My story began in childhood, where I lost both of my sisters and had to navigate a chaotic home life, all before reaching the age of nine. After years of struggling with ADHD, depression, suicide ideation, attempts, and hospitalizations, I was eventually diagnosed with Bipolar 1. I know what it feels like to feel completely alone and unseen. My experiences as a Black Woman who lives with mental health diagnoses have given me a different perspective. I am here to support you and to create a safe space where you can finally fully unmask and know you won't be judged.

As a fellow Neurospicy Sister, I know how hard it is to stay on track and get important things done. When you ask neurotypical people for help, they often look at you like you're crazy. I know that the invisible wall of executive dysfunction or chronic fatigue is a symptom, not a failure. We'll work on your goals together, without pressure or judgment. Come as you are, and let's conquer those tasks.

For years, I believed I was “too much” and “too difficult” to befriend. I know the exhaustion of masking; rehearsing laughs, rewriting texts, and how that burden doubles when navigating stereotypes as a Black woman. When the burnout hits, the guilt convinces you that isolation is the only safe option. I’ve been there. I learned that the loving, safe friendships I longed for were waiting on the other side of setting boundaries and unapologetically being myself. No, it's not all in your head. I created this space to help you find your people, trade the performance for true connection, and build friendships that finally feel like home.

I know that bone-deep exhaustion. That feeling where you know what you need to do, like clean up, but you have zero energy, and the task feels impossibly big. Then the shame and embarrassment pile on, so you're too embarrassed to ask for help. It's a painful cycle. As a fellow "Neurospicy Sister," I live with this executive dysfunction and fatigue. I created this space to help you break that cycle, judgment-free, and find a shame-free starting point.

At the age of 25 after having my two daughters I learned about postpartum depression, and was diagnosed with Asperger’s. Since then I have navigated life as a mother, spouse, educator and advocate for disability justice and I would like to help bring equity and inclusivity to the world

Living with ADHD is like running a marathon with your shoes tied together. My brain doesn’t move in a straight line. It zigzags, leaps, crashes, and forgets why it entered the room. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been called “lazy,” “scattered,” or “inconsistent.” But the truth is, I’m doing my best in a world that wasn’t built for brains like mine. ADHD isn’t just being distracted. It’s the shame of missed deadlines, the overwhelm of executive dysfunction, the paralysis when you know what to do but can’t do it. It’s the highs of hyperfocus, the lows of burnout, and the constant inner monologue telling you you’re never doing enough. But ADHD isn’t a flaw. It’s a different operating system. And once I stopped trying to force myself into neurotypical molds, I started to find a rhythm that worked for me. It’s still messy. But it’s mine. If you’re feeling misunderstood, exhausted, or ashamed of your scattered mind, I see you.

For decades, I was misdiagnosed with behavioral health challenges, such as Bipolar and Borderline Personality Disorder. The truth is -- I was Autistic, and all my challenges stemmed from burnout and exhaustion, navigating a world not designed for my brain. Autism diagnostics have changed in the past decade, and more and more "invisible Autistics" (those that are 'high" functioning, except in all the ways they aren't; Autistic folks who are female; and those with a spectrum of challenges and gifts outside the cliche of what Autism is) are coming to understand that they may be Autistic...and not lazy, broken, weird, or "crazy." Whether you are an adult who, after researching (or the diagnosis of your child/close family member) are starting to suspect you're on the Spectrum, a self-diagnosed adult, or an adult with a recent formal diagnosis, learning you're Autistic carries grief, resentment, anger, but also joy.

I was diagnosed with Autism in my 40s, after a lifetime of misdiagnoses -- and an adulthood building a professional career. My diagnosis brought with it the chance to build skills in ways best suited for my neurodivergent brain, as well as the knowledge and capacity to ask for accommodations in my personal and work life. Disclosing your Autism, ADHD, or AuADHD has impact, both positive and negative. I've lived through both! Let's talk through the potential benefits and challenges of disclosure, the different "levels" of disclosure (to HR, to colleagues, to your boss, to your customers) to help you decide if, when, and what kind of disclosure (if any!) would best support your needs and goals.

For decades, I was misdiagnosed with behavioral health challenges, such as Bipolar and Borderline Personality Disorder. The truth is -- I was Autistic, and all my challenges stemmed from burnout and exhaustion, navigating a world not designed for my brain. Autism/ADHD diagnostics have changed in the past decade, and more and more "invisible Autistics" are coming to understand that they may be n the Spectrum. and not lazy, broken, weird, or "crazy." For me, getting a diagnosis from a psychiatrist was an important step, but it is not the only option. Self-diagnosis of neurodivergence is completely valid. Whether you are an adult who, after researching (or the diagnosis of your child/close family member) are starting to suspect you're on the Spectrum, deciding whether to seek an official diagnosis is a complex decision. Let's talk about the pros and cons of getting diagnosed verses self-diagnosis.

Talk to me about discovering you’re neurodivergent later in life. That “aha” moment can be emotional, freeing, and confusing. I’ll help you make sense of what it means for your life and identity. I was diagnosed in my 40s after a lifetime of feeling I belonged nowhere. Maybe you relate?

I’ll help you see what’s beneath the behaviors, the sensory needs, communication styles, and emotional cues that often get misread. So many parents wonder if they missed something or did something wrong. I’ll help you release that guilt and focus on what’s right now, connection and progress. How? Becasue I did these things with my own three children. I have been where you are.

I’m raising a 17-year-old daughter with Autism and three 11-year-old boys, one of which who has ADHD and mood disorder and the other two are identical twins, all while juggling bipolar disorder and ADHD. It’s not just parenting — it’s crisis management, emotional translation, and figuring out how to keep everyone’s needs in play without burning out myself. It's been a lot of trial and error but i've improved family communication a little more everyday. I certainly don't have all the answers but i have a few that work for us. maybe some of them will work for you and yours also.

There are days I’ve felt like my struggles meant I wasn’t enough as a parent or a wife or both. That guilt can be suffocating, but I’ve learned that honesty and repair matter more than perfection. I'm less of a hurricane to my family now and more of a weatherman. I can't always stop the rain but i can at least warn you when it's coming.

When home feels like a battlefield, the brain responds the same way war does, children exposed to family violence develop brain activity patterns strikingly similar to combat veterans. This hour session explores how childhood exposure to family conflict and violence shapes the brain’s threat-detection systems, often mirroring the neural patterns of combat veterans. Using insights from studies we will learn to identify when we are in heightened activity in the amygdala and anterior insula—regions linked to vigilance and anxiety—reflects the brain’s adaptation to repeated danger. While such changes may serve as protective in the short term, they increase vulnerability to long-term anxiety and emotional distress. While this adaptation might offer a short-term benefit by helping children identify danger, it also increases vulnerability to anxiety disorders and other mental health problems later in life.

Growing up, I didn’t have it easy—my mom struggled with her mental health, and I experienced instability and even homelessness at a young age. It took years of learning how to prioritize my own well-being and leaning on therapy and the right people to find my sense of peace and strength. Now, I’m a mom to two incredible neurodivergent daughters, including one with autism. Navigating their diagnoses, advocating for them, and building a safe and supportive environment has pushed me to grow in ways I never imagined. Through caregiving, trauma, and life’s curveballs, I’ve learned how to show up—with patience, resilience, and love. I know how hard it is to feel isolated and overwhelmed. That’s why I’m here: to be a calm, supportive voice when you need someone who just gets it.

As a single mother raising both an autistic child and a neurotypical one, I've lived the daily storms of meltdowns, over-stimulation, endless love, and silent triumphs. I know what it is like to feel judged, overwhelmed, and unseen and feeling completely alone. I also know the power of perserverance, understanding, and community. I turned my challenge into a fight of purpose. Helping other parents find peace and calm, confidence, and connection through the chaos. A lot of parenting with autism is feeling isolated, but I serve as a reminder that you are not a lone and we can make it through anything. Together, we can move beyond stereotypes and build a space where every child and every parent can thrive!

I spent years feeling like I was trying to translate my thoughts and emotions into a language that wasn’t mine. Conversations that seemed effortless for others—small talk, advocating for myself, expressing feelings without fear—felt exhausting. Being neurodivergent meant my brain processed interactions differently, and it wasn’t always easy for people to understand that. Over time, I learned that effective communication isn’t about forcing yourself to conform—it’s about discovering how you communicate best and finding strategies that help others meet you where you are. Whether it’s navigating relationships, workplace dynamics, or even daily interactions, having tools that honor your needs can make a huge difference. Through peer support, I’ve helped people uncover their communication strengths, manage overwhelm in social situations, and build confidence in expressing themselves authentically. You don’t have to mask or shrink yourself to be heard. Let’s explore what works for you.

I often feel like I'm operating on a different frequency—processing things in ways that made perfect sense to me but seemed confusing to the world around me. Whether it was how I approached conversations, structured my thoughts, or reacted to social dynamics, these spaces never jived with my design. At times, that led to frustration, self-doubt, and isolation. I either tried to mask my differences to blend in or leaned so far into them that I struggled to find common ground with others. It wasn’t until I started actively learning about neurodivergence that things truly shifted. My brain wasn’t ‘wrong’—it was just operating on a different set operating system. I know how important it is to uncover your strengths and advocate for your needs. If you’ve ever felt like you were constantly adjusting yourself just to be understood, this is an invitation to honor your unique mind and thrive in spaces that weren’t built for it.

I went through life as an oddball who could blend in — but never felt right. I followed the rules, did the things you’re supposed to do, and still felt chronically uncomfortable. In my 30s, I finally found out why: I’m autistic. Suddenly, so much made sense… and yet, everything was upside down. If you’re a late-diagnosed autistic woman, you know how disorienting it can be. Let’s talk about it — the highs, the grief, the clarity, the “holy shit” moments. Let’s process the weirdness of finally understanding your brain after years of being misunderstood.

I know what it’s like to want connection but feel like the usual relationship “rules” just don’t work for your brain or your life. I’ve navigated everything from open relationships to heartbreak, queerness to complicated family dynamics, and the constant push-pull between wanting to belong and wanting to be real. If you’re neurodivergent, autistic, ADHD, whatever flavor, you’re probably used to masking, managing other people’s expectations, and feeling like relationships just…aren’t built for how your brain works. You deserve relationships that fit you, not ones that fit everyone else’s mold. Let’s talk honestly about what actually works, what doesn’t, and how to build connections (romantic or not) that are safe, fulfilling, and true to who you are. No shame, no judgment..just real talk and real support. I'm safe, affirming of all types of relationships.