My Story (The Abridged Version)

I could’ve kept it to the “dinner party” version of who I am and what my life currently looks like (see above), but that’s not my style. It feels important to share more about myself and how I came to this work. I’m an AuDHDer (an autistic ADHDer) who’s faced—and continues to work through—the pain, frustration, exhaustion, and confusion that comes with navigating a world built for the neuronormative. I was diagnosed with ADHD at six years old and placed in special education classes for a chunk of elementary school, where I internalized harmful messages that I was deficient and not smart/good enough. I was bullied for being spacey, eccentric, and sensitive. Adults and peers reprimanded me for being “naive,” “lacking common sense,” and over-focusing on details rather than the bigger picture (all common critiques of neurodivergent people). To avoid judgment and criticism from others, I learned I had to become quick, sharp, astute, and articulate, and that I had to focus on the things others seemed to find valuable instead of my own interests. At school, I evolved into a well-behaved and highly masked kid, while at home I experienced frequent meltdowns and demand avoidance. Adults in my life contextualized my struggles as “behavioral issues” stemming from a bad temper and poor impulse control, rather than neurodivergence that hadn’t been adequately understood or accommodated (plus the trauma that resulted from that experience). It was hard to make sense of who I was and why I struggled so much at home, while seeming to fly under the radar in other environments.

Soon after high school started, I lost the energy and will to try—I started skipping school regularly and partying a lot. During my junior year, just as I was on the verge of failing out, I went through a traumatic event that fueled me to make a profound shift. Suddenly motivated to attend school and put effort into assignments, I found myself getting As for the first time in years. I made a dramatic academic turnaround and, much to everyone’s surprise, got into college, where I began a new trajectory as a high-masking, high-achieving, perfectionistic adult who ultimately equated their worth with how much they could achieve in their artistic, academic, and professional careers. I didn’t see it that way at the time, and my 20s were filled with many beautiful and valuable experiences, but as the years went on, I began to sense that this way of living wouldn’t be sustainable for me. Between my 9 to 5 job and the books I was writing when I got home, I worked constantly and rarely gave my body, brain, and spirit the rest they needed. I constantly felt like I was failing at both endeavors (work and writing), especially as I tried to balance them with taking care of myself, showing up well as a partner and family member, and maintaining a social life. Continuing to mask in the way I had for years grew more and more unbearable.

At 29, I finally burned out. I quit my job in writing and marketing and went back to school to become a therapist, which I’d secretly been wanting to do for years. When I started social work school, I also began a new journey in my own therapy—healing my internal relationships with parts of me that were chronically self-critical, perfectionistic, and wouldn’t allow me to rest. I discovered my identity as a highly sensitive autistic person, which helped contextualize elements of my personality and sensory profile that ADHD alone didn’t seem to explain. My 30s have been the most healing, affirming, and expansive years of my life so far. The sense of safety, freedom, and possibility that’s come with letting the mask drop, learning to embrace my neurodivergent identity, and designing a life that honors my deepest needs and desires has been the greatest gift I’ve given myself.

This brings me to what I aim to offer through Dreaming Pines: neurodiversity-affirming therapy with a neurodivergent therapist who’s deeply passionate about helping neurodivergent adults make peace with themselves and feel grounded, empowered, and expansive in their identities.