I was diagnosed with dyspraxia when I was four years old. 

Four years old. And yet it took most of my childhood and a good part of my adult life for me to really understand what that means. Why so many people around me had got it so wrong. 

If you are a parent, carer or family member supporting a disabled child, young person or adult – including those who are autistic, or if you are autistic yourself and something in your experience has always felt harder than it should, I want to talk to you directly. Because dyspraxia is one of the most misunderstood neurodivergences, and when it co-occurs with autism, the confusion only deepens. 

So what is dyspraxia, exactly? 

Dyspraxia, also known as Developmental Coordination Disorder (DCD), is a neurodevelopmental condition that affects how the brain plans, organises, and carries out movement and actions. But here is what most people get wrong: it is not just about being clumsy. 

Dyspraxia affects coordination, yes. But it also affects memory, organisation, attention, time management, and the sheer cognitive load of getting through an ordinary day. It affects around 1 in 20 people, making it more common than most people realise.  

What it looks like in children and why it is often missed 

Many parents are told “it’s just autism,” “they’ll grow out of it,” or “they just need to try harder. “Schools and services often misread dyspraxia. And when a child is already autistic, those misreadings can become layered and damaging. 

Here are five things that often happen in schools and what is actually going on underneath. 

1. Messy handwriting or slow written work 

What staff see: A child who appears disengaged, careless, or has a learning difficulty. What is happening: Dyspraxia affects fine motor skills, such as writing, cutting, and drawing. The child is not being lazy. Their brain and hand are working much harder than most people realise to form letters on a page. 

2. Poor organisation, losing books, messy desk, forgotten homework 

What staff see: A disorganised child who does not care. What is happening: Dyspraxia affects planning and sequencing. For parents, this can look like constant reminders, daily stress, and feeling like nothing “sticks.” This is often misattributed to executive functioning difficulties linked only to autism, but the dyspraxic dimension is real, distinct, and frequently overlooked. 

3. Clumsiness in PE or on the playground 

What staff see: Awkward body language, unusual movement, social discomfort. What is happening: Poor coordination, balance, and timing. In autistic children, this is frequently read only through the lens of autism, and the motor coordination difficulty underneath goes unaddressed. 

4. Trouble following multi-step instructions 

What staff see: A child who is not listening, or who has processing differences. What is happening: Dyspraxia makes sequencing actions genuinely difficult. A child can hear the instruction perfectly and still struggle to execute it in order. That is not non-compliance. That is the reality of living with dyspraxia. 

5. Avoiding group activities or physical tasks 

What staff see: A child withdrawing, being difficult, or displaying anxiety. What is happening: A child who has learned, through repeated experience, that physical and practical tasks are a place where they will fail or be laughed at. As a parent, you may see growing anxiety, refusal, or low confidence - this is often a protective response, not “behaviour. “I know this one personally. When you spend enough time getting things wrong in public, avoidance becomes the only rational response. 

The point is this: When dyspraxia goes unrecognised in an autistic child, everything gets attributed to autism. The child never gets the right support for the right thing. And over time, that gap quietly does its damage. 

It does not stop at childhood

I need to say this clearly, because it is still not well understood that dyspraxia does not disappear in adulthood. 

Adults with dyspraxia can struggle with organisation, timekeeping, navigation, multitasking, managing demanding environments, and executive functioning — planning, starting tasks, and maintaining routines. It can affect work, relationships, independent living, and mental health in ways that are rarely connected back to dyspraxia, because nobody told them that was the reason. 

If you are supporting an adult, your partner, your grown child, or another family member, and life still feels harder than it should, dyspraxia may be part of the picture. 

A significant number of autistic adults are likely carrying unidentified dyspraxia. If things have always felt harder than they should be, not just in one area but across daily life, that is worth exploring with a professional. 

One more thing, and it matters 

Dyspraxia does not exist in a vacuum. And neither do the people who live with it. 

For some people, particularly those who are Black or from other minoritised communities, being neurodivergent intersects with other layers of disadvantage. When those layers combine, the barriers to being identified, understood, and properly supported become significantly greater. Black children are more likely to be misread, misdiagnosed, or missed altogether. Cultural assumptions about behaviour, ability, and attitude can hinder accurate identification. 

As a parent or carer, if you feel your child is being misunderstood or overlooked, it is important to trust that instinct. 

If that is your experience, or your child's experience, you are not imagining it. It is structural. And it is one of the reasons I do the work I do. 

What actually helps 

Occupational therapy can be transformative at any age. Practical strategies like breaking tasks into smaller steps, using visual supports, allowing extra time, and building in movement breaks make a genuine difference for both children and adults. 

But the single most powerful thing in my experience and in the research is having a name for it. When a child understands that their brain works differently, not worse, it changes how they see themselves. When parents understand it, it changes how they advocate. When schools understand it, it changes what support looks like. 

When families understand it together, it reduces blame, lowers stress, and builds more realistic, compassionate expectations. 

And when adults finally get that name, sometimes decades late, it can reframe an entire life. 

A final thought