started telling us what the school would not: he did not feel safe anymore.

When Advocacy Became a Full-Time Job

As concerns escalated, we took every step we were supposed to take—raising safeguarding issues, reporting incidents, requesting clarity, asking for support. Instead of reassurance, however, we were met with defensive language, inconsistent documentation, and a culture that made the simple act of asking questions feel adversarial.

What unfolded was something many SEND families will recognise:

• Missing or contradictory records
• Complaint documents that didn’t match what had actually been sent
• Professionals minimising concerns or pathologising parental stress
• Agencies repeatedly signposting us to each other with no clear accountability

Meanwhile, our child’s anxiety and sensory stress rose sharply.
Meanwhile, we tried to hold everything together—to stay calm, to stay rational, to keep him safe.

When a Parent’s Nervous System Reaches Breaking Point

The turning point came when our GP—who also serves as safeguarding lead—met with us and recognised the seriousness of what was happening. She recorded her concern directly into our child’s NHS file. She listened. She validated what we had been living with for months.

And that moment changed everything.

Because chronic hypervigilance is not sustainable.
Because no family should have to chase safeguarding agencies for action.
Because no child should be asked to endure an environment their nervous system experiences as unsafe.

Leaving the School

Ultimately, we made the difficult but necessary decision:
our child could not return to that school.

By that point, he was exhausted, withdrawn, and overwhelmed by peer relationships and staff interactions that repeatedly left him dysregulated. The setting was no longer emotionally or physically safe for him, and we had no choice but to remove him.

He has not been back since.

Where We Are Now: EOTAS and Legal Processes

Our child is now out of school and waiting for Education Otherwise Than at School (EOTAS) to be formally agreed. The situation is being examined through several formal routes at once:

• A complaint to the Local Government and Social Care Ombudsman
• A SEND Tribunal appeal
• Preparation for Judicial Review

This was never the path we expected, nor the one we wanted. But when trust breaks down so completely, and when safeguarding concerns are not addressed, families are left with no other route.

The Ripple Effect on the Whole Family

His sibling has also been affected—becoming increasingly clingy and unsettled as he watched the emotional strain unfold at home. My own health, studies, and career progression have been impacted by the relentless advocacy required. These are the unseen consequences that rarely feature in policy discussions, but are very real for families like ours.

Safeguarding failures do not happen in isolation.
They reverberate through every corner of family life.

Why I’m Sharing This

I’m sharing this not to apportion blame, but because families in the SEND system often endure experiences that remain hidden, minimised, or dismissed.

A child’s nervous system tells the truth long before paperwork does.

Children cannot learn in environments that feel unsafe.
Parents cannot thrive when safeguarding concerns are ignored.
And systems cannot claim to protect children if they are unwilling to hear uncomfortable truths.

Moving Forward

Our child is now safe at home.
We are building an EOTAS package that will genuinely meet his needs—supporting his sensory profile, his learning style, and his emotional wellbeing.

The processes ahead may be long, but they are necessary.
And in the meantime, our priority is rebuilding his sense of safety, stability, and confidence.

At Move2Connect, I often emphasize to my clients the importance of paying attention to their sleep and dreams. Why might dream interpretation be such a key element? Because our dreams can offer profound insights into the state of our nervous system, emotional health, and even our progress in overcoming challenges.

Primitive Reflexes and the Limbic System (emotions)

When clients begin working on integrating reflexes like the Fear Paralysis Reflex (FPR) or Moro Reflex, or when they start using the Safe and Sound Protocol (SSP), something fascinating often happens: they start having vivid, sometimes downright wacky dreams. These dreams are more than just amusing anecdotes; they can be a sign of improved connection to the limbic system (the brain’s emotional center), trauma processing, and personal growth.

Why Some People Don’t Dream

It’s not that people don’t dream—it’s that they often don’t remember their dreams. This can reflect an imbalance in the nervous system or a brain that feels “disconnected.” However, as they engage in neuroplasticity exercises or sensory integration therapies, they frequently report back with vivid dream experiences. This shift is a powerful indicator that their brain is reawakening in exciting and restorative ways.

Sleep Challenges and the Nervous System

Struggling to fall asleep, waking up multiple times during the night, or feeling like you can’t get out of bed are all reflective of the state of your nervous system. Sleep disturbances often stem from stress, unresolved trauma, or an overactive fight-or-flight response. Addressing these through tools like early movement patterns or the SSP can lead to better sleep, improved emotional regulation, and—yes—more meaningful dreams.

A Personal Reflection on Parenting and Dreams

Currently, I’m navigating a tricky situation with my eldest son’s school. He’s a high-learning-potential (HLP) child with slow processing speed, which creates a unique set of challenges for educators. While his school is supportive, it’s clear that his unmet needs are impacting his sense of safety and happiness.

We’ve requested an annual review of his Education, Health, and Care Plan (EHCP) to explore a better-suited setting. This process is complex and emotionally taxing, but I’m fortunate to have tools that help me stay grounded and resilient.

As a parent, it’s easy to feel the weight of responsibility, especially when advocating for a child’s needs. This can sometimes lead professionals to misplace blame on a parent’s mental state rather than addressing systemic issues. Thankfully, in our case, the local authority and our SENCo have been proactive and supportive, giving me hope for a positive resolution.

Dream Interpretation

Last night, I had a peculiar dream:

I dreamt that my husband and I rented a flimsy microlight from our local ice rink. The manager didn’t even ask for a pilot’s license! As we took off through a tiny gap in the trees, we clipped some branches and later landed in someone’s garden. The owners welcomed us with tea and Jaffa cakes but kept delaying our departure with irrelevant anecdotes. Eventually, we made it back to the ice rink, returning the microlight in one piece.

What does this mean? While I’m not a professional dream interpreter, I believe my subconscious was working through my current situation. To me, the dream suggested that while we know we’re navigating the right path, those currently in charge (the school system) may not fully grasp the stakes. Despite setbacks, we must keep pushing forward to avoid lasting harm. Weirdly, in real life, the ice rink is my safe space, but then we did visit a seasonal rink last week with very poorly maintained ice, so I expect my brain has made the link between poor ice maintenance and renting out microlights without any knowledge of licensing requirements!

This realization gave me the clarity and determination to pursue an EHCP review and advocate for change, so I’ve just bitten the bullet and sent off an email this morning.

What Are Your Dreams Telling You?

Your dreams can provide powerful insights into your emotional health, unresolved challenges, and even your progress in neuroplasticity work. If you’re curious about what your sleep patterns and dreams might be revealing—or if you’re struggling with sleep and want to explore how reflex integration can help—let’s connect.

Book a free discovery call here and start your journey toward better sleep, emotional balance, and personal growth.

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By optimizing your sleep and addressing nervous system imbalances, you’ll be amazed at the changes not only in your dreams but in your daily life.