If you’re questioning whether you might be neurodivergent, or you’ve already been diagnosed, I see you.
For over 20 years, I lived in limbo. I knew I was different, but every label I was given—anxiety, sensory processing issues, trauma responses—felt incomplete. I never felt fully seen. And deep down, I knew something wasn’t being named.
Eventually, I received the diagnoses of Autism and ADHD, and for a moment, everything clicked. Suddenly, there were words that matched my inner world. Lists that described my experiences so precisely it felt like someone had written my biography.
There was an instant wave of relief.
I wasn’t defective. I wasn’t broken.
I was just wired differently, and now I had the language to explain it.
But as time went on, I realized those labels—while initially empowering—had their limits.
They described my traits, but not my truth.
The more I healed, awakened, and aligned with my truest path, the more I saw that these diagnostic terms were never meant to contain someone like me. They were written from the outside looking in, created by systems that don’t truly understand women who mask well, lead boldly, and feel everything.
Eventually, I realized: the diagnosis was just the door.
What I found on the other side was liberation—not because of the labels, but because I remembered who I really am.
I share this because I know what it feels like to live unseen. To long for answers. To feel the deep, quiet knowing that you’re different, and not have the words to make sense of it.
Whether you’re just starting to question or you’ve had a diagnosis for years, this work is about more than recognition. It’s about remembrance.
About letting go of the shame, the doubt, the perfectionism, the pressure to be neurotypical, and finally coming home to who you really are.