We Are #MightyTogether

I’ve always found a deep sense of comfort in returning to the same places over and over again. I enjoy going to the same beach, the same grocery store, the same streets where I grew up.

For a long time, I never really understood why I was so attached to familiarity—why certain places made me feel at ease while unfamiliar environments left me tense, overstimulated, and emotionally drained. Now, understanding my AuDHD, it makes a lot more sense.

My mind constantly processes everything around me—the noise, lighting, people’s energy, movement, conversations, unpredictability. Even when I seem calm on the outside, my nervous system feels like it’s working overtime in the background.

That’s why familiar places feel so emotional to me.

They remove some of the uncertainty. I already know the layout, the atmosphere, the vibe of the space. My brain doesn’t have to work as hard to prepare itself. There’s comfort in knowing what to expect.

I’ve lived and grown up in the same place my whole life. I’m familiar with every part of the Valley in Los Angeles—where to eat, the best bars and restaurants, and where the best nature trails are. I feel like the area I grew up in is a deep part of who I am. I find tremendous comfort in knowing my surroundings.

And this shows up in my everyday life too.

One thing I always do is take the same streets—the same routes I’ve always taken to move about the Valley. I avoid freeways because I have intense driving anxiety, so I stick to side streets. I’ve selected my favorite routes over time, and there’s something about them that brings up so many memories along the way.

I’m constantly surrounded by places where I spent most of my life—schools I attended, parks I played sports at, the mall I used to go to with friends during middle school. It’s all still there, and mostly unchanged.

Emotionally, those places become tied to safety.

This sense of safety is especially strong in certain places for me.

For me, the beach has always been a place that quiets my mind in a way very few things can. The cooler air, the sound of waves hitting the shore, the endless horizon—it slows down the noise in my head enough for me to actually feel present, to feel alive.

I remember going to Zuma Beach growing up. It’s one of the closest beaches to where I live. Otherwise, I’d find myself in Laguna all the time because that’s my all-time favorite place to visit. It’s about a two-hour drive from where I live, so whenever I have the energy to drive there (and I’m actually able to get on the freeway), it feels incredibly nostalgic. Zuma Beach, though, is only a twenty-minute drive—traffic, of course, makes it closer to an hour.

I remember going often with my mom and a friend and their mom—the cooler packed with sandwiches, watermelon, grapes, lemonade. Perfect for a beach picnic. Hours spent body surfing, slowly drifting away from our spot. My mom panicking because she couldn’t see me anymore. Walking to look for seashells. Lounging under an umbrella, listening to music or reading Archie comics.

Those truly were the days I’ll cherish forever. And that beach, in particular, is one I always return to. I know where to park, the best less-crowded spots, and the drive is familiar.

This need for familiarity doesn’t just show up in memories—it shows up in my present-day life too.

If I’m not at the beach daydreaming, pondering life’s little mysteries, or walking my favorite nature trail, you’ll most likely find me at home. And when I’m out running mundane errands, my mind is often at a high level of anxiety and overwhelm.

So I generally try to get things done in the morning when stores are less crowded. I love being able to go to the grocery store and browse the aisles in peace instead of feeling rushed or pressured to grab my items and leave. Trader Joe’s, in particular, has become one of my small pleasures—a quiet morning, wandering the aisles, gathering ideas and inspiration for something comforting to cook.

I think many people with AuDHD understand this feeling deeply. Familiar places aren’t just preferences for us. Sometimes they become regulation, routine, and emotional safety all at once.

When your nervous system spends so much time bracing for unpredictability, familiar spaces can feel like relief. They allow your body to rest instead of constantly preparing for overwhelm.

Whenever I’m in new surroundings or around new people, I feel emotionally dysregulated. I try to process the situation to find a sense of safety. I adapt to new sensory input, and I familiarize myself with new acquaintances to find ease and comfort. Otherwise, if I sit with the discomfort too long, I can react in ways I don’t fully understand in the moment—sometimes emotional overwhelm, sometimes shutdown, sometimes tears or breakdown.

That’s why routines and predictable environments help me function.

It’s healing to find spaces that allow your nervous system to finally unclench a little—places where you don’t feel like you have to constantly brace yourself.

And maybe that’s why we return to them again and again—not because we’re stuck, but because some places help us feel more like ourselves.

What familiar spaces help you feel more like yourself again?

“Sometimes healing looks like returning to the same places until your nervous system feels safe again.”

#ADHD #Autism #AutismSpectrumDisorder #Anxiety #SocialAnxiety #Neurodiversity #MentalHealth #MightyTogether