neurodiversity

I’ve come to realize that my brain has a very strong opinion about the temperature.

And I mean a very strong opinion.

I’ve always been sensitive to heat and light, but I don’t think I fully realized just how much they affect me until my recent trip.

I was hot and sweaty for what felt like the entire trip. I just could not seem to cool off no matter how hard I tried. I even had one of those little handheld electronic fans with me, which did help a little, but not nearly as much as I would have liked. At some point I was basically carrying around a tiny fan and hoping it would save me.

In Romania, the weather was hot and muggy, and I swear the sun hits differently out there. It was intense.

Honestly, I now understand why Dracula hid from the sun and only came out at night.

At my friend’s wedding, I started the day with my hair straight with a few curls in it. By the end of the day, my hair was basically soaked from sweating. Not exactly the look I was going for.

And it wasn’t just uncomfortable. The heat really took a lot out of me.

I started noticing how much the weather and light were affecting me physically and emotionally. I’ve always known that bright sunlight is a sensitivity for me, but being in that kind of heat for days at a time made it much harder to ignore.

Then we got to Italy.

One day, my friend and I decided to go see the Leaning Tower of Pisa. We had rented a car during our stay, but we ended up parking pretty far away from the tower. So, we had quite a walk to and from the car.

And it was sweltering.

I mean, really sweltering.

I remember trying to jump from one shady spot to the next, basically chasing any little patch of shade I could find.

By the time we were done, we were both miserable.

We had spent the day doing a lot of sightseeing, and between the walking, the heat, the sun, and everything else going on, it became overwhelmingly exhausting. It affected both of our moods. I remember thinking that I could really use some alone time somewhere cool and quiet.

And that was probably one of the bigger things I took away from the trip.

I realized just how affected I can be by weather and light, and I started thinking about how much this connects to my neurodivergence.

I know my brain already takes in a lot. I notice sounds, people, changes in my surroundings, how my body feels, and a million little things that I don’t always consciously realize I’m processing. When I’m comfortable, I can handle a lot more of it. But when I’m hot, sweaty, tired, and in bright sunlight, it feels like I’ve already used up a good portion of my bandwidth.

Then everything else starts getting to me.

The crowds feel more exhausting. The noise bothers me more. Walking around feels harder. My patience gets shorter, and I can feel myself getting irritable or overwhelmed without always understanding why in the moment.

I think that’s what I’ve been learning about myself.

It’s not that I suddenly can’t handle being outside or that I don’t enjoy traveling. It’s that when my body is uncomfortable, I have less room left for everything else my brain is processing.

And I don’t always recognize that right away.

Sometimes I just know that I’m getting annoyed, tired, or overwhelmed, and it takes me a minute to realize that I’ve been hot for hours and haven’t had a chance to properly decompress.

I’ve had so many moments in my life where I’ve looked at other people and wondered why something seemed so much harder for me. I’d see someone else walking around in the heat like it was nothing while I was desperately looking for shade and thinking about how much I wanted to be somewhere cool.

For a long time, I think I automatically assumed I was just being too sensitive.

Now I’m starting to look at it differently.

I know myself better than I used to, and I know that certain sensory experiences affect me more than others. Heat and bright light are two of those things. When they’re combined with everything else that comes with traveling, I can reach my limit a lot faster.

That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be there.

I can be having an amazing day and still need to get away somewhere quiet. I can be excited about what I’m seeing and still be completely exhausted afterward. I can love a place and still want nothing more than to get back to my room, turn on the air conditioning, put on comfortable clothes, and not have to process one more thing.

Those things can exist at the same time.

I think that’s what I’m learning to recognize about myself. I don’t have to compare my experience to someone else’s and decide that I should be handling things differently just because they seem fine.

If I’m hot, I’m hot. If the sunlight is bothering me, I need to get out of the sun. If I’ve had enough stimulation and need some alone time, I probably need some alone time.

That’s not me being difficult. It’s me paying attention to myself.

And apparently, my brain has decided that 90-degree weather and direct sunlight are personal enemies.

Which honestly explains a lot.

I love traveling. I love being outside. I love exploring new places and seeing things I’ve never seen before.

But I also need shade, air conditioning, water, comfortable clothes, and probably my little electronic fan.

And apparently, occasional alone time in a dark room.

I’m learning that those things help me regulate when I’ve taken in more than I realize. I don’t need to wait until I’m completely overwhelmed to give myself what I need.

So yes, my brain has a very strong opinion about the temperature.

And apparently, that opinion is find the shade.

What’s something that affects you more than you realized?

“The body keeps the score.”—Bessel van der Kolk

#SensoryProcessingDisorder #ADHD #MentalHealth #Neurodiversity #MightyTogether

I obviously just accidentally deleted this post as I was typing it.

I hate when your plans get turned around on a dime. My aunt forced me to come to her bridal shower last-minute, and now I have to deal with that, my friends' birthdays being back-to-back weekends, researching certifications to get until I feel confident enough to go back to school for my Bachelor's, everyday chores, volunteering for midterms, volunteering for church, and downtime. When I have so many responsibilities to deal with (especially unpredictable), my brain just turns into a cacophony of traffic jams, barking dogs, and overlapping conversation. How do people deal with actually being a responsible adult and having plans change all the time? #ADHD #AutismSpectrumDisorder #Neurodiversity #routine #Adulthood

How do you deal with uncertainty?

Honestly, I don’t deal with uncertainty very well. It’s always been difficult for me because I like to know what is going to happen, where I’m going, what I’m supposed to do, and what to expect. When I don’t have those answers, my mind starts filling in the blanks.

And more often than not, it doesn’t fill them in with anything particularly helpful.

I think part of what makes uncertainty so uncomfortable is that there is nothing I can really do to control it. I can plan, prepare, and think through every possible scenario, but eventually, there are things that are simply out of my hands.

I’m the kind of person who likes to know all the details ahead of time, so I feel prepared for every possible outcome. But life throws you curveballs sometimes, and no matter how much you prepare for something, a whole new direction can change the trajectory.

There could be a change of plans. A delayed flight. A conversation that doesn’t go the way you thought it would. A decision I don’t know how to make. A future I can’t quite picture yet.

So, over time, I’ve started finding little ways to make uncertainty easier to deal with.

One of the biggest things is giving myself something I can control.

If I’m traveling, I might make a packing list. I’ll look at the schedule a few dozen times, figure out where I need to be, and make sure I have the things that make me feel comfortable. I may not be able to control everything that happens during the trip, but I can make sure I have my headphones, my snacks, comfortable clothes, and a few familiar things with me.

I always try to remind myself that I don’t need to know everything right now. And even though that is hard for me, it’s a lot easier than panicking about things that don’t go as planned.

The thing is, I feel a sense of safety and calm when I know the answers ahead of time. I like knowing how something is going to turn out. I like to know whether I’m making the right decision before I make it.

But sometimes there isn’t an answer yet.

Sometimes you just have to take the next step and see what happens.

I always have to remind myself that uncertainty doesn’t automatically mean what comes next will be terrible. In fact, it could actually be something wonderful.

That doesn’t always make the uncertainty disappear, but it does give me another possibility to consider.

And sometimes, I try to stay in the present instead of jumping too far ahead.

I don’t think I’ll ever master uncertainty.

I still overthink, worry, and want to know what happens next. But I’m learning that the goal isn’t to eliminate uncertainty. It’s learning that I can handle not knowing.

I can create a plan without expecting everything to go according to it.

I can prepare without trying to control every outcome.

And I can remind myself that I have gotten through uncertain moments before.

The truth is, I didn’t always know how those moments would turn out. But eventually, they became something I could look back on.

Perhaps that’s what makes uncertainty a little easier to live with.

You don’t have to know the whole story.

Sometimes, you just have to trust yourself enough to keep turning the page.

How do you handle uncertainty when you don’t know what comes next?

“In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity.”— Albert Einstein

#MentalHealth #Neurodiversity #ADHD #Autism #selfcare #MightyTogether

Monday mood, but make it food. 🍓🥔🍝

Because sometimes the easiest way to explain how you’re feeling is to ask:

What food are you today?

Today, I’m feeling like spaghetti. 🍝

A little tangled, a little all over the place, but somehow making it work. 😂

Maybe you’re mashed potatoes—soft, cozy, and needing comfort.

Maybe you’re watermelon—just trying to feel refreshed.

Maybe you’re garlic bread and simply here for the good things.

Whatever you are today, there’s no wrong answer.

So… what food are you feeling like today? 👇

#MentalHealth #Neurodiversity #selfcare #MightyTogether

“Have patience with all things, but first of all with yourself.”— Francis de Sales

The phrase, “be kind to yourself,” is something we hear all the time. It’s everywhere on socials, printed on coffee mugs, and offered as advice whenever someone is struggling.

Simple enough, right?

Then why is it so hard?

Something about myself I realized is that I’m a lot kinder to other people than I am to myself.

If I see a friend struggling or having a hard day, I will always remind them that they’re doing the best they can. I tell them that everyone makes mistakes, that tomorrow is another day, and that one setback doesn’t define them.

Yet when it’s me?

The conversation sounds completely different.

Somehow, compassion becomes much harder to find.

Have you ever noticed that?

A friend forgets something important.

“No worries, it happens.”

You forget something.

“How could I be so stupid?”

A loved one needs a break.

“They’ve been through a lot. They deserve to rest.”

You need a break.

“I haven’t earned it yet.”

The standards we set for ourselves are often impossible to meet, yet we somehow expect ourselves to meet them anyway.

I’ve never understood why we’re so willing to extend kindness to everyone else while treating ourselves like we’re the exception.

I’m incredibly hard on myself all the time. I’ll rethink of moments past that make me cringe with embarrassment. Sometimes, it’s just a quick thought that gives me the willies. Other times, it stays and lingers for hours, even days to come.

There are moments when I forget something important. Moments where I’ll publish something and immediately second-guess why I put it out there. Sometimes when care-giving, I feel completely guilty for being tired and wishing I had more energy. I somehow always turn something small into a reminder of every flaw I think I have.

I think that for a long time, I started believing that if I stopped criticizing myself, I’d become lazy. That if I wasn’t pushing myself, I’d stop growing. If I lowered my expectations, I’d settle.

But I’ve started thinking if the opposite is true.

How much energy do we spend fighting ourselves?

How many mistakes become bigger simply because we refuse to let them go?

It’s been a learning process for me. And one in which has been slow to grow from.

I’m learning that my value isn’t tied to how productive I was today. That resting isn’t the same as quitting.

It’s hard to fight the loud inner critic, but some days, I forgive myself.

There are some days when I take a break without feeling the guilt of it. There are times when I choose not to replay a situation over and over again because I’m trying to focus on the present moment.

I think that self-compassion isn’t about always knowing the right thing to say to yourself. It’s rather choosing not to believe every cruel thought that crosses your mind.

It’s reminding myself that I’m just as deserving of patience as the people I love most.

When was the last time you showed yourself the same patience you so easily give to someone else?

#MentalHealth #Selfcompassion #selfcare #Neurodiversity #Innercritic #MightyTogether

What comforts you most?

#MentalHealth #Neurodiversity #ADHD #Autism #Anxiety #selfcare #MightyPoets #MightyTogether

Lately, I’ve been thinking about how much time I spend living in my head. And it got me questioning: how many lives do we really live?

There is the life where we run on routine, structure, and discipline—the ordinary moments that make up our days.

But then there are the other lives.

The ones we quietly carry inside our minds.

The life where we made a different choice. The one where we moved to a different city, said yes instead of no, took the chance, stayed longer, left sooner, or pursued a different dream.

We all have these invisible lives.

The versions of ourselves that exist only in our imagination.

They often appear in daydreams, moments of nostalgia, or late at night when everything is quiet and our minds begin wandering through all of the “what ifs.”

I always find myself envisioning another life.

One where things are simpler, more carefree, and above all, quiet. Quiet because my mind would finally be at peace with itself. A version of me that is confident, productive, and outgoing. Someone more easily accepted by society. Someone who doesn’t have to constantly wonder if she is too much or not enough.

I remember road trips when I was younger. I often went to Las Vegas with my parents, so there were long stretches of open desert perfect for daydreaming.

I’d stare out the window, listen to Alanis Morissette’s Jagged Little Pill on my portable CD player, and just dream of another life.

The one where I felt accepted without trying so hard to fit in.

Even then, at a young age, I knew deep down I had emotions far bigger than I understood at the time. I would constantly go back and forth between living my ideal life in my head and being reminded of the one I already lived.

It’s odd because even in my daydreams, I still couldn’t fully achieve the happiness I was searching for because I always brought myself along.

The girl who was sensitive.

The girl who was quiet.

The girl who sometimes felt like she didn’t quite fit.

I think about the roads not taken and the people I might have become.

The version of me that may have moved away.

The version that traveled more.

The version that made different choices.

The version that followed a completely different path.

Would I be different if certain things had happened?

Would I be happier?

More confident?

More at peace?

Would I even recognize that version of myself?

When I was younger, I wanted to live in New York and work at a major magazine. I’d always dreamed of working in entertainment, particularly film.

At one point, I wanted to be a film critic, but eventually I decided that working in my own office in a high-rise building, writing about pop culture, was more suited to me.

Film, music, TV, and books—I was obsessed.

I would pick up the latest copy of J-14 magazine to read the latest gossip on boybands and female solo artists, seeing who was dating who.

I loved Rolling Stone, Cosmopolitan, and Entertainment Weekly, to name a few more.

I wanted to know the latest trends, newest musicians, and upcoming movies.

I wanted a life immersed in that culture.

It’s strange to realize that there are entire versions of our lives that exist nowhere except within us.

Lives that feel real, even though they never happened.

And yet, I don’t think imagining these lives is always a bad thing.

Sometimes these inner worlds reveal something important.

They show us what we long for.

What we miss.

What still matters to us.

They remind us of dreams we may have forgotten or desires we quietly tucked away because life became busy, difficult, or simply different than we expected.

There have been moments where I realized that I still wanted things I thought I had let go of.

I thought I had let go of my passion for moving to New York.

Starting a new life.

Making new friends.

Finding love.

When I went to New York for the first time when I was nineteen, I was stunned by how much hustle and bustle there truly was.

I felt panic walking through the crowded streets of Manhattan. Too many people brushing alongside you and even pushing you out of the way.

I felt overwhelmed.

That made me realize that perhaps my dream of living there wasn’t the right fit for who I am at my core.

Don’t get me wrong, New York is incredibly magical, but it’s just too fast-paced for what I’m used to.

But even after deciding not to pursue New York, I still found myself missing the idea of it.

The life I could’ve had.

The one I always envisioned for myself.

Sometimes I wonder if what I miss isn’t New York itself, but the version of me I thought I would become there.

Would I have been living the dream?

I’ll never know.

But our minds are remarkable in the way they create places where possibilities continue to exist.

A space where we can still wander.

Still hope.

Still imagine.

At the same time, living too much in these imagined lives can become its own kind of sadness.

We can become so focused on the life we could have had that we stop noticing the life we do have.

The small moments.

The ordinary joys.

The beauty that exists right in front of us.

A simple Sunday spent at the beach with friends.

Sitting outside a small café reading a book with a cappuccino in hand.

Having a deep conversation with someone you love.

Sitting beneath a shaded tree and taking in a deep breath of fresh air.

These are the moments I’ve learned to hold onto.

Because maybe these ordinary moments are what those imagined lives were searching for all along.

Honestly, I think there’s a delicate balance.

It’s okay to visit these other lives from time to time.

To wonder.

To reflect.

To imagine.

But we cannot live there forever.

Because while those imagined lives may be beautiful, this life deserves our attention too.

This imperfect, ordinary, complicated life.

The one that exists right now.

The truth is, none of us will ever know who we might have become had things turned out differently.

But perhaps that isn’t the point.

Perhaps the point is simply recognizing that within each of us exists an entire universe of possibilities.

A collection of dreams, alternate paths, and unlived stories that helped shape who we are, even if they never came to be.

And maybe there is something comforting in that.

To know that we are made not only of our memories and experiences, but also of our hopes, our imaginings, and the quiet lives we carry within us.

Because in some small way, those lives are part of us too.

Maybe we don’t live just one life.

Maybe we live many.

Some in reality.

Some in our imagination.

And all of them, in one way or another, help tell the story of who we are.

What is one life you’ve imagined living, and what does it reveal about what you truly value?

“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.”— Eleanor Roosevelt

#MentalHealth #Neurodiversity #Anxiety #MightyTogether #ADHD

Still learning. Still growing. Still trying. 🤍🦋

#MentalHealth #Neurodiversity #Depression #selfcare #Selflove #MightyTogether