renee

Did you ever feel like you were “too much,” “not enough,” or just never quite fit the mold?

You’re not alone.

Many neurodivergent adults—especially those raised as girls or socialized to be “good”—slipped through the cracks in childhood. Back then, we didn’t have the language. Neurodivergence was often mislabeled as a behavior issue instead of recognized as what it is: a brain wired differently.

Now? Adults are starting to realize that the struggles that made them feel awkward, bad, or broken might have had less to do with them—and more to do with an environment never designed with their needs in mind.

If you own a small business or are a solopreneur struggling right now, this message is for you.

There’s no doubt: people have pulled back on spending for anything that’s not essential right now. And that hits the wellness world extra hard—especially private-pay practices.

You’ve probably noticed I’ve been a little sporadic lately. So much is brewing in my life right now that I wanted to send a personal update this week—my rhythm will return soon.

My son is in his final month of high school—final projects, award ceremonies, prom . . . all the glorious (and bittersweet) things. I keep reminding myself I’m not the one who has to be stressed. Our bodies remember finals week like muscle memory, right?! If you’ve ever had one of those dreams where a paper is due and you forgot about it until 3 hours before—it’s like that.

I should have known there was a term for this.

My child with support and advocacy needs would need some extra special attention because the world was overwhelming his nervous system and then I would wrap everything I knew to do around him, up to and including new professionals, dietary changes, new environments/schools, whatever it took. I am a person who makes things happen, after all.

And each time, just as things seemed to be settling . . .

I call us parents of kids with advocacy and support needs. Others call us parent caregivers. Whatever the label, it’s a full-time job—before you even add on your paying job, household management, and, well… everything else.

There were phases to my job:

Before diagnosis: I swung between feeling like I was failing my child (why was he so emotional all the time?) and briefly wondering if the judgmental voices were right—maybe I wasn’t disciplining enough. Thankfully, my child made it very clear each time that was not the problem (ha!)

I have a personal practice of finding connection—both with people and with nature. This connection isn’t just about appreciating beauty; it’s a key part of how I regulate my nervous system.

For me, it goes even deeper. Nature reminds me of my personal Truth (week 6 of our Zapped to Zen mindfulness program). It’s a grounding force that brings me back to the perfection within imperfection.

This past week, mindfulness in nature helped me find stability—even while engaging in social justice efforts, worrying about the personal impact of politics, and supporting a loved one through a difficult time.

This newsletter is going to have a different flavor.

If you’re paying attention . . . You may have noticed that I raised an autistic child who is now an autistic young adult.

I have called the young adult phase “the slow reveal.”
Young adulthood, in many ways, is a slow reveal for everyone. What will come together for them? How will they show up to life? Did you set them up, as best you could, so they could seize success if they chose to?

“She. She’s figured out
All her doubts were someone else’s point of view . . .

Are you locked up in a world that’s been planned out for you?

Are you feeling like a social tool without a use?”

These lines are from the song “She” by Green Day.

These lyrics still hit home for my inner 20-something. And as I turn 54 (what?!?), I realize I’m not stuck in that story—I’m evolving it. NOT stuck there, but living it forward because I’ve done, and I keep doing, my personal growth work.

“I’m not good enough” was what my what I tongue-in-cheek refer to as “#1 on my Top 20 playlist.”

As a person who strived to always be good enough, it was easy to be “locked up” in everyone else’s beliefs for what “good” looked like. I’d just try harder.

Personal growth can feel like déjà vu—old struggles resurface, making us question whether we’ve actually made progress.

I keep laughing at myself as I question what the lifestyle is that I want to live and getting overwhelmed thinking about the changes it will require. Right now, I want to disengage from handing money to the monopolies that rule our purchasing and communications—the ones that pushed us into faster lifestyles and more extreme and polarized emotional states–but it’s almost as if . . .