and I’ve Stopped Apologising for it.
8th November
My son has never liked fireworks, and for years I felt I should somehow find a way to make Bonfire Night enjoyable for him.
I would think about where we could go, how far away we could stand and whether headphones would help. There must be some way of doing it, surely?
But he didn’t want to go. The noise upset him, and not knowing when the next bang would come made it worse. While I was looking for ways to make the evening work, he wanted the fireworks to stop.
It took me longer than I would like to admit to understand that staying home was a perfectly reasonable choice.
It goes on for more than one night
Bonfire Night has passed now, but that doesn’t necessarily mean the fireworks have finished.
They start before Halloween and carry on beyond 5th November. You can be at home, getting on with an ordinary evening, when someone nearby lets one off. There is no warning and no way of knowing whether that will be the only one.
For my son, that uncertainty has always been difficult. He would ask when they would start, how long they would last and whether we would hear them inside. Could we close the windows? Could we put some music on?
I wanted to give him an answer, but often I couldn’t. I didn’t know what the neighbours were planning or how late the noise would continue.
That is a difficult thing to help your child with. You can prepare for an organised display if you know when it is happening. You cannot prepare for every firework someone decides to set off in their garden.
I felt guilty about staying home
I knew the noise bothered him. What I struggled with was the feeling that we should still be able to enjoy Bonfire Night as a family. I even climbed a hill that overlooked the bonfire and fireworks in the hope of less crowds and noise. The walk was too long.
You see other families going to displays, having hot chocolate and taking photos. It is presented as something children love, so when your child finds it distressing, it can leave you wondering whether you should be doing something differently.
I kept looking for a version he could manage. Perhaps a smaller display or somewhere further away would be better. Perhaps we could watch for a little while and leave. I even climbed a hill that overlooked the bonfire and fireworks in the hope of less crowds and noise. The walk was too long, and tiring walking uphill.
Looking back, I can see how much pressure I put on myself to make it work. I wanted him to have a nice experience, but I was measuring that against what other families seemed to enjoy. My own expectation to be like everyone else.
We stopped trying to make an evening of it
I cannot remember exactly when my thinking changed. Eventually, though, we stopped trying to find a display that would suit him and stayed home. We put a film on and let the evening pass. (Cars).
He could still hear the fireworks. Staying inside didn’t remove the noise or suddenly make him comfortable with it. But at least he was in familiar surroundings, without the added pressure of being somewhere he didn’t want to be.
I began to question what I thought he was missing out on. If an evening left him frightened and overwhelmed, why was I so determined to find a way for him to take part?
I wasn’t deliberately trying to push him. I thought I was helping. But listening to him meant accepting that he might never enjoy fireworks, however carefully I planned it.
I wish I had accepted that sooner. It would have saved us both a lot of worry.
It is something to consider on holiday too
I think about this when planning travel. Fireworks can be part of New Year celebrations, theme park evenings and local events. When you are booking a holiday, it is easy to focus on the hotel, the journey and what there is to do nearby. Whether there will be fireworks might never occur to you.
If they are difficult for someone in your family, it is a question worth asking. Does the hotel hold displays? Does a nearby attraction use fireworks? Are there celebrations planned during your stay?
Knowing beforehand will not make everyone comfortable with the noise, and it will not account for every unexpected bang. It can, however, give you time to decide what would help and where you would prefer to be.
I know from my own experience how much harder it is to think through those choices when your child is already upset.
We don’t all have to enjoy the same things
Some neurodivergent people love fireworks. Others find them very difficult. Even within the same family, people can feel completely differently about them.
My son doesn’t enjoy them. I don’t need to keep testing that or finding new ways to persuade him that this year might be different.
If your child struggles too, you do not have to turn Bonfire Night into an activity. You can stay home, do something familiar and support them through the noise as best you can.
And if you are a neurodivergent adult who finds fireworks overwhelming, you deserve to have that taken seriously as well. Being older doesn’t mean the noise suddenly becomes easier.
I still wish I could make the fireworks season less difficult for my son. What has changed is that I no longer feel we owe anyone an explanation for not joining in. He has tried to tell me what he finds difficult.
How do you manage fireworks, either for yourself or with your child? Has anything made this time of year easier? Let me know in the comments.
Jemma Wild
Founder, Nero Divergent Travel
Neurodivergent Travel Specialist | Personalised Travel Planning & Support for Neurodivergent persons
Tags: neurodivergent fireworks, autism and fireworks, ADHD and fireworks, Bonfire Night sensory, sensory overload, neurodivergent parenting, SEND family, fireworks anxiety, neurodivergent families, sensory fireworks, Bonfire Night neurodivergent
