Volunteering: why I do it, and why it matters

For me, volunteering is less about giving away my time and more about creating balance, purpose, and connection. Living with AuDHD (autism and ADHD together) means my brain often runs at full speed in multiple directions. That energy can be brilliant and creative, but it can also be overwhelming. Volunteering gives me an anchor. It’s a way of putting that energy into something outside myself, where it can make a difference.

I’ve always held onto a phrase: “Love your home, love your neighbour, love your street, love your neighbourhood, love your town.” And it has to be in that order. Belief doesn’t work the other way round. You can’t start by saying you love your town if you don’t also care for your home, your family, the person next door, and the place you walk every day. It has to begin at the centre and ripple outward.

That’s why volunteering makes sense to me. It’s not abstract. It’s not about vague promises of a better future. It’s about showing up where I live, using what I can do to support others, and taking part in the things that make our community vibrant and human.

Local causes, real connections

In the past year, I’ve given time to a few projects that feel close to my heart. I’m a volunteer with Brighten the Corners, an independent music festival in Ipswich that brings incredible energy to Ipswich. It’s more than just live music — it’s about giving people access to new sounds, new ideas, and a sense of cultural identity in our town. Being part of that reminds me how creativity can change the way people feel about where they live.

Next weekend I’ll be helping at the Ipswich Book Festival. I understand how powerful and important books are — they’ve shaped the way people think, connect, and imagine for centuries. But if I’m honest, my brain rarely gives me the space to sit and focus long enough to read. When I do manage it, it’s a sign I’m in a good headspace. So while I might not get through shelves of novels myself, I still love being around the energy of books and the people who care about them.

Alongside that, I’m also part of the Human Library, where instead of reading books, people “read” people. I volunteer as a book on Neurodivergence, which means people can sit with me, ask questions, and learn about my lived experience with Autism and ADHD. It’s not always easy being that open — but it’s important. Offering myself in that way helps break down stigma, replace assumptions with real conversation, and hopefully give people a deeper understanding of how different brains work. For me, it’s another form of volunteering: giving my time and my story so that others can learn.

I’ve also put a huge amount of myself into Ipswich.love, a platform I founded that shares events, businesses, and stories from our town. It started as an idea but only exists because of hours of voluntary work amongst a brilliant group of people who love our town. It’s not just a website; it’s a belief in the town, shared in the most practical way I know how.

And then there’s my role as a volunteer board advisor for R;pple, a Suicide prevention charity. That’s something deeply important — helping a cause that is literally saving lives by intervening when people are at their most vulnerable. It’s a reminder that volunteering isn’t always about festivals or community projects; sometimes it’s about standing alongside people in the most challenging moments of their lives.

How volunteering supports me

There’s no denying that volunteering can be demanding. It eats into evenings and weekends, and it doesn’t come with a neat pay cheque at the end of the month. But what it does give me is harder to measure, and maybe even more valuable.

• It creates structure. As someone with AuDHD, I work best when there’s accountability and a reason to show up. Volunteering gives me that.
• It grounds me. Autism can sometimes make the world feel overwhelming. Volunteering connects me with people, but in a way that has purpose and focus. It helps reduce that sense of isolation.
• It channels my energy. AuDHD brains can feel like having a dozen tabs open at once. Giving time to a cause gives those tabs somewhere to land. Instead of spinning, they start to connect.
• It feeds back belief. Each time I show up, I see proof that the phrase I live by — love your home, neighbour, street, neighbourhood, town — isn’t just words. It’s action. And that action helps me believe, even on days when my brain wants to pull me in every direction but forward.

Volunteering and brands

I’ve also learned that volunteering isn’t just personal — it reflects back into the world of work and brands too. When a business genuinely shows up for its community, it builds trust in a way no campaign or strategy ever could.

But it has to be real. It can’t just be about ticking a corporate social responsibility box or squeezing another line into a social media strategy. People can see through that. The volunteering that matters most is the kind done quietly, without the camera always ready to capture it, because it’s rooted in care and belief.

When brands commit in that way — whether that’s supporting a festival, mentoring young people, or giving staff the space to volunteer — it shows character. And that character becomes part of the brand itself, not as a slogan but as lived experience.

There is no “they”

One of the most essential lessons volunteering has taught me is this: there is no “they.”

It’s easy to say “they should do something about this” or “they should sort that problem out.” But who is “they”? Too often, it’s just a placeholder for people who don’t exist.

The truth is, if you want to see change in your community, your culture, or your town, you have to get up and do it yourself — with others who believe in the same thing. There is no “they.” There’s only us.

That doesn’t mean we can fix everything. It doesn’t mean the effort is always enough. But it does mean we can show up, together, and make a difference in the places that matter most to us.

Setting an example

Volunteering also matters to me because of the example it sets. I want my kids to see that change doesn’t happen by magic. I want them to see that you can be part of something without waiting for permission or pay. I want them to understand that when you believe in your home, your neighbour, your street, your neighbourhood, and your town — in that order — you can actually feel the impact of your belief.

It’s not perfect. Some days I overcommit. Some days, my AuDHD brain screams at me for saying yes to too much. But most days, I come away from volunteering feeling lighter, calmer, and more connected.

And that’s why I keep doing it.

Because love isn’t abstract, change isn’t someone else’s job, and belief only becomes real when you step up and live it.