I decided not to edit my old posts because I want those pieces to exist as a point in history in my life that I can learn from, and then compare all the writing after that led me back to who I truly am: Someone who does not care for convenience, in fact, adamantly refuses it. Call it resilience or stubbornness or PDA. If I am anything, it is staunchly resolute.

I absolutely cannot even pretend to care about performing (and proving to others that I am performing "well"), hustle culture, optimization, or what new productivity trend is circulating online. I have an innate and true system, it just took me 23 years to realize it.

A short data visualization story that brings awareness to how autism is shown across different genders.

Now when I think about it, I don’t see someone who wasn’t trying. I see someone who kept going without really understanding why it felt so difficult in the first place.

I have thought a lot about death recently. Not in a morbid way but a very painful awareness of life’s temporality way. But also about whether continuing to exist in a world that punishes ethical clarity is worth the cost. But I know this: if I died tomorrow, I would be confident I lived a life of ethics and integrity.

The mental health field needs people with ethical clarity. So far, my experience in the mental health field also punishes people who have it.

The world needs people who notice patterns before they become crises, who hold systems accountable to their stated values, and who refuse to participate in structures that require thoughtlessness.

another me at the roundtable is future Joy. she didn't say much. she didn't say anything. in fact, she showed me something. she got up from the table, pulled out a projector, and showed me what life could and will look like.

I am learning to sit with not knowing. To ask instead of assume. To listen instead of perform competence. To trust that the client is the expert on their own life, and my role is not to have all the answers but to walk beside them as they find their own.

Disability acceptance is not about denial. It is not about pretending these limits do not exist. It is about saying: this is real, this is valid, and I am still whole.

I’ve been dealing with rejection sensitivity dysphoria (RSD) my entire life, even with no awareness of what RSD was.

I live in my head. It’s mostly alright here I guess. There’s room enough for a lot of thinking, though it has gotten messy.