Perfectly Imperfect

Perfectly Imperfect Contact information, map and directions, contact form, opening hours, services, ratings, photos, videos and announcements from Perfectly Imperfect, Mental Health Service, Level 1, Botany Road, Mascot, 2020, Sydney.

Perfectly Imperfect is an Australia-wide NDIS registered neurodiversity affirming and gender affirming service providing counselling, advocacy, neurodiversity affirming behaviour support, inclusive education support and disabilitity advocacy

26/08/2026

Okay. I’ve been sitting on this one for a while.

About seven months, actually.

I’ve gone back to working in the Family Law space.
And honestly, a huge part of why I went back was because I started reading judgments again.

And I kept having the same thought: Holy s**t. We are still looking at so many neurodivergent families through a neurotypical lens.

And that matters. A lot.

Because if you don’t understand autism, ADHD, PDA, masking, burnout, sensory processing, executive functioning and different communication styles, you can get the meaning of what you’re seeing completely wrong.

An autistic parent who doesn’t show emotion in the way we expect can be described as cold or lacking empathy.

Someone who needs processing time can look evasive.

ADHD recall can look inconsistent.

Direct communication can look aggressive.

Shutdown can look like stonewalling.

A child who masks can look “fine”.

A PDA child absolutely losing it around changeovers can very quickly become a conversation about parental influence without anyone asking what transitioning between two homes is actually doing to that child’s nervous system.

And THAT is the bit I keep coming back to. Because once an interpretation makes its way into an assessment, it can make its way into evidence. And then into a judgment. And we are talking about decisions about children’s lives.

Where they live. Who they live with. How often they move between homes. Who they feel safe with.
Sometimes whether they see a parent at all. That is massive.

So I’ve gone back to doing Family Reports, Single Expert and specialist expert assessments, parenting capacity assessments, child and parent-child assessments, and complex assessments where neurodivergence, disability, trauma, family violence and parenting all collide.

The cases where everyone has a different explanation for what is happening.
Is this autism? Is it PDA? Trauma? Family violence?
Coercive control? Burnout? Sensory distress?
Attachment? Parenting capacity? Parental influence?
Or is it five of those things tangled together?

That differentiation matters.

And just to be really clear, because this matters too neurodivergence isn’t a get-out-of-jail-free card.

Autism doesn’t excuse coercive control. ADHD doesn’t excuse harmful behaviour. A diagnosis doesn’t automatically make someone a safe parent.

But equally, being autistic shouldn’t make someone look like an unsafe parent simply because we’re measuring them against neurotypical expectations.

I used to work as a Family Consultant writing Family Reports. Then I left that world and spent years getting much, much deeper into neurodivergence, disability, behaviour, trauma and families.

And somewhere along the way I realised: I would assess these families very differently now.
So I went back. For seven months I’ve just quietly been doing it.

Reading. Assessing. Writing. Questioning things. Going down ridiculous rabbit holes in judgments.

And now I’m finally ready to actually talk about it.

Because I think there is a gap here.

A pretty bloody big one.

And apparently I’m not very good at seeing a gap in a system and leaving it alone.

Jess xx

25/08/2026

Behaviour Support is having a bit of a moment. And, we’re not mad about it.

Because good Behaviour Support was never supposed to be about stopping behaviour, making people compliant, or producing a beautifully laminated list of strategies nobody actually uses.

It’s about understanding why something is happening. What is the person communicating? What’s overwhelming their nervous system? What sensory, environmental, relational or communication needs are being missed? What are we asking of the person that perhaps… isn’t working?

And sometimes the intervention isn’t changing the participant at all.

Sometimes it’s changing us.

The environment.
The expectations.
The communication.
The demands.
The way support is delivered.

That’s the Behaviour Support we believe in.

Neurodiversity-affirming. Trauma-informed. Relationship-first. Practical enough to actually work in real life.

And in a plot twist almost unheard of in allied health right now… we actually have capacity. 😂

I know. Suspicious.

Perfectly Imperfect currently has Behaviour Support capacity Australia-wide via Telehealth, including complex presentations, PDA profiles, family capacity building and support teams who want to understand the person not just manage their behaviour.

Because behaviour is communication.

Our job is to get curious enough to listen.

There has been another significant update to Thriving Kids, and if you are the parent of a young autistic child or a chi...
24/08/2026

There has been another significant update to Thriving Kids, and if you are the parent of a young autistic child or a child with developmental delay, this is one worth paying attention to.

Because we are no longer talking about a vague policy proposal somewhere off in the distance.

The rollout begins from 1 October 2026.

And yet, with just weeks to go, some of the biggest questions families have been asking still don't have clear answers.

The latest Thriving Kids update gives us more detail about where the system is heading and one part deserves much more scrutiny:
the increasing emphasis on supporting and “building the capacity” of parents.

Thriving Kids is being developed for children aged 8 and under with developmental delay and/or autism with low to moderate support needs, with a greater focus on community-based supports, early intervention and support around the child and family.

There are potentially good things here. Earlier support without requiring families to fight for a diagnosis or an NDIS plan could absolutely be beneficial.

But we need to be very careful about the narrative of “empowering parents”. Because there is a huge difference between supporting parents and shifting the responsibility for intervention onto them.

Parents of disabled and neurodivergent children are already advocates, case managers, school negotiators, appointment coordinators, researchers, therapists-by-default and often the person holding the entire family system together.

Many aren't lacking knowledge. They're lacking capacity because they're already drowning.

Teaching a parent sensory strategies doesn't replace an OT. Teaching communication strategies doesn't replace speech pathology. Teaching co-regulation doesn't provide respite. And another parenting program doesn't fix an inaccessible school, a two-year waitlist or a child who genuinely requires individualised therapeutic support.

Parent capacity-building can be incredibly valuable when it sits alongside adequate professional, practical and community support.

It becomes deeply problematic when it's used as the replacement for it.

That's what I'll be watching as Thriving Kids rolls out.

Because families don't need another system teaching them how to become better at carrying an impossible load. They need a system willing to carry some of that load with them. And if “parent empowerment” ultimately means parents do more because the system provides less, we haven't created better early intervention.

We've just moved the cost of it, financially, practically and emotionally, back onto families.

21/08/2026

I think we’ve confused support with making people easier to manage. And once you see it, you can’t unsee it.

A child is “doing well” because they’re quiet at school. A disabled adult is “making progress” because they’re more compliant with their routine. A family is “not engaging” because they’ve stopped attending meetings that leave them feeling blamed and unheard. A parent is “difficult” because they keep asking questions. A young person is “refusing support” because the support being offered doesn’t actually feel supportive.

We measure success by how convenient someone has become for the system.

Less disruptive.
Less demanding.
Less emotional.
Less resistant.
Less visible.

But I’m increasingly interested in a completely different set of questions.

Do they feel safe?

Do they have genuine choice?

Can they say no without losing access to support?

Are we building capacity or simply increasing tolerance for environments that hurt them?

Are we supporting regulation or rewarding masking?

Are we teaching independence or withdrawing help until they have no choice but to cope?

And perhaps the biggest one: If the person receiving the support doesn’t experience it as supportive, who exactly is it working for?

Because “successful intervention” should never mean everyone around them is more comfortable now. Sometimes progress is louder. Sometimes it looks like boundaries. Sometimes it looks like saying no. Sometimes it looks like a child who finally feels safe enough to stop holding it together. Sometimes it looks like a parent who has stopped being polite.

Sometimes it looks like a disabled person needing more support because they finally understand they were never supposed to white-knuckle their way through life without it.

Maybe we need to stop asking: “How do we get this person to function better in the system?” And start asking: “What is the system asking this person to survive?”

21/08/2026

Paediatric Occupational Therapist

Eastern Suburbs & Inner West, Sydney | Part-Time or Subcontractor

Perfectly Imperfect is looking for a Paediatric Occupational Therapist to join our growing clinical team.

And we’re looking for someone who understands that a child doesn’t need to be taught to tolerate an environment that is fundamentally not working for their nervous system.

We want an OT who is curious about the why.

Why is getting dressed so hard?
Why does school take everything they have?
Why are transitions enormous?
Why can they hold it together all day and fall apart at home?
What is their sensory system telling us?

The work:

This is predominantly hands-on paediatric clinical work, supporting neurodivergent children and young people across Sydney’s Eastern Suburbs and Inner West.

Your work may include:

* Sensory processing assessment and intervention
* Sensory integration approaches
* Emotional and nervous-system regulation
* Interoception and body awareness
* Fine and gross motor development
* Motor planning and coordination
* Executive functioning
* Play and participation
* Daily living skills
* School participation and environmental supports
* Parent/carer coaching and capacity building
* Supporting autistic, ADHD and PDA-profile children
* Working collaboratively with families, schools and multidisciplinary teams

Our approach is neurodiversity-affirming, trauma-informed, strengths-based and relationship-first.

We don’t measure success by how well a child can mask, comply, sit still or appear neurotypical.

We look at regulation, safety, autonomy, connection, participation and quality of life.

We’re looking for someone who:

* Is AHPRA registered as an Occupational Therapist
* Has experience working with children and young people
* Has a strong interest or experience in sensory processing and sensory integration
* Understands neurodivergence beyond a deficit model
* Is comfortable working with autistic and ADHD children, including children with complex support needs
* Values child-led, play-based and relationship-focused intervention
* Can work collaboratively with parents, schools and other clinicians
* Has a current Working With Children Check and NDIS Worker Screening Check
* Can travel across the Eastern Suburbs and Inner West

Experience or additional training in Sensory Integration, interoception, PDA, feeding, regulation or other paediatric OT frameworks would be very welcome.

Part-time OR subcontractor

We’re flexible.

We’re open to a part-time employee or subcontractor arrangement, depending on the person.

We want someone who wants to do excellent clinical work without being buried under ridiculous caseload expectations or having every clinical decision dictated by a KPI.

You’ll have autonomy, flexibility and the support of a multidisciplinary team that actually likes collaborating.

About us

Perfectly Imperfect is a neurodivergent-led, NDIS registered allied health and disability practice.

We’re big on:

Connection over compliance.
Curiosity over judgement.
Regulation before expectation.
Strengths without pretending challenges don’t exist.
And supporting kids to be more authentically themselves, not more convenient for the adults around them.

If you’ve ever thought, “There has to be a better way to do paediatric OT,” you might fit in very well here.

Send your CV and a little bit about yourself to:
[email protected]

Perfectly Imperfect | Sydney, NSW

18/08/2026

The Government has softened parts of the new NDIS Bill. But do not confuse “better than it was” with “this is now a good Bill.”

Some genuinely awful provisions have been wound back after sustained advocacy.

The expectation of what parents should simply provide to disabled children has been pulled closer to the current approach.

The NDIA will have to provide notice and an opportunity to respond before raising certain debts.

Missing paperwork alone won’t necessarily create a debt where entitlement to the payment can be established another way.

The requirement that a change in circumstances must be “unanticipated” before requesting an unscheduled plan reassessment has been removed.

There are additional protections for participants requiring disability-specific support across 24 hours.

Existing participants get some protection from being pushed out of the NDIS simply because another service system theoretically should support them.

And the proposed definition of functional capacity has been amended after drafting that could have produced frankly absurd assessment outcomes.

These are wins.

But the architecture underneath the reforms has not substantially changed. And that is the part we need to keep talking about.

The Government still intends to use support determinations to reduce expenditure in particular categories. It’s’ currently stated intention? A 50% reduction to Social, Economic and Community Participation. A 10% reduction to Capacity Building Daily Activities.

Think about what that actually means in people’s lives. Support workers. Community access. Building independence. Allied health. Learning daily living skills. Preventing isolation. Supporting people before families reach crisis.

For people with significant support needs, the language in reports is also going to matter enormously. It will no longer be enough to say someone “benefits from” support.

We are going to need to clearly demonstrate:

Why is this disability-specific?
Why is it necessary?
What functional need is being addressed?
Why can’t another mainstream system reasonably provide it?
What happens when the support isn’t there?
For people requiring 24-hour support, how do those needs interact across the entire day?

That has implications for Behaviour Support, OT, FCAs, Core Supports and SIL.

And then there is the bigger reform.

The NDIS is still moving towards a much more standardised functional-capacity and support-needs assessment model, with transition to new-framework planning expected to begin progressively in 2027.

So yes. Advocacy worked. Some genuinely dangerous drafting has been changed. We should acknowledge that. But this isn’t the moment to declare the NDIS saved.

Because they may have sanded down some of the sharpest edges. The machinery underneath is still designed to make the Scheme smaller.

17/08/2026

I have an idea… and I want to know if anyone would actually come.

A Kvetching Circle.

Yes. Kvetching. As in the Yiddish word for complaining, grumbling, venting, having a good old whinge about the absolute bulls**t of life.

But hear me out.

So much of the spaces we create for parents, carers, neurodivergent people and people navigating disability systems are focused on solutions.

What strategy can we try?
How can we reframe it?
What’s the next step?
Have you tried this?
What can we learn from it?

And sometimes? I do not want a fu***ng strategy. I want to say that the NDIS is doing my head in. I want to say that fighting a school for something that should be basic inclusion is exhausting. I want to say that parenting is hard sometimes.

That advocacy is relentless. That being the person who constantly has to understand the legislation, write the email, attend the meeting, chase the provider, explain the disability, educate everyone else and somehow remain calm and reasonable while doing it… is A LOT.

And I don’t necessarily want someone to fix it. I just want someone to say: “Yep. That’s s**t.”

That’s essentially the idea behind a kvetching circle.

A space where we deliberately make room for the complaining, the frustration, the anger, the ridiculousness and the things we usually censor because we’re supposed to be coping.

No toxic positivity. No unsolicited advice. No “have you tried…?” No pressure to turn every difficult experience into a learning opportunity.
And importantly not a space where we spiral together for an hour either.

There’s actually something incredibly regulating about being witnessed by people who get it. About saying the thing out loud, having it acknowledged, maybe laughing at the absurdity of it, and not having to defend or explain why it’s hard.

Sometimes the point isn’t problem-solving. Sometimes the point is:

This is hard.
You’re allowed to think it’s hard.
And for the next hour, you don’t have to make it inspirational.

I’m genuinely considering running these through Perfectly Imperfect: informal, facilitated, probably online, with some very clear boundaries around confidentiality, safety and not turning it into an advice-fest or trauma-dumping fest either!

Come. Kvetch. Be witnessed. Maybe laugh. Then go back into the world slightly less full of all the s**t you’ve been carrying.

So…

Would anyone actually be interested in a Kvetching Circle?

Because I have a feeling we might need this.

Jess xx

15/08/2026

The NDIS Reform Bill just moved another step closer to becoming law.

And no, it hasn’t passed the Senate yet. But the Senate Committee’s majority report has recommended that it should pass. And that should concern every disabled person, family, carer and provider paying attention.

Because we are being asked to accept enormous changes to the NDIS while some of the most important details are still not clear.

We still haven’t seen the final assessment tools that could determine who gets into the NDIS and who stays.

We don’t know exactly how those assessments will be applied. We don’t know how assessors will be trained to understand fluctuating disability, neurodivergence, masking, burnout, episodic capacity or the enormous difference between “can technically do something” and “can sustainably do something without significant support or consequences afterwards.”

And that distinction matters.

A person managing to shower today does not mean they can reliably shower every day. An autistic person holding it together for a one-hour assessment does not tell you what happens when they get home. Someone being able to cook a meal once does not mean they can consistently plan, shop, prepare, cook, eat and clean up without support.

A child coping beautifully in one environment does not mean they aren’t completely falling apart somewhere else.

Capacity is not a snapshot.

And disability should never have to become catastrophic before somebody is considered disabled enough to deserve support.

That is one of our biggest concerns with increasing reliance on functional capacity assessments.

Because if the tool doesn’t understand masking, fluctuating capacity, sensory load, executive functioning, co-regulation, burnout, recovery time and the invisible support happening behind the scenes, it doesn’t measure someone’s actual functional capacity.

It measures how they performed on assessment day. And those are not the same thing.

Then there is social and community participation. If this Bill passes, changes are expected from October that could reduce funding in this area. But cutting funded support doesn’t magically remove the support need. Someone still has to do it. And overwhelmingly, that responsibility falls back onto families.

Parents.

Partners.

Siblings.

Informal carers who are already exhausted, already navigating impossible systems, and very often disabled or neurodivergent themselves.

We keep talking about NDIS sustainability as though the only number that matters is the Scheme’s bottom line. But there is another cost. The cost of burnout.
The cost of carers leaving employment. The cost of family breakdown. The cost of crisis presentations.
The cost of people losing independence. The cost of waiting until someone is completely falling apart before deciding they need help.

Early, appropriate support isn’t waste. Sometimes it is precisely what prevents a person from needing significantly more intensive and significantly more expensive support later.

Disabled people have been saying this. Families have been saying this. Advocates have been saying this.
Providers have been saying this.

The Committee heard the concerns. And yet the majority recommendation is still that the Bill should pass.

We need to keep talking about what these reforms look like in actual people’s lives, not just what they look like in legislation, forecasts and spreadsheets.

Because the NDIS was never supposed to be about proving how badly you can fail. It was supposed to provide the support disabled Australians need to live an ordinary life. And we should be very, very careful about losing sight of that.

14/08/2026

SIL SHOULD NOT FEEL LIKE AN INSTITUTION WITH NICER FURNITURE.

There. I said it.

And maybe this one hits differently for me because I’m not only looking at SIL as a clinician or provider.

I’m looking at it as a mum. Because one day, my son may need supported living. And when I think about that, I don’t dream about a beautifully written service agreement, immaculate progress notes or a perfectly completed roster.

I think about his home.

I want him to walk through the front door and know that the space belongs to him.I want him to be able to eat at weird times, and for his foods to be his safe foods because of his severe ARFID. I want him to stay up too late sometimes. Have his favourite things everywhere. Say no. Change his mind. Have people over. Shut his bedroom door.

Be grumpy without someone writing an incident report about it. Have a s**t day without it becoming a “behaviour of concern.”

I want the people supporting him to know the difference between distress and defiance. To understand his communication even when it doesn’t look neurotypical. To know when he needs support and when he needs space. To co-regulate rather than control.

To understand that dignity of risk means he is allowed to make choices that I might not make for him.

Because he will be an adult. And it will be his life.

That is what I think we sometimes lose when we talk about SIL. We talk about ratios and rosters and funding and vacancies and compatibility and staffing.

All important.

But somewhere underneath all of that is a person who deserves to come home.Not to a service.
Not to a program. Not to a workplace where they happen to sleep. Home.

And perhaps being the mother of a child who may need this one day makes me ridiculously idealistic about what supported living should look like.

Good.

I plan on staying that way. Because if it isn’t good enough for my son, I don’t think it’s good enough for yours either.

Jess xx

12/08/2026

The NDIS doesn’t have a “parent will just do it” line item. I wish they did!!!

And yet somehow, it keeps appearing in plans. Not literally, of course.

It looks more like:

“Informal supports can continue to assist.”

“Family can support implementation.”

“Parents can facilitate community access.”

“Strategies can be embedded into the home environment.”

Which sounds perfectly reasonable until you look at what that actually means. It means Mum, dad, grandma or aunt is the support worker. Dad, mum, grandpa is the behaviour support practitioner. A sibling is providing social connection. The family is implementing the OT strategies.

Someone is coordinating appointments, providers, school, NDIS, reports, reviews and invoices. Someone is managing meals, hygiene, sleep, medication, regulation, transport, safety and community access.

And apparently none of those hours count because they’re being provided by someone who loves the person.

Love is not an NDIS support category.

Families will obviously support their family member. That is not the same thing as expecting them to function as an unpaid disability workforce. And there is a point where “informal support” stops being ordinary family life and becomes unfunded disability support.

We need to get much better at naming that distinction. Because when a plan assumes a parent will absorb the gap, the support hasn’t disappeared.
The cost has simply been transferred to the family.

Address

Level 1, Botany Road, Mascot, 2020
Sydney, NSW
1141

Opening Hours

Monday 9am - 8pm
Wednesday 8:30am - 5:30pm
Thursday 9am - 8pm

Telephone

0407 022 216

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