Bradley is autistic and as a young child communicated in other ways; through movement, communication cards and a language understood by those closest to him. It is an unusual path for someone who now makes his living speaking and performing, something the 24-year-old Surrey native is aware of himself.

“Now my job is to speak, which is so bizarre to think that at the beginning of my life that is not the way I would communicate,” he says.

“I would communicate in my own way. If that was movements or communication cards, or different things like that, we had our own way of communicating, me and my family.”

If you have seen his warm and moving portrayal of James McEwan in the Netflix series Heartstopper, you could understand how acting eventually became the place where Bradley found another way to express himself.

The hugely successful series, first released in 2022, was praised for its sensitive and joyful portrayal of LGBTQ+ young people and relationships. For Bradley, it was also his first professional acting job.

“That role meant everything to me,” he says. “What Heartstopper does so beautifully is it speaks to people who are often misunderstood, or people who haven’t had much representation on screen and in the media.”

He describes the show as having a “really joyous, community feel” and says he has “the best memories” of his time on it.

“I’m gutted it’s over, but all good things come to an end.”

Since then, his career has soared. Bradley joined the cast of ITV soap Emmerdale as Lewis Barton, an autistic and gay character, while his memoir, Autistically Me, became a Sunday Times bestseller. Bradley was also in Ireland this month as a keynote speaker at AsIAm’s National Autism Conference in Malahide, Co Dublin. The annual event brought together autistic people, families, educators, healthcare professionals and policymakers, with this year’s theme, Autistic Affirming Society: Rights, Services and Identity.

Bradley felt a strong personal connection to the conference’s theme. As a child, school was a place where he often felt restricted and pushed towards what he described as the “societal norm”. Drama offered something very different.

His grandmother, believing her grandson was simply shy, enrolled him in an arts club.

“My nan was like, ‘He’s a shy boy’,” he recalls. “She was like, ‘All the confident kids do that. Let’s put him in there’.”

In her own way, his nan had found the perfect environment for Bradley to feel comfortable and express himself.

I would communicate in my own way. If that was movements or communication cards, or different things like that, we had our own way of communicating, me and my family

“I always say that drama has no boundary of how to communicate,” he explains. “You can walk around and pretend to be the wind. You’re conveying the feelings of the wind, as stupid as it sounds.”

At school, he had often felt restricted and uncomfortable. At the arts club, he says: “I just felt so free.”

It taught him something he still believes is so important.

“It just shows that environments mean everything for autistic people to flourish.”

Autism awareness

Creating those environments was the corner stone of this year’s AsIAm conference.

Fiona Ferris, deputy CEO and head of training at AsIAm, says an autistic-affirming society is one in which autistic people have “the same chance to live, learn, work and play as everybody else”.

While awareness of autism has increased significantly, she believes awareness alone is no longer enough.

“You can be aware of something but not actually know what to do, or what you need to change to make a real impact on the ground,” she says.

The barriers can exist in the most ordinary aspects of life, from accessing a school place to getting a job or even making an appointment with a GP.

“There’s a lot of goodwill on behalf of the Government, on behalf of schools, on behalf of workplaces,” Fiona says.“But unfortunately, the action that’s needed underneath the policy, the investment that’s needed on behalf of the Government to actually realise these things for the autistic community, hasn’t necessarily caught up.”

Bradley has encountered another side of the split between awareness and understanding.

As his public profile has grown through acting, his book and social media, so too has the number of autistic people who follow him. Initially, he admits, he felt some pressure to constantly use that platform to say something important.

“I definitely felt like there was a bit of pressure,” he says.

Now he takes a more relaxed approach. Sometimes that means talking openly about his experiences and sometimes it means, as he puts it, “being an idiot on TikTok just dancing”.

“Just being me and just being present, I feel like that helps a lot of people.”

He is also careful not to suggest that his experience represents everybody’s. One of the assumptions about autism he would most like to see disappear is the idea that all autistic people are the same.

“I feel like that’s definitely the biggest one that some people still can’t get over,” he says.

He points to the familiar stereotype that autistic people must be particularly good at maths.

“I’ve got autistic friends who are amazing at maths. I’m awful at maths.”

He’s also not keen on the autism spectrum being thought of as meaning someone is “more” or “less” autistic.

“There’s a whole carousel of different experiences and different sensitivities.”

One person may dislike festivals because they struggle with crowds, while loving loud music in their own bedroom; someone else may dislike both. These individual differences, Bradley says, combine to make each autistic person “uniquely individual”.

At 24, he has also learned a lot about what he needs himself.

“I love routine, I love schedule,” he says.

Uniquely individual

When he finds himself struggling mentally, he often realises that he has moved away from the routines that help him. His increasingly public career has also taught him about boundaries. He has learned to say no to events when he doesn’t feel comfortable attending and, when he does go, to ask questions that can make the experience less overwhelming.

What will the room look like? Who will be there when he arrives? Can he bring a close friend or his partner?

Simply knowing about autism to changing environments is something Fiona also wants to see happen much more widely.

“What does my workplace or my school need to do on the ground that’s going to create real change for those experiencing barriers?” she asks.

Vitally, she believes autistic people themselves should be involved in designing the policies and services that affect their lives.

Consultation alone, she argues, is not enough if the resulting recommendations are never acted upon.

“It can’t be done without the voices of autistic people within it,” she says.

“It’s not just ‘nothing about us without us’, It’s nothing without us. Because we exist in society.”

What does my workplace or my school need to do on the ground that’s going to create real change for those experiencing barriers?

Bradley’s growing presence on television, social media and on bookshelves provides a very visible example of that representation.

However his advice to parents who may worry about their autistic child’s future is simple. He tells them not to make comparisons. He remembers his own parents watching other children, including his older sister, reaching milestones that he was not reaching at the same time.

“Just focus on the person you have in front of you and allow them to flourish in their own way,” he says.

“And if there’s love at the centre of it, then definitely you’re doing the right thing.”