I had not been to London in about eight years. Back then I handled it. The pace, the noise, the constant movement. This time I went as a mum. And as a thirty-seven-year-old who is far more aware of her nervous system than she used to be.
London with kids is not just a city break. It is logistics. It is bodies, bags, snacks, toilets, directions, and trying not to lose anyone while navigating escalators that feel like vertical conveyor belts of chaos.
The Underground was the hardest part. The heat, the screeching brakes, the air, the crowds pressed in too close. It was overstimulating in a way I do not remember before. By the end of the weekend I had the same cough I had back in January. Whether that is pollution, recycled air, or my body reacting to overload, I do not know. I just know my system felt fried.
We queued fifteen minutes to get into the Lego Store. I used to love Lego as a child. Now all I can see are tiny, expensive hazards waiting to be stood on at 2am. Motherhood really does rewire you.
M&M World was great, colourful, loud, sensory heaven and sensory hell all at once. The kids loved it. I paid £10 for a medium bag of self-serve cookie dough M&Ms and questioned my life choices. Apparently joy is inflation-adjusted.
“I love London, I love the theatre and all the hustle and bustle, it feels like anything is possible. Yet that anything, did not account for sensory overload.”
ADHD gIRL
The highlight was the Harry Potter Studio Tour. Busy, yes. But thoughtful. The sensory room was small, but it mattered. A quiet space to reset, breathe, step away from the crowds. Accessibility does not have to be huge to be meaningful. Sometimes a small calm room is enough.
What London showed me most, though, was this: sensory overwhelm does not disappear with age. If anything, as you become more self-aware, you notice it more.
And I cannot help wondering whether mental health plays a part. The last couple of months have not been my strongest. When your baseline is already fragile, your tolerance for noise, crowds, heat and unpredictability shrinks. Everything feels louder. Closer. Sharper.
I still love London. I just need to do it differently now. Slower. Shorter bursts. With planned breaks. And maybe fewer tube journeys.
Thirty-seven is not old. It is just aware.
