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.

I had my son at age 23, divorced my son's narcissistic father at 26, and successfully raised an entire good man to independent adulthood as a single mom with no family support network. If you struggle with parenting in general or single parenting specifically, allow me to support you on your journey.

Life has taken me through many chapters: raising three young men (two of whom are neurodivergent), navigating a 20-year career as a special education teacher, surviving toxic, narcissistic relationships, and rebuilding after divorce. Along the way, I learned the importance of setting boundaries, choosing self-love, and letting go of habits that no longer served me—including a complicated relationship with alcohol. The journey hasn’t been easy, but it’s made me passionate about helping others find their voice, their peace, and their power again. Today, I live a nomadic life focused on healing, authenticity, and supporting others through their toughest seasons. I'm here to meet you exactly where you are—and to remind you that your healing is possible.

My whole life I struggled with school, not being able to pay attention to lectures, homework, or sitting still in class. I always knew my brain worked differently than others and struggled to try and keep up with my peers taking AP and Honors classes. I continously asked my mom if I had ADHD or if I could get tested, but she always said no and that by keeping a routine would help me. It wasn't until college that I took the initative to get myself tested. After multiple appointments and hours of testing, I was told that "I did not have ADHD and my anxiety was so high it presented as ADHD". Yet, while I was in eating disorder treatment my therapist and psychologist both agreed to let me try ADHD medication and I have been able to ace my classes, complete daily tasks within a reasonable time, and feel like I can accomplish the things I set my mind to.

Growing up, my parents told me I was very smart but lazy. At some point in elementary school, I learned about ADHD and thought I might have it. I told my parents, and they told me I was just looking for excuses. Having ADHD caused me to act out, and other kids called me annoying. Constant criticism at an early age can cause children to become extremely self-conscious and develop social anxiety, which I definitely did. I struggled through school, both academically and socially. In college, I saw that the grad students wanted to experiment on someone who suspects they have undiagnosed ADHD. I signed up, and they told me I had a moderate to extreme case. Convincing myself I could ignore it as I had most of my life, I didn't seek real treatment or start addressing it until my 30s. I had many unresolved feelings of anger about my childhood, but I have since come to terms with it, and reading about it, as well as having therapy and medication, helped me with the symptoms to love myself.

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.

Setting boundaries isn’t easy when you’re used to people-pleasing, masking, or just trying to keep the peace. If you freeze up, feel guilty, or worry you’ll hurt someone by saying no, you’re not alone. I know how hard it is to protect your own space (and sanity) as a neurodivergent person. Let’s talk about ways to set boundaries that actually work for your real life, not just what a book says. No guilt, no scripts, just support and practical ideas.

For years, I bounced between depression, anxiety, and “why can’t I just cope like everyone else?” I’ve done the therapy circuit, in fact, I became a therapist! Sometimes it helped, sometimes it was just more gaslighting. If you’re neurodivergent and therapy hasn’t been the magical, I get it. Let’s talk honestly about how to survive, adapt, and even thrive. I can offer help on what to look for in a neurodivergent affirming therapist, what to be careful with and how to navigate finding appropriate care. You may just need someone to listen.

Parenting is hard enough...try doing it while neurodivergent, or raising a kid whose brain works differently. I know what it’s like to juggle meltdowns, missed routines, and the guilt that you’re “not doing it right.” I’ve navigated the overwhelm, the school meetings, the days when you’re masking for your kid and for yourself. Whether you’re ND, your child is, or both: let’s talk honestly about what works, what doesn’t, and how to survive (and sometimes even enjoy) this wild ride. No judgment, no perfect parent act only real talk and support. It's hard and I will not tell you it isn't, but I'll make sure you know you're not a bad parent!

If you’ve spent your life hiding your quirks to fit in, at work, in relationships, or even around family, you know how exhausting it can be. I get what it’s like to mask, to lose track of who you are, and to wonder if you’ll ever feel truly seen. Let’s talk about unmasking at your own pace, finding spaces where you can breathe, and building a life that doesn’t require you to pretend. I have been there and I love to walk the journey with fellow neurodivergents!

For years, I struggled with clothes. I never fit the mold, always feeling like I had to hide my body, my neurodivergent sensory quirks, my real self. Growing up in rural Appalachia didn't help either. The game changed when I started using fashion as a tool for self-discovery and self-compassion, not just “looking good” for someone else. If you’re curious how clothes can help you embrace your neurodivergent identity, practice more kindness with yourself, or just figure out what feels good for you (not the algorithm), let’s talk. I think style is a core part of neurodivergent identity and can be a powerful tool to feel more yourself and at home in your own skin. That can look like maximalism or wearing the same thing every day. Bring your closet wins, fails, weird questions, and hopes for self-acceptance.

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.

I found body doubling about 2 years ago when going through a depression and needed help to get things done. It was a warm, supportive space where I didn't have to do it alone. Here we show up together, set gentle goals, and move through tasks side-by-side. Perfect if you're overwhelmed, anxious, procrastinating, or just need grounding energy to get things done. So if you work better when someone is quietly holding space with you then this session gives you emotional support and gentle accountability while you complete tasks: big or small.

Living with both autism and ADHD (AuDHD) often made the world feel overwhelming: too loud, too fast, too confusing. Emotions would hit me like waves I couldn’t predict or control. When I lost my father and grandmother, the grief collided with that chaos and left me feeling completely untethered. For a while, I didn’t know how to find my way back to myself. But turning to Buddhism gave me a foundation to heal. Through mindfulness, compassion, and the practice of being present without judgment, I started to find peace in places I never thought possible. Buddhism helped me understand my emotions, my energy, and my worth outside of what the world expected from me. Now, I walk with both grief and joy, and I’m passionate about helping others who are navigating life with AuDHD and searching for emotional grounding, self-trust, and real healing.

Living with both autism and ADHD (AuDHD) often made the world feel overwhelming: too loud, too fast, too confusing. Emotions would hit me like waves I couldn’t predict or control. When I lost my father and grandmother, the grief collided with that chaos and left me feeling completely untethered. For a while, I didn’t know how to find my way back to myself. But turning to Buddhism gave me a foundation to heal. Through mindfulness, compassion, and the practice of being present without judgment, I started to find peace in places I never thought possible. Buddhism helped me understand my emotions, my energy, and my worth outside of what the world expected from me. Now, I walk with both grief and joy, and I’m passionate about helping others who are navigating life with AuDHD and searching for emotional grounding, self-trust, and real healing.