Knowing what you want out of dating before the apps ask

Abby K.

For most of my life, I didn’t really know what it meant to date in a healthy, intentional way. I was misdiagnosed with anxiety throughout childhood, when in reality I had OCD and Tourette’s—things that deeply affected how I viewed myself and interacted with others. For a long time, I placed a lot of my self-worth in being chosen or loved back, especially after falling hard for a best friend in college who didn’t feel the same. That experience shook my confidence, and I spent years trying to prove my value through relationships. Starting in 2020, I began dating a lot—over 50 first dates—and with each one, I learned something new about what I really wanted, how to communicate my boundaries, and how to feel whole no matter the outcome. I realized I didn’t need to mold myself to be who someone else wanted; I could be me, fully, and still be loved. Now I support others who are learning to date from a place of curiosity, confidence, and self-respect. Whether you're new to dating, feeling stuck, or trying to rediscover yourself in the process, I’m here to listen and help you find your way.

Surviving life with ADHD

Adley H.

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.

Overcoming avoidant personality disorder and finding your voice

Adrienne R.

Growing up, I was often overshadowed by my mother’s depression. I learned to suppress my own feelings to avoid conflict, which led to a lot of shyness and struggles with my self-esteem. Therapy became a constant part of my life, but it wasn't until I pursued my Master's in psychology that I realized I had avoidant personality disorder. This revelation was a turning point. For years, I had been pleasing others at the expense of my own needs. But once I understood what was happening, I began to make changes. I’ve learned how to assert myself, trust others, and open up about my feelings. Today, I’m proud of the person I’ve become: someone who is authentic, has deep friendships, and truly enjoys being part of a community. I now embrace life with confidence, knowing that it's okay to be vulnerable and that my voice matters. I hope to share my journey with others who may be struggling with similar challenges.

Managing anxiety and raising kids with ADHD and Autism

Alicia F.

I’m a divorced mother of five, currently raising my children with my partner. I live with anxiety, depression, and a major heart condition, which makes daily life both rewarding and challenging. My family also includes a child diagnosed with ADHD and several others who show signs of ADHD and Autism, making parenting an ongoing learning process. I’ve been through the tough experiences of infertility, pregnancy, and being a NICU mom, and I’ve learned to navigate the complexities of both single and co-parenting. My past includes being married to someone struggling with addiction and alcoholism, which further shaped my understanding of the importance of emotional resilience. Professionally, I work in the Emergency Services for Mental Health, and I’m also going back to school to finish my degree. My partner and I are building a homestead together, and though I consider myself a bit of a hippie at heart, I’m incredibly passionate about being helpful, whether that’s through hobbies like knitting, crocheting, or storytelling. Life is never simple, but I’ve learned that with the right mindset and tools, even the toughest challenges can be faced with grace and growth.

Parenting a child with ADHD and Type 1 diabetes

Anda A.

When my son was in second grade, we got the ADHD diagnosis we had suspected for a while. Navigating his needs felt like learning a new language overnight, and even with support, I often felt like I was building the plane while flying it. Then, when he was 12, he was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes, and once again, our world shifted. I still remember walking out of a free coaching session offered by the pediatrician’s office — it was the first time I felt like someone truly understood the emotional weight we were carrying. That moment of feeling seen and heard changed me. Since then, I’ve become a certified ADHD parenting coach and have supported other families facing the double challenge of managing both neurodivergence and chronic illness. I know how lonely, overwhelming, and exhausting it can feel to juggle the daily demands of ADHD and diabetes care, especially while trying to keep your child’s spirit (and your own) intact. I’m here to listen, to share what helped us survive the hardest seasons, and to offer support so you don't have to carry it all alone.

Navigate neurodivergence in the workplace with strength and self-trust

Angela V.

Being neurodivergent in a traditional work environment can feel like constantly trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. I’ve masked my ADHD for years—writing everything down, overpreparing, and pretending things didn’t overwhelm me when they absolutely did. It was exhausting. Eventually, I stopped trying to ‘fix’ myself and started leaning into what actually worked for me. I found ways to advocate for my needs, build systems that supported my brain, and let go of shame around doing things differently. If you’re navigating a similar path, I see you. There’s no one-size-fits-all way to succeed—and your brain is not broken. Let’s talk about how to own your strengths and thrive authentically.

Managing lifelong anxiety without self-medicating or prescription meds

Angelo F.

Since I can remember I’ve been very sensitive, energetic and full of excitement for life, especially as a child, where I can recall this transforming into crippling anxiety and panic, causing me to suffer endless panic attacks to the point that it was my reality and had no idea until age eighteen that I had panic attacks and general anxiety disorder, with agoraphobia stemming from ADHD, which I put together on my own in 2022. After many years of drinking after work to relax my nerves, then slowly weening myself off it completely in my mid-thirties, I became open to the idea of being on the spectrum of neurodivergence, which my therapist later told me she felt I was on, with my ADHD plus more traits she noticed. Having been validated and gaining more perspective on these findings, I was able to forgive myself and others for being so hard on me, or for being hard on myself all those years while feeling different. I now know that I am not defined by ADHD and I can now use this knowledge to serve me as I’ve hacked how my brain works and can achieve flow state easily now. It’s taken me many years of self-improvement, self-love, vulnerability and openness to become more whole and complete, feeling more comfortable in my own skin, which I’ve very proud of! I was able to overcome my addiction to drinking and smoking week years prior to putting it all together, so I can really be proud of myself for sticking with sobriety even while still learning why I was self-medicating and anxious all my life. Gaining that needed perspective and confidence has been the game changer and has helped me to attain years of lasting deep inner-peace and a knowing that everything will be ok no matter what! I’m happy to say I’ve harnessed and transmuted that excitement and passion for life I had a child back after a spiritual awakening in 2014, that’s been ongoing, with many challenges, but mostly wonderful new opportunities to grow and explore, which I’m more open too now, as I see life as fun game to experience and shape the way that I feel is working and I’ve learned to focus on goals, dreams and projects in alignment with who I am now!

Communicating in relationships as a neurodivergent person

Blue H.

As a late-realized autistic woman, communication has always been challenging for me, but things became especially difficult when I started working with a caregiver who had a significant language and cultural barrier. It often felt like we were speaking different languages, and I struggled to express my needs clearly. I found myself repeating myself, feeling misunderstood, and growing frustrated. The emotional toll of this was draining, and I started to feel isolated, as if I couldn’t truly connect with someone who was supposed to help me. Over time, I learned that effective communication wasn’t just about speaking clearly—it was about listening, understanding the other person’s perspective, and finding common ground. I had to be patient with both her and myself, and we developed strategies that made it easier to connect. This process wasn’t without its challenges, but it helped me realize that even when it feels like communication is impossible, there are ways to make it work. I now want to offer the same support to others who might be facing similar struggles, whether it’s with a caregiver, family member, or colleague. I’ve been through it, and I know how isolating it can feel. I can help others navigate these communication barriers, offering strategies and a listening ear to make those relationships stronger and more understanding.

Parenting a neurodivergent child as a neurodivergent parent

Cassi c.

Becoming a parent completely shifted my world. Before my son was born, I was just living life moment-to-moment, but parenting pushed me to grow in ways I hadn’t imagined. Diagnosed as autistic in adulthood, I had to learn how to advocate not just for myself but also for my child, who is autistic and has ADHD. Our journey hasn’t always been smooth, especially when navigating systems or other adults who had negative views about neurodivergency. I’ve learned to set aside traditional expectations and instead celebrate my son’s unique way of being in the world. Through our gentle parenting approach, I’ve developed strategies for communication, collaboration, and skill-building that respect both of our needs. Parenting helped me find my voice and deepen my empathy, both for myself and others. I know how isolating and overwhelming this path can feel, and I’m here to offer support, validation, and real-world tools to anyone walking a similar journey.

Living with adult ADHD

Christine E.

Earlier this year, I was finally diagnosed with adult ADHD. A friend had suggested that my inability to focus might be related to ADHD and not just depression and anxiety. Taking her advice, I spoke with my psychiatrist. My psychiatrist determined that I indeed had ADHD. I am now on medication which seems to be helping my focus. I've also have done a lot of reading to better understand ADHD and how to manage it.

Social isolation and feelings of loneliness among the autistic community

Crystal M.

As someone who's autistic and has navigated the challenges of social isolation and loneliness, I'm here to listen and offer support. My own experiences have given me a unique understanding of the complexities of autistic life, and I'm passionate about creating a safe space for others to share their stories. Whether you're struggling to connect with others, feeling overwhelmed by social expectations, or simply need someone to understand, I'm here to listen without judgment. I've walked the path of feeling like an outsider, and I've learned that you're not alone in this journey. My research on suicide prevention has also deepened my understanding of the critical importance of connection and community. By chatting with me, you'll be speaking with someone who's been in your shoes and is committed to supporting you. I'm not here to offer generic advice or solutions; instead, I'll work with you to explore your feelings, concerns, and strengths. If you're feeling isolated, lonely, or just need someone to talk to, I'm here. Let's chat about your experiences, and I'll share my own insights and perspectives. Together, we can work through the challenges you're facing and find ways to build more meaningful connections. My goal is to provide a supportive and non-judgmental space for you to be yourself, without feeling like you need to mask or hide.

Living alcohol-free with ADHD and Autism

David W.

I discovered alcohol at a young age as a way to cope with what I didn't realize was undiagnosed ADHD and Autism. For years, alcohol masked my overwhelming anxiety and social confusion. I thought I was just broken, unable to understand why I kept returning to alcohol despite my best efforts. It wasn’t until I was diagnosed with ADHD and Autism that everything made sense. Finally, understanding how my neurodivergence was at the root of my struggles brought me peace and self-compassion. I stopped seeing myself as broken. The understanding of my brain and my body was transformative, and it became the foundation of my lasting recovery. Now, I’m not only alcohol-free but I’ve also learned how to manage my symptoms in healthier ways. I want to help others who might be struggling with substance use due to undiagnosed neurodivergence and guide them toward a path of understanding, self-compassion, and lasting recovery

Single parenting while raising a child with special needs

Diahanne L.

When my son was young, I noticed his speech was delayed, which led me into the overwhelming world of speech therapy, evaluations, and eventually an ADHD diagnosis. Navigating the IEP process for the first time was intimidating—I didn’t know what to expect, and those meetings often left me feeling like I was fighting for my child to be seen for his strengths instead of just his struggles. At the same time, I was managing a divorce, becoming a single parent of two, and trying to balance work, home life, and caregiving responsibilities. There were days I felt stretched thinner than I thought possible. Over time, I found support through therapy, parenting groups, and leaning on my close circle of family and friends. I learned how to advocate fiercely for my kids while also giving myself grace when things felt hard. I know how lonely and exhausting it can feel, and I’m here to listen, encourage, and share what helped me move forward.

Navigating social life as a neurodivergent person

Ebony B.

Growing up as a first-generation American with Jamaican roots, I always felt a little out of sync with the world around me. I was the kid who asked “too many questions” and didn’t always pick up on unspoken social cues. At school, I felt like the weird one, and at home, I sometimes struggled to explain how I was feeling because emotional expression wasn’t really part of the conversation. My neurodivergence added another layer—reading people’s emotions was confusing, and I often worried I was doing something wrong without knowing what. I developed a habit of over-apologizing just to keep the peace, even if I hadn’t actually done anything. For years I masked my quirks to try and fit in, which only made me feel more alone. But over time, I started to embrace my way of moving through the world. I found that I thrive in friendships built around shared passions, even if they don’t follow traditional social “rules.” Now, I want to support others in discovering what authentic connection can look like for them—without needing to change who they are.

Navigating sobriety in lgbtqia+ spaces

Gabe V.

I used to drink for all the reasons that felt justifiable at the time—social anxiety, not feeling comfortable in my body, not being out, and trying to fit into spaces where alcohol felt like the ticket in. At first, it was weekend binge drinking. Then blacking out became so normal, it stopped scaring me. But deep down, I knew something needed to change. After a hard conversation with my husband, I decided to quit. I joined an online sobriety community and, like a true overachiever with ADHD, dove headfirst into podcasts and self-help books. I did relapse three months in, thinking maybe I could “moderate”—spoiler alert: I couldn’t. But that stumble gave me clarity. I’ve now been sober for over a year, with nine strong months of continuous sobriety, and I host support groups including a weekly LGBTQIA+ meeting I started from scratch. I know firsthand how deeply alcohol is woven into our community spaces, and I want to be a real, judgment-free voice for anyone trying to rewrite that narrative. If you’re sober-curious, starting fresh, or just need someone who gets it, I’m here for you.

Navigating relationships when one partner has trauma responses or neurodivergence

Heather S.

I’ve spent much of my life navigating the complexities of relationships where one partner has different emotional and neurological needs. Diagnosed with autism at 32, I’ve had to learn how to express my needs, cope with sensory overload, and create healthy boundaries—all while working to overcome the effects of childhood sexual abuse. At times, I felt misunderstood or disconnected from those I loved, especially when I couldn’t communicate my struggles or when my partner didn’t fully understand my trauma responses. Along the way, I also faced significant health challenges, including using a cane for a period of time, which added another layer to my emotional load. But I didn’t give up on my relationships. Instead, I began to reframe conflict as an opportunity to understand each other more deeply, recognizing that both my neurodivergence and my partner's emotional needs were valid. Through a combination of therapy, personal growth, and the discipline of a carnivore diet, I found strategies to create more meaningful connections. Now, I specialize in helping couples like mine—one partner living with trauma or neurodivergence, the other without—navigate their challenges in a compassionate, effective way.

Parenting a child with medical or behavioral health challenges

Jacob C.

I’m the parent of two children who have both faced unique and complex challenges. My oldest is on the autism spectrum and struggled with significant behavioral health issues, which often left me feeling overwhelmed and isolated as I tried to navigate care systems, school supports, and daily life. My youngest was a high-needs child with medical complexities, and balancing both of their needs pushed me to emotional and physical limits I never expected. Along the way, I learned how to advocate fiercely, ask for help, and create moments of calm and connection, even during the hardest days. My lived experience inspired me to become a Certified Peer Counselor so I could offer other parents the compassionate, judgment-free support I wish I’d had when I felt most alone. If you’re facing the ups and downs of parenting a child with medical or behavioral health needs, I’m here to hold space for you and walk beside you on the journey.

Parenting through adversity and raising neurodivergent kids

Jalissa C.

Growing up, I didn’t have it easy—my mom struggled with her mental health, and I experienced instability and even homelessness at a young age. It took years of learning how to prioritize my own well-being and leaning on therapy and the right people to find my sense of peace and strength. Now, I’m a mom to two incredible neurodivergent daughters, including one with autism. Navigating their diagnoses, advocating for them, and building a safe and supportive environment has pushed me to grow in ways I never imagined. Through caregiving, trauma, and life’s curveballs, I’ve learned how to show up—with patience, resilience, and love. I know how hard it is to feel isolated and overwhelmed. That’s why I’m here: to be a calm, supportive voice when you need someone who just gets it.

Breaking free from people-pleasing and creating authentic relationships

Jana B.

For most of my life, I was a people pleaser. I felt like my role was to make others comfortable, to meet their needs before my own. This became my default setting—always putting others first and masking my own desires to avoid conflict. It wasn’t until I turned 38 and discovered I had ADHD that everything started to click. Suddenly, all of my patterns made sense, but this realization didn’t immediately change everything. I still had to unlearn years of behavior and figure out what my true needs actually were. I worked hard to trust myself, speak up, and create the kind of intimate, honest relationships I had always longed for. I spent years avoiding conflict in relationships, especially romantic ones, where I would ignore that gut feeling telling me, “This isn’t right.” It took a lot of courage to stop numbing and start speaking my needs—even if it meant walking away from things that no longer served me. Today, I prioritize real, authentic connections over superficial pleasantries, and I want to help others reclaim their voice, break free from people-pleasing, and show up as their true selves.

Finding yourself again in midlife after burnout and divorce

Jill K.

Hi, I’m a divorced mom of four (ages 7 to 16), and a few years ago, I hit a wall—hard. Professionally, I was burned out. Personally, I was unraveling. I had always been the one who “had it together,” but inside, I was crumbling under the weight of perfectionism, people-pleasing, and unspoken mental health struggles. At 40, I was diagnosed with ADHD, and it was like turning on a light in a room I didn’t know I’d been sitting in all my life. That diagnosis became a starting point—not just for understanding my brain, but for learning how to stop abandoning myself. I’ve been slowly and steadily untangling my identity from old stories and outdated roles. Divorce brought its own set of heartbreak and growth, especially as a mom trying to guide four kids through the same transition. There’s no roadmap for rebuilding your life in midlife, but I’ve gotten really good at getting curious, asking the right questions, and leaning into the unknown. I don’t have everything figured out, but I’m no longer afraid to start over—and I’d love to walk with you while you find your way, too.