It’s taken a bit of time to write this, owing to more related Long Covid illness. (No one speaks to the fatigue! And how much time is spent just resting as a result. Fun. This is a new thing that took me out for approx 10 days total. Ugh.)
Last month I was a speaker at Naidex, a disability conference in the UK - where you get stands and stalls, seminars and… things like an adaptive climbing wall. I really enjoyed it last year, especially because it felt like being a part of something, even belonging, for the first time. I was a part of AccessAble, but was also allowed to go around - even going up said climbing wall. It was a year to the day since catching Covid, and a **** you to Omicron was needed.

Here are 3 things I learned from the experience, meanwhile. Meanwhile, if you like my work, please consider supporting this newsletter - such as buying me a coffee for £1, or by taking up a paid for subscription.
See you soon x
Speaking is something I sort of fell into by accident, owing to the pandemic; within 1 week of the first lockdown in the UK, I had lost all of my freelance income, and had scrambled to plug the gap as quickly as possible. The advent of live events online en masse ended up being something of a saviour in that respect - that included being on panels, interviews, even going into in-person events at times.
(That I had a small ‘foot’ in - I’d ‘performed’ at a poetry night before on occasion. A story for another time.)
I was given the chance to speak at Naidex; this was always going to be an interesting challenge in trying not to set off the ‘Covid-y’ bits of me. (Anything anxiety inducing does that - the subject for another newsletter.) So. Game, set, match. This is what I learned.
1. Be Upfront About Your Fees
I freelance - and I don’t do anything for free. Asides from this newsletter, occasionally. And that includes me being an ambassador for AccessAble - I don’t do anything for free. To be disabled costs more, according to Scope, at just slightly over £500 a month - and exposure is not going to pay my rent or bills. There is an expectation on disabled individuals to work for free, seemingly, yet then we are also somehow labelled as ‘scroungers’ for also having help from the state. Make it make sense. You wouldn’t ask a conventional contractor to work for free - and my generation shouldn’t have to work for ‘exposure’, either.
Speaking is work! The expectation of doing this for free is completely absurd. It takes research, preparation, the formulation of slides, resources - and then actually speaking to people. As in, an audience.
All of this is work. And you should be paid for it. Equally.
I find often that the inverse expectation can be highly gendered - enough to believe that when partaking in previous events, men have either been paid when I have not been, or have been paid more for the same amount of work.
So, if you are speaking, be upfront about your fees and what you offer from the get-go. It’s standard behaviour.
If there’s any contract involved, it should be reasonable in its terms - and unions can advise you on that if needed.
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2. Have A Plan! (Or Script.)
This will be the subject of another newsletter, but in short: my brain has created a hell loop of sorts. The loop sets off a host of Long Covid symptoms at the best of times, especially when anxious or worried, upset or nervous about something. Covid left me a lot more anxious in the immediate aftermath, which is something I’d noted in other Long Covid patients - that there was seemingly more anxiety that they were left with. This has definitely been the case for me.
So. I have a plan. For when it all gets a bit much.
While I wait for the next appointment that should put a care plan in place, likely to be in a month and a half, I needed to improvise in circumventing potential circumstances that would set the symptoms off. Anxiety is a feminist issue, I would argue - and women seem to plan for just about pretty much everything.
I had my water, a tangle to expel potential anxious energy, as well as my cane to keep me upright. It didn’t work fully in that you can only minimise in that respect. There was a slight screw up that had gone on during, but it seemed to go alright.
3. Stand Up The Work Enough To Talk About It
In other words: know what you’re talking about to talk about it!
It sounds obnoxious to even just type, but knowing what you’re talking about - in having done the research, creating the slides, you’re going to need to know what you’re speaking about.
The talk was about how to dismantle culinary culture - the expectations that are so often arbitrary and counterproductive that we all have culturally - through the power of neurodiversity. This was based off the back of my debut book - and having researched this enough, I don’t quite know how I managed to speak for half an hour. Probably with a lot of panic.
Anyway: the content of whatever you are speaking to needs to be stood up, like in the newspaper sense.
Afterwards, there were around maybe 6 or 7 people who had follow up questions to ask - and very often in great depth, sometimes going into a place I had yet to consider. This was also at an event where there were multiple communication styles - and it needed to be adapted to. A woman who was non-verbal was using an AAC device to ask very specific questions - such as if sensory needs can develop and change while an Autistic person ages. She’d also interact with others by lightly pulling at their arms to get their attention. But we had a full on conversation - and discussed a lot.
(Even if I was panicking underneath, because it’s an audience to speak to…)
If you’d like to hire me as a speaker, let’s talk! You can contact me on here to discuss.
My debut book is out now - and this is what people are saying about it.
“The Autism Friendly Cookbook is a striking manifesto on the importance of accessibility in cooking. With adaptations front and centre, this book from Lydia Wilkins is sure to become a kitchen staple.”
- Natasha Lipman, journalist and host of The Rest Room podcast:
“Cooking is one of the foundations of independent living. This charming, inviting book is designed to make this basic life-skill accessible to everyone. It's not just a collection of tantalizing recipes, it's a celebration of autistic community.”
- Steve Silberman, author of NeuroTribes: The Legacy of Autism and the Future of Neurodiversity:
“A delightful guide full of important information for neurodivergent foodies - we've needed this for years!”
- Chloe Johnson, editor at Disability Review Magazine
The Catch Up
I am taking part in a webinar this month on the 17th - reply to this email for the private booking link.
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