As a child, I loved playing with slime, as well as the rubber goblin-like hand puppets known as Boglins that were popular in the 1980s. For me, play was all about smell, colour and texture. Creativity became a way of expressing myself when I didn’t have the words to do so. I was diagnosed with autism at the age of six. I couldn’t talk or read people’s body language or facial expressions. My only way of communicating back then was to hum theme tunes from my favourite TV shows.
The way I describe Autism is this: it’s like everyone buys the same construction kit, and for most people it comes with instructions. People like me spend their whole lives looking in different rooms and places for clues about how to build the thing. School was about being made to do things I didn’t want to do, to study topics I had no interest in, and getting into trouble for acting out due to frustration.
The first time I felt that my autism might be something special was when I passed a Maths GCSE exam at the age of eight. I became the first person to be diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome in Nottinghamshire. Fast-forward a decade, and did a degree and found a job as a Project Engineer then as Manager. Later, when I was made redundant, I went self-employed, which suited me down to the ground. I’ve never been one for bosses or rules, and I’ve loved the freedom of this kind of work for the past sixteen years.
Alongside that chapter of my life, I was about to meet the person who would bring my journey with sensory play full circle… Helen and I met online and soon began dating. After spending most of my life masking in relationships, Helen was someone I could finally be completely myself with. Like me, she wants to help people, visualises things other people cannot see and consistently delivers results. We were married in 2017 and ran a business together, which we sold last year.
While looking for our next adventure, we attended the Franchise Show in Birmingham and spotted a stand that spoke to my inner child… The moment I saw the bright colours, pressed my hands into the slime and breathed in the smells, I was hooked. This was the kind of sensory play experience I had longed for as a child. Slime is something you could never grow bored of. With endless creative possibilities, you can make something different every time.
So that was that. Helen and I now own two Gootopia venues in Cheshire. Gootopia is for everyone, but it’s especially meaningful to me personally when we host neurodivergent children, adults and their families. We have worked hard to create a welcoming space where no-one needs to mask, and individualism is encouraged.
When I think back to eleven-year-old me, I remember a boy that everyone had written off as having limited potential, who would most likely live under his parents’ care for the rest of his life. This is true for some autistic people, but I hope that my story suggests an alternative, and one that feels more hopeful. My advice to parents of autistic children is to discover what your child is good at and let them do it. Chances are they’ll find a way to be successful at it.
Author: Westly Wilson
Westly Wilson
Westly Wilson is a Gootopia franchisee, offering slime-making workshops and parties that are inclusive of neurodivergent children and adults.
Website: gootopia.co.uk
Facebook: @gootopiaofficial
Instagram: @gootopiaofficial
