I am autistic

“School’s out for summer!” For most kids, the summer holidays are a time to kick back and relax, spend time with friends and family, and enjoy life without the pressures of school. 

In all honesty, I planned to write and post this blog piece at the start of the summer holidays here in Scotland. But in true autistic fashion, as if to prove the point of this blog, I was hit by procrastination and overwhelm. I moved home at the end of my second year at university, and the subsequent weeks were spent resting and recovering from the year past. I then started working, which left me no emotional energy for anything else. Yet now, in August, here I am. The schools have now gone back but, without further ado, here is why I, as an autistic child, hated school holidays!

For someone who, more often than not, did not enjoy school, it would have been expected that I eagerly anticipated school holidays. However, the last weeks of term were always anxiety filled for me. Be it summer, Christmas, October or Easter – whatever promises of sunny days, chocolate eggs or even presents from Santa – I never felt the excitement that I felt I should. The days and weeks leading up to holidays were always fun – or at least they were supposed to be! Days filled with school trips, assemblies and films in class. Meant to wind us all down, these special occasions always wound me up. I found school chaotic enough. Add in all of the extra activities and changes, I found it hard to cope. 

My favourite part of school was always the schoolwork. I often refer to myself as a self-proclaimed nerd because there is really no other way to say it. I enjoyed learning. I would much rather sit and do maths problems than play games or watch films. When you are given work to do in a classroom, the instructions are clear and you know what is expected of you for that lesson. Put a film on, and I don’t know how long it last; if I will find it scary or miss the jokes; or what I should do when I start to feel fidgety. And I could never ignore the people who started whispering to their friends during a film as well! 

There are also more subtle changes, that I don’t think people would consider. Christmas meals for school dinner for example: gravy covered meats and soggy vegetables replace the same meals we’ve been eating for months.  Different foods, busy assemblies, loud songs, and trips to places new and uncertain – the end of term often caused me a lot of anxiety. 

It didn’t get much better when the holidays began. Summer; six weeks of “freedom.” Could you go away on holiday? Go to a holiday camp? Meet up with your friends? Being autistic makes all these things hard. Without the routine of school, the holidays need planning, support and heaps of effort. Even when I had friendships in primary school, they were very situational. Having to go to someone’s house, where all of the rules, food, and toys, were different – it was tricky. I didn’t like playing with no structure. Take break time at school, for example. It was always in the same place, with the same people, and would always be 30 minutes. It was manageable. I used to get so anxious going round to my friends’ houses in case I would be stuck there forever. Of course, I knew I would go home at some point, but I would miss my parents, begging silently for them to come and take me home, and an impromptu sleepover was always looming. 

Structured holiday camps were unfortunately not much better. I attended quite a few as a kid and – whilst I’m sure my parents were grateful for the childcare (and a break) – mainstream clubs don’t consider neurodivergent children, especially when they’re undiagnosed like I was. Sports were always loud and busy, and crafts would be too messy. Whilst both things I loved at home, I didn’t find it easy to enjoy my hobbies in an unfamiliar environment. I also can’t develop trust quickly, so I would struggle to ask the staff for help, instead standing quietly in the corner. Whilst I was thankfully never bullied at school, I have memories of being teased or left out at these holiday camps. It wasn’t easy for me to make new friends, especially when they had friends from school or had attended the camp before. The relief of the week ending was always comforting, but it didn’t allow for a fun or relaxing holiday. 

On another note, my parents took me on some amazing holidays abroad. They always supported me when visiting new places. It was never easy, but it was always worth it. We also went back to the same flat in Northern Ireland for five years in a row. They didn’t know I was autistic then, but this repetition was heaven to me. With all of my home comforts, and with my parents there beside me, I loved those times. But when you return home after two weeks away, reality was always hard-hitting. 

I have always found it important for my mental health to keep busy, but balancing that with burnout and overwhelm is like walking a tight rope. The holidays should be a time to relax and recover from the weeks of masking at school, but too easily I could retreat into myself and feel very sad. Often, I only wanted to do things with my mum and dad, because when I’m anxious or upset, I get very attached to them (something that still happens now at 20). But my parents had to work and, whilst they encouraged me to be independent, it caused tension in the holidays because I wanted to in the house all day. Kids don’t always make the right choices, and, on reflection, my parents have always known what’s best for me – even if I didn’t always listen. 

So, there is a handful of reasons why I, as an autistic child, did not like school holidays – and I could probably name a lot more. Now, back to school? That’s a blog post for another day. For now, be mindful of the changes to routine that school holidays can bring to autistic children, and consider how to structure their time with fun activities, friendships, and new places – in a way that is supportive for them.