The pit of shit that started a service.
From Toy Cupboards to Body Doubling: How I Discovered the Power of Not Doing It Alone
One of my earliest childhood memories is cleaning out my toy cupboard. Sounds kind of middle-class and pathetic, doesn’t it? A whole cupboard just for toys. But let me tell you it was fucking horrific.
It always started off so well. I’d pull everything out, surround myself with treasures, and feel that spark of excitement. This is the beginning of a new me! First few minutes of tidying? Great. I’d neatly put a couple of toys back, admiring my “organisation skills.” But then reality hit and my adhd appeared like a shitty clown in the corner!
I’d look around and suddenly the room was a pit of shit. Stuff everywhere. And me, a little kid, totally overwhelmed. What started as fun turned into pure hell tears, tantrums, arguments with my parents. Actually looking back it was defo an autistic melt down stemming from sensory overload. Honestly, it’s one of my strongest childhood memories.
The Shadow Sister
When my little sister came along (she’s seven years younger), things shifted a bit. Sometimes I loved her, sometimes I wanted to kill her—that’s another story—but she was always there. Like a shadow. Sometimes too shadow like for my liking.
But here’s the thing: just by hanging around, she somehow made it easier. She didn’t tidy. She didn’t really “help.” She was just… there. And her presence gave me energy to keep going. Her presence in normal circumstances made me want to pack my Sesame Street bag and run away but in this instance… it helped!
Fast Forward to Adulthood
Tidying never really became natural to me. My mum is the ultimate mother hen and housekeeper it’s her whole life. Shadow sister is exactly the same 🤦♀️ but that gene skipped me completely. She did so much for us as kids that I never properly learned how to stay on top of mess.
As an adult, I remember dishes piling up, the kitchen in a state, and feeling embarrassed about it. But when it all got too much, I’d grab my kids, sit them on the kitchen counter, and make them chat to me while I washed up. They didn’t have to lift a finger just talking to me got me through it.
Even now, I find washing up a chore. But if someone’s in the background loitering, chatting crap it becomes so much easier.
The Lightbulb Moment
It wasn’t until I got older, and started meeting more neurodivergent people, that I realised this “weird fetish” of mine actually had a name. It’s called body doubling. Yes I’m referring to it as a fetish 🤦♀️
If you’ve never heard of it, body doubling is when having another person present—physically or virtually—helps you focus, start tasks, and actually get them done. They don’t have to help. They don’t even have to talk. They just exist nearby, and somehow it makes the unbearable doable.
Funny thing is, I’d been so annoyed and perplexed at my own child for needing me by his side all the time. He’s autistic with ADHD, and for years I thought, why does he need me everywhere? But then it hit me: I’d been doing the same thing my whole life. So I couldn’t say nothing anymore.
Turning It Into a Service
So I decided to make something of it. I started a service called Body Doubling. Here’s how it works:
We jump on Zoom.
I set a timer for an hour.
Everyone gets on with whatever they need to do—cleaning, paperwork, admin, whatever.
Cameras on or off, no pressure I’m not a body doubling weirdo!
It’s simple, but powerful. Because sometimes, all you need is another human in the room—virtual or otherwise—to get unstuck.
And it all started with that stupid toy cupboard.