Here's something that might sound small to some, but felt absolutely massive to us: last night, our family went out for dinner. Together. In a real restaurant.

Our daughter is six. She's autistic, full of energy, deeply herself — and delightfully unpredictable when it comes to food, new places, sitting still, or pretty much anything with pressure attached. Eating out just hasn't been something we've done. Not because of her, but because the world isn't always built with families like ours in mind.

We've tried. We've packed snacks and screens and ear defenders like we were going on manoeuvres. We've braved the side-eye. We've left full plates and unfinished sentences behind, guilt in our stomachs and relief on other people's faces. So we gave up.

Until last night.

The Loft in Street hosted its first ever SEN Supper Club — and honestly? It was a game-changer.

From the second we walked in, it felt different. No public. No pressure. Just SEND families breathing the rare air of not having to explain. There was soft play. A quiet zone. Fidget toys, tablets, headphones. Kids stimming, skipping, running — and not a single mutter of disapproval.

And the support started before we even arrived. Ahead of time, we were sent photos of the venue, the space, and the food — so we could talk our daughter through what to expect. We were able to pre-order our meals, which meant no waiting around or frantic menu negotiations. It might seem like a small thing, but for her — and for us — it made all the difference.

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She had a little wobble walking in (as we expected), but she settled beautifully. She danced around her plain burger and chips, skipped across the room, and played on her tablet. The staff handed us a takeaway box without blinking — because dinner in two parts? Totally normal here. They just got it.

And we got to eat too. Her dad tackled a mixed grill the size of his torso. I had schnitzel — hot, golden, crispy, and not eaten standing up. SEN parents will know how rare that is. We sat. We chatted. We finished our food. Together. Without rushing, apologising, or bracing for judgement.

It was peaceful but full of life. Calm but joyful. There were no tuts when the tablet came out. No anxious hovering. No Facebook rants being drafted from the next table about 'lazy parenting' or kids who 'don't know how to behave.'

Just families like ours, doing what so many others get to do without a second thought.

And that's what really hit us.

For most families, dinner out is just… dinner. For us, it's usually a logistical tightrope — full of nerves, backup plans and questions like "Will she cope?" or "Will we?" But last night? Our daughter skipped, spun, flapped and stimmed. And no one batted an eyelid.

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It wasn't just a meal. It was permission. To exist. To relax. To stop being on high alert, without feeling like we'd have to leap in to defend our child at any moment.

So thank you, The Loft. For the food, yes — but more than that, for the thoughtfulness. For understanding that inclusion is preparation, flexibility, kindness — and chips in a box when dinner happens in phases.

We left full, happy and relaxed — a combination so rare, it felt like magic.

Please do it again. And again. We'll be back — headphones, tablet, and all.

• The Loft sponsors Glsatonbury and Street Nub News.