Swipe Left On Perfection

Oh, Just another 40 year old AuDHD woman with a lot to say….after maybe a side quest or two.

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Bellew is a comedic writer, Poet, the possessor of hilarious dating experiences, and the holder of the bear necessities.
  • The ND Raver Packing System: Visual Checklist, Kits, and Go Bags

    The ND Raver Packing System: Visual Checklist, Kits, and Go Bags

    Raves and festivals are amazing—until packing melts your brain.

    I don’t know about you but my house always looks like a break in happened when I’m trying to get ready for an event due to the rush of anxiety hitting my body when I haven’t prepared for it first. Objects thrown, I’m starting to sweat into my outfit without even dancing in it! AuDHD paralysis can be a bitch sometimes but nothing prepares me for the meltdown and sometimes embarrassment/shame I would feel the next day coming home from that same night of fun and am constantly tripping over my belongings like clothing mountains and tubes of glitter everywhere just to use the bathroom in the middle of the sleepy morning.

    In the case of my ADHD friend Taylor, it makes being on time a chore, often over packing for events, and making multiple trips once she’s in line because she forgets her ID in the car. I’m sure a lot of you have been there too. Executive dysfunction is not fun to experience for yourself but we are slowly overcoming it, one Rave at a time. I love her to pieces, quirks and all. We can always make adjustments and have patience as we navigate our traits together. That’s what friends are for.

    Here’s a neurodivergent-friendly system that reduces overwhelm, spreads effort across days, and makes sure you don’t forget the crucial stuff. Shoutout to TayTay’s new golden tip: pack for 30 minutes a day in the week leading up to the event to keep focus high and stress low. 💜

    Why This Works

    • Visual over verbal: see everything at once, reduce working-memory load.
    • Chunked tasks: 30-minute sprints prevent fatigue and decision paralysis.
    • Modular kits: prebuilt containers you grab and drop into your bag.
    • Go Bags: different sizes for different contexts, so you’re never overpacked or underprepared.

    System Overview

    1. Visual Master Checklist (wall poster or whiteboard).
    2. Color-Coded Kits (clear pouches/bins with labels).
    3. Go Bags (EDC, Venue, Car/Campsite).
    4. 7‑Day, 30‑min Pack Plan (TayTay method).
    5. Post-Event Reset so future-you wins.

    1) Visual Master Checklist

    Print this on one page, or write it big on a whiteboard. Check off with a dry-erase marker as items enter a kit or bag.

    • Identity (Because we need YOU to show up as YOU)
    • ID, ticket/QR, payment card, cash, insurance card.
    • Phone, portable charger, cables, earplugs, spare ear tips
    • Loop earplugs or foam, eye mask, tinted glasses, stim toys, fidget ring, chewing gum
    • Medications (labeled), blister kit, bandages, antihistamine, pain reliever, electrolytes, naloxone, condoms, hand sanitizer
    • Collapsible bottle or hydration pack, electrolyte sticks, easy snacks (chews, bars), ginger candy
    • Outfit(s), layers, socks, comfy shoes, rain shell, small towel, warm item for cooldown
    • Sunscreen, lip balm, deodorant, toothbrush/paste, wet wipes, tissues
    • Printed address, parking info, meeting point plan, whistle
    • Glitter/biodegradable, face gems, fans, kandi, small gifts
    • Blanket, spare clothes, extra water, spare chargers, trash bags

    Tip: Use icons next to each category for instant visual scanning.

    2) Color-Coded Kit System

    Build small, clear pouches that live together in one larger bag. Label with large text + color tape.

    • Red: Medical + Safety Kit
    • Personal meds (in original containers), pain reliever, antihistamine, bandages, moleskin, blister patches, alcohol wipes, tweezers, naloxone, condoms, emergency contacts card
    • Blue: Hydration + Nutrition Kit
    • Collapsible bottle or hydration bladder, electrolyte packets, snacks (high-carb + salty), gum, ginger candy
    • Purple: Sensory Regulation Kit
    • Earplugs (2 pairs), spare tips, eye mask, sunglasses/tinted lenses, stim toy, cooling towel or foldable fan
    • Yellow: Hygiene + Sun Kit
    • SPF, lip balm, mini deodorant, wet wipes, tissues, hand sanitizer
    • Green: Tech Kit
    • Power bank, cables, wall plug, cable ties, extra SIM or eSIM QR, tiny flashlight
    • Silver/Gray: Outfit Sustain Kit
    • Safety pins, fashion tape, mini sewing kit, hair ties, body wipes, foot care (cushions, moleskin)
    • Black: Documents + Access
    • ID, tickets, card/cash, parking pass, emergency contacts card, hotel/ride info

    Pro move: Add QR codes on kit labels linking to the kit’s item list in your notes app.

    3) Go Bags (Choose What Fits Your Event)

    • Micro/EDC Go Bag (on you at all times)
    • Mini wallet with ID/ticket/card, earplugs, 1 snack, lip balm, tiny sanitizer, phone + small battery, gum
    • Venue Go Bag (fanny pack/sling)
    • Micro bag contents plus: electrolytes, extra earplugs, compact rain shell, small wipes, small fan, tiny first-aid, foldable bottle
    • Car/Campsite Go Bag (stays outside the venue)
    • Big water, bigger first-aid, spare socks/shoes, hoodie/blanket, extra snacks, chargers, trash bags, spare outfit

    Label each bag with a luggage tag listing its kits.

    4) TayTay’s 30-Minute-a-Day Pack Plan

    Set a timer. Stop when it dings. If energy remains, do a second 10-minute “victory lap.”

    • Day 7: Brain Dump + Visual Board
    • Make the master checklist. Lay out empty kits and label them. Put the board somewhere visible.
    • Day 6: Laundry + Outfit Lock
    • Choose outfits, socks, layers. Start laundry. Put complete outfits into large zip bags.
    • Day 5: Build Core Kits
    • Medical/Safety, Sensory, Hygiene. Check expirations. Refill meds. Add emergency contacts card.
    • Day 4: Tech + Power
    • Charge power banks, gather cables/plugs, test everything. Put into Tech Kit.
    • Day 3: Hydration/Food
    • Buy electrolytes/snacks. Pre-portion into small bags. Rinse hydration bladder, dry fully.
    • Day 2: Documents + Logistics
    • Download tickets, offline maps. Print parking info. Set meet-point plan. Cash out small bills. Pack ID/card in Access Kit.
    • Day 1: Final Pack + Dress Rehearsal
    • Stage everything by the door. Pack Venue Go Bag. Pack Car/Campsite Go Bag. Do a “walk-through” with the bag on. Adjust weight and strap length.
    • Event Morning: Quick Reset
    • Re-check top 5: ID, phone, tickets, earplugs, electrolytes. Water up. Go.

    Bonus: Body-doubling with a friend on video for any day that feels sticky.

    5) Visual Staging and Layout

    • Use a bright “packing runway” (bed or table) with painter’s tape lanes for each category.
    • Place kits beneath the checklist category they serve.
    • Keep a “Need to Buy” sticky on the board. Snap a photo before you run to the store.

    6) ND-Friendly Execution Hacks

    • Timeboxing: 25/5 Pomodoro for tricky categories.
    • Pairing: Put earplugs on top of your ticket—no ticket without earplugs.
    • Redundancy: 2x earplugs, 2x chargers. One on-body, one in bag.
    • Clear Containers: Transparent pouches reduce search time and panic.
    • Big Labels: All-caps + icons. Example: “EARPLUGS • 🔇”
    • Sensory Safeguards: Soft clothes for travel, tinted glasses, a pre-rave quiet playlist.
    • “Last Touch” Tray: A small bowl by the door for ID/keys/tickets the night before.

    7) Sample One-Page Printable Checklist

    Copy this into your notes or print it.

    • On-Body
    • ID, ticket, phone, small battery, earplugs, card/cash
    • Kits
    • Medical/Safety (red): meds, bandages, moleskin, naloxone, condoms
    • Sensory (purple): earplugs x2, eye mask, stim, sunnies
    • Hygiene (yellow): SPF, lip balm, wipes, sanitizer, tissues
    • Tech (green): power bank, cables, wall plug, light
    • Hydration/Food (blue): bottle/bladder, electrolytes, snacks
    • Outfit Sustain (silver): safety pins, tape, hair ties, foot care
    • Access (black): ID, tickets, cash, contacts card, parking info
    • Venue Go Bag
    • All kits except Car/Campsite-only items
    • Car/Campsite
    • Water, hoodie/blanket, spare shoes/socks, snacks, chargers, trash bags, spare outfit
    • Final 5
    • ID • Tickets • Phone • Earplugs • Electrolytes

    8) Safety and Consent Basics

    • Share your meet-point and end-of-night plan with your crew.
    • Write emergency contacts on paper in your Access kit.
    • Hydrate steadily; alternate water with electrolytes.
    • Trust your body. If overwhelmed: earplugs in, glasses on, step to the edge, breathe.

    9) Post-Event Reset (15–30 Minutes)

    • Empty kits onto the “runway.”
    • Toss trash, note items to replace, set a reminder to restock within 48 hours.
    • Recharge batteries, wash hydration gear, launder rave clothes.
    • Re-pack kits immediately so they’re ready next time.

    Mini Versions if You’re Short on Time

    • 15-Min Pack: On-Body + Earplugs + Electrolytes + Power Bank + Snacks.
    • One-Bag Mode: Venue Go Bag only, with slimmed kits.
    • Car-Safe Mode: Keep heavy/backup items in Car/Campsite bag.
  • Poem: #Goldilocks at the Rave

    Poem: #Goldilocks at the Rave

    I’m a raver with a heart of gold,
    earplugs in, head bobbing on beat.
    Lights flash, heavy bass steadies me.
    I map the exits. I sip water. I breathe.

    I’m Goldilocks on a dance floor,
    Enjoying my life, welcoming my “just right”
    The porridge is the vibe,
    the chair is a boundary,
    the bed is how we rest together.

    Bear One: Avoidant Attachment.
    He stands at the edge of the crowd,
    eyes careful, smile closed.
    He says, I’m fine, don’t worry—then vanishes.
    His porridge is too cold—no steam, no scent.
    His chair looks sturdy until I lean.
    His bed is made with sharp corners—
    no place for a future let alone the morning.
    I say: I care about you,
    but I can’t love a ghost,
    I can’t slow-dance through a door that won’t open.

    Bear Two: Anxious Attachment.
    He texts before the drop, during, after—
    Are you here? Are you okay? Do you still want me?
    His porridge is too hot—
    all flame, no breath.
    His chair tilts me forward until I tip.
    His bed I don’t meet, rushing won’t let us sleep—
    checking, checking, checking.
    I say: I like for you as a friend
    as I need space to dance,
    room to finish a thought,
    silence to hear my own song.

    Then—Bear Three: Me.
    I become the “just right” I was seeking:
    porridge warm, boundaries clear,
    a chair that holds both of us, balanced,
    a bed where trust is soft and sleep comes easy.
    I am still Goldilocks, yes—
    but I am also the third bear now,
    and I’m looking for that bear, now myself, in another.

    Future Bear: Secure Attachment.
    They meets my gaze, then looks away, then back—
    no tug, no vanish.
    They asks, Want water? Need quiet? Want to dance?
    The porridge is warm—
    steady heat I can trust.
    Their chair fits my shape—
    I sit, I rise, it’s still there.
    A bed so soft without swallowing me.
    We sleep, we wake, we laugh about our dreams and the stories of the night before.

    With them, I can info-dump about the DJ’s set,
    about stims that help, about sunlight hurting.
    They listens, not to fix me, but to know me.
    They tells me what they feel, not what they think I want. They don’t fear my questions.
    We take breaks when my senses spike—
    hallway, cool air, counting breaths.
    We return when I’m ready.

    But until then, I’m still Goldilocks.
    I bring my own spoon and seat cushion.
    I taste slowly. I sit briefly. I try the bed last.
    I choose what’s kind to my nervous system.
    I pick “just right” by how my body unclenches,
    how my words find room,
    how the night ends gentle.

    Until we meet, Music can be that bear—
    steady arms of wonky bass,
    A Pash of melody when night gets drafty.
    Community can be that bear—
    hands up, circle wide,
    water shared, shoulders checked,
    we keep each other safe under the lasers.

    And like the old story’s ending, I learn:
    I won’t enter homes—or hearts—without permission. I always have choices.
    I’ll think twice, every time.
    I won’t seek the too-cold or the too-hot;
    I won’t chase what isn’t secure,
    or anyone who doesn’t live by the rave’s promise:
    Peace, Love, Unity, Respect—PLUR for you, and PLUR for me.
    I keep my door kind and locked, my welcome warm and clear.
    If you carry your own key of consent and care,
    come in.
    If not, I wish you well through the smell of street meat on your walk in the woods.

    So I dance, third-bear steady, Goldilocks brave—
    home in my body,
    home in the crowd,
    home in the music,
    until “just right” finds me,
    and we make a cottage we both have keys to.

  • “Love Is Love” (Relearned): Friendship, Perlers, and Harm Reduction in the Rave Community

    “Love Is Love” (Relearned): Friendship, Perlers, and Harm Reduction in the Rave Community

    Neurospicy Literal Thinking

    I used to hear “love is love” only as a rallying cry for equality in romantic relationships, especially in the LTBTQ community. Beautiful, necessary—yes. But recently, I heard it explained in a way that unhooked my brain from a single pedestal: it’s not just about who we date. It’s about decentering romance as the main character and honoring every form of love that keeps us alive—family love, platonic love, community love, the kind we build on a dancefloor at 2 a.m. when the bass is deep and everything feels electric and soft.

    As someone who is AuDHD, I tend to think literally. For years, I put romantic love at the top, hyper-fixating on partners, building pedestals, and confusing intensity with priority. That love wasn’t “wrong,” but it became the only lens I knew. Relearning “love is love” is me widening that lens. It’s recognizing that the love I share with friends—especially in the rave scene—is not the understudy of romance. It’s a headliner of its own kind: dependable, playful, ritual-rich love that is just as intimate and just as life-giving. Let me tell you, intimacy was another word I had to also relearn.

    This is about how I’m learning to love widely: through presence, boundaries, and care. It’s also about beads, perlers, and Narcan—and why those tiny details matter.

    Love Beyond the Pedestal

    Romance is one kind of love—not the summit. When I decenter it, I can:

    • Give my friends the depth I once saved only for partners.
    • Stop treating romantic attention as proof of worth.
    • Let each kind of love be complete on its own terms.

    When I treat platonic love like it’s “real love,” my nervous system calms down. I’m less likely to spiral into all-or-nothing thinking with partners. I can pour care into friendships without feeling like I’m “misplacing” it. I can feel whole—because I’m connected.

    I’m not anti-romance. I’m anti-monopoly. The more I honor friendship, the more generous my life becomes—because love stops bottlenecking through one person or one idea of “forever.” Perlers on a wrist, a hand on a shoulder, a bottle of water pressed into your palm—these are vows, too. Small ones, repeated often, and somehow more honest than grand speeches shouted over subwoofers.

    “Love is love” means all these loves count. The rave, the craft table, the group chat, the ride home. The ways we make space for each other’s minds and bodies. The ways we leave no one behind when the sun comes up.

    If you’ve been waiting for romance to give you permission to feel deeply, consider this your sign: your friendships are already profound. Your community is already a love story. And that beadwork around your wrist? That’s a little, wearable proof

    A Raver’s Guide to Loving Your Friends Well

    The dancefloor is a living ecosystem. Loving your people there is both poetic and practical.

    1) Rituals of Care: Trinkets, Kandi, and Perlers

    • Kandi bracelets: Little wearable promises. I make them with colors and words that remind my friends who they are: “ENOUGH,” “HYDRATE,” “BE KIND” and “SAFE” along with some spicy or sassy phrases. “Butt water” is still my favorite.
    • Perlers: Pixel art made from fuse beads—charms, necklaces, pendants. I started making custom perlers for friends with their favorite symbols, artists, or inside jokes. It’s a love letter in beads: time, attention, embodiment. Perlers feel like talismans—tiny shields that say “you belong here.”
    • Gifting etiquette:
    1. Ask and offer, don’t assume. “Can I gift you a kandi/perler?”
    2. Consent, even for sweetness. Not everyone likes being touched or surprised.
    3. Trade with intention. The point isn’t quantity; it’s connection.

    These objects aren’t just cute—they’re anchors. For AuDHD brains, tangible tokens help recall safety and belonging when the crowd overwhelms.

    If you’ve been waiting for romance to give you permission to feel deeply, consider this your sign: your friendships are already profound. Your community is already a love story. And that beadwork around your wrist? That’s a little, wearable proof.

    More than just the Physical…

    2) Listen for Needs and Boundaries (And Believe Them)

    • Before the event: “What do you need to feel safe tonight? Any hard nos? Any early exits?”
    • During: “Color check—green/yellow/red?” Short, concrete check-ins work well in loud spaces.
    • After: “Anything I missed? Anything you want different next time?”

    Scripts that help:

    • “I’m stepping out for air for 10 minutes—want company or solo?”
    • “I don’t want substances tonight, please don’t offer.”
    • “No photos for me tonight.”
    • “I’m overstimulated—can we find a wall/exit/earplug break?”

    Boundaries are love in action. They’re not a wall; they’re a map.

    Let’s keep each other alive. Test your party favors. Please. And for the LOVE of god, please do NOT drive if you’re in any way NOT sober.

    3) Harm Reduction Is Love

    Not medical advice—just community care principles to learn and personalize.

    • Carry Narcan (naloxone) and learn to use it. Many cities offer free kits and brief trainings; check expiration dates and storage guidelines.
    • Test substances. Reagent test kits save lives. If it’s not tested, rethink it. Dancesafe.org is a good option before hand and often times, you can find them at events as well.
    • Hydration + electrolytes. Water is great; add salts so you don’t crash.
    • Earplugs or in my case, HEADPHONES. Protect your future joy—tinnitus is forever.
    • Buddy system. Arrive together, leave together. Share live locations if comfortable.
    • Cooling and Food breaks. Overheating sneaks up. Schedule breathers. Nothing has saved my ass better than Chicken Tendies on multiple occasions. If you’re taking any form of party favors for the night, please be smart and have some sort of food in your system for the day. And REFUEL. Carrying Candy is also a go to of mine and has helped a few people in their Crash outs.
    • Consent culture. Ask before touching, filming, or posting. “No” is a full sentence. Something I’ve also learned not through my parents, but honestly through the rave scene. And no matter how I learned, I am still thankful and will teach what I know. I’ve also had my ass grabbed by people who think a cute girl is free terrain for that. It’s NOT. Looking cute is NOT consent.

    Harm reduction says: I want you alive, free, and dancing next week too.

    4) Being Yourself Is Also a Gift

    For a long time, I thought I had to perform a certain version of “good friend.” Now I’m practicing:

    • Naming my limits without shame: “I can stay until 1 a.m. and then I need my quiet.”
    • Claiming my sensory needs: breaks, stim toys, preferred spots in the venue.
    • Bringing my interests: perler crafting, kandi sessions, playlist swaps, nerdy deep dives.
    • Sharing my timeline: “I respond slowly after events. I still care.”

    The right people don’t need the performance. Your unvarnished presence gives them permission to be real too.

    Reframing Hyperfocus as Care, Not Control

    Hyperfixation once made me see partners as the axis of my world. I’m learning to channel that focus into community care that doesn’t consume or control.

    • Make a “care kit” bin: earplugs, band-aids, gum, cough drops, electrolytes, hand sanitizer, hair ties, spare battery, granola, wet wipes, small perlers or kandi for morale boosts.
    • Build perler nights: quiet pre-rave hangs where we craft, chat boundaries, and plan rides. It’s social, soothing, and sets everyone up to feel held.
    • Rotate roles: one person handles hydration reminders, another watches the time for breaks, another navigates the map. Shared care prevents burnout.

    Micro-Moments of Love on the Dancefloor

    Tiny things that change the night:

    • A perler presented to someone right before their favorite drop.
    • A hand signal: “water?” “earplugs?” “exit?” established ahead of time.
    • Standing shoulder-to-shoulder at the edge, letting a friend decompress.
    • A text the next morning: “You were radiant last night. Thank you for dancing with me.”

    These moments are small, but they stitch a community together.

    What “Love Is Love” Means to Me Now

    • Love is the kandi I knot with your name and the perler I melt just right so it won’t break.
    • Love is carrying Narcan because I want you home safe.
    • Love is accepting your “no” and trusting your body’s wisdom.
    • Love is a boundary that keeps the friendship renewable.
    • Love is letting romance be love—and letting friendship be love, too, without ranking them.

    I’m still literal. Maybe I always will be. So here’s my literal translation now: love is love is love is love, and the shape it takes—romantic, platonic, familial, communal—doesn’t change its worth. When we stop crowning one form, the rest can finally breathe.

    And on the nights when the bass is heavy and the lights blur and the crowd surges, I’ll be the one with earplugs, water, Narcan, and batch of homemade perlers—reminding you that you are loved, and already enough.

    Perlers, PLUR, and the Language of Friendship

    In rave spaces, love shows up in objects and rituals. Not in diamonds or dozen red roses as I had seen in movies (I instantly thought of the Scene in The Room where the main character buys a dozen red roses), but in perlers—crafted necklaces, cuffs, charms, and keychains made from fused Perler beads. They’re tiny mosaics of care, traded and gifted with a little ceremony: hand to hand, palm to palm, a look in the eyes, a hug if consented. It’s art, but it’s also a message: I see you. I thought of you. You belong here.

    The Magic wand is an all time favorite of mine.
    • Perlers are time made tangible. Someone sat down and chose your colors, your symbols, your initials, that inside joke only five people would get.
    • They’re community memory. You can hold one and remember the exact moment you received it—the bassline, the sweaty joy, the laughter.
    • They’re gentle social bridges. For those of us with social anxiety or who are neurodivergent, trading perlers can be the perfect script: offer, connect, smile, move at your own pace.

    The more I’ve leaned into this, the more I’ve felt romance stepping off the pedestal. The love I feel when a friend ties a perler around my wrist is not “less than.” It’s not practice for “real love.” It is real love—just arranged differently.

    Rewriting Intimacy: Friendship as a Primary Relationship

    Here’s what I’m learning to name out loud:

    • Friendship can be primary. It can be the relationship you plan your week around, the bond you protect with boundaries and repair with care.
    • Intimacy isn’t a genre reserved for romance. It’s how we share playlists, check each other’s water bottles, swap earplugs, and walk each other to the bathroom at 2 a.m.
    • Commitment is not measured by labels alone. It’s measured by who shows up when the lights come on and the glitter has to be cleaned off the floor.

    When I stopped expecting romance to be the sole container for depth, I noticed how deep my friendships already were. Friends who bring me my stim toys without asking. Friends who text “home safe?” before they even get in their Uber. Friends who know the exact moment I need to step outside, breathe, and find a quieter corner of the world.

    Romance is one kind of love—not the summit. When I decenter it, I can:

    Give my friends the depth I once saved only for partners.

    Stop treating romantic attention as proof of worth.

    Let each kind of love be complete on its own terms.

    When I treat platonic love like it’s “real love,” my nervous system calms down. I’m less likely to spiral into all-or-nothing thinking with partners. I can pour care into friendships without feeling like I’m “misplacing” it. I can feel whole—because I’m connected.

    AuDHD, Sensory Care, and the Dancefloor

    As an AuDHD raver, I used to think my needs were “extra.” Now I see them as a map for kinder spaces:

    • Sensory planning: Knowing the venue layout, where the quieter edges are, and how to get fresh air quickly.
    • Communication tools: A “thumbs up/down” check-in, color cards, or just a sentence like, “If I step away, I’ll be back soon.”
    • Self-soothing: Chewelry, stim toys, soft textures, predictable snacks. These are not quirks—they’re gear.
    • Exit strategies: It’s okay to leave early or to choose a spot where you can sway instead of bounce. Dancing is not a test.

    When friends honor these needs, I don’t feel “managed”—I feel loved. And when I honor theirs, I feel the power of being part of something that treats difference as a feature, not a glitch.

    Rituals That Keep Us Close

    A few friend rituals I love that make community feel sturdy:

    1. Trade perlers at sunset before the first big set, with a quick intention for the night.
    2. Do a “gear circle” before going in: water, plugs, meds, ID, plan.
    3. Pick a “home base” and name it (“the left tree,” “glow arch,” “back of stage right”).
    4. After the show, share three gratitudes—one for the music, one for someone in the crew, one for yourself.
    5. Once a month, have a crafting hang—remind yourselves love isn’t event-dependent.

    Hope this guide can help yourself rethink the phrase “love is love” like it has for me. Thank you for reading!

    -Shae

  • Poem: What You Carry

    Poem: What You Carry

    Poem Day!

    Let them keep their own stormy weather.
    If a cloud names you unworthy,
    don’t stand in the rain explaining—
    step into your own sun.

    Not everyone will clap
    when you breathe, bloom, begin.
    Some will measure you with bent rulers,
    some will leave mid-sentence.

    Wave anyway.
    A closed door is just a wall
    you don’t need to lean on.

    Let the wind take the labels.
    Let the echoes fade.

    Your life is not a courtroom—
    it’s a field you plant,
    a road you name,
    a sky you keep widening.

    Choose what you carry.
    Set down the fragile need
    to be understood by every passerby.

    Walk light.
    Make your own weather.
    Be the author of the day
    that starts inside your chest.

    It’s a wonderful time to be alive.

    The real thing. The whole flame.

    And I won’t say sorry just for burning.

    You get the choice of what you carry.

  • Raving With AuDHD: My Rainy Birthday, a Weird MC, and the Comfort of a Green Hello Kitty Sweater

    Raving With AuDHD: My Rainy Birthday, a Weird MC, and the Comfort of a Green Hello Kitty Sweater

    Disclaimer: Autism/ADHD in adults looks different for everyone. For me, it’s often about sensory load—especially in loud, crowded spaces like raves. This is meant to be a helpful guide for those navigating neurodivergent overstimulation in the rave community at events.

    The night started in the rain

    It was my birthday, and the event was listed as a new bar in Alameda. Freshly opened only the night previous. Very little information online about the location but it ended up being in a hangar as it was on the old naval base off of the water of the bay, on a cold, rainy and surprisingly windy night. I showed up in my favorite street clothes: a cute purple dress covered in cartoons, white comfortable platforms that I changed into as I decided the other previous shoes would hurt my feet for standing in them too long, glitter tights, and fluffy braided hair (which I personally love because it keeps the hair out of my face (and offers color without dying my hair of overheating from wig use). Before I left the Taylor’s car, I instinctively grabbed my bright green Hello Kitty sweater that I let her borrow prior to this show. I didn’t put it on yet, but having it with me felt like a little forcefield. That tiny “I’ve got options” feeling matters.

    In line, my friend Rob surprised me—he drove straight from Sacramento after work to make it. That warmed me up from the inside, because it had been a surprise that he was coming. The feeling of being considered I was incredibly thankful for because moments later a gust of wind dumped pooled rainwater from the tent straight down my back. Ice water shock. Classic rave pregame. We couldn’t help but laugh at the noise that audibly came out of my mouth when it hit my bare skin on my back.

    The music… and the MC from another dimension

    • Opener 1: DuchessDnB….I’ve seen her before and usually love her, but this set felt like R&B with fast drums and bass—just not clicking for me. I tuned out a bit. I tried to get into the set but felt overwhelmingly UNDER STIMULATED.
    • JAMAL: I was hopeful, especially after seeing him last week—but there was an MC this time, and it absolutely killed the vibe for me and my besties. Think: someone’s drunk uncle rambling on stage yelling “Disgusting!” and “Sasquatch!” The energy felt chaotic and, honestly, creepy. My nervous system labeled it “demonic” and “unsafe” and hit the red alert.

    As I pushed closer to the crowd, I felt that familiar wave: overstimulation creeping in—sound pressure, lights, bodies, unpredictable voice on the mic. My best friend (also neurodivergent) was struggling too. This is where I rely on my toolkit.

    How I managed over stimulation in the moment

    Overstimulation relaxation

    A change I’ve learned to navigate only this year is to recognize when I’m getting overwhelmed and handle it appropriately for me and Don’t wait to think it will solve itself. Really, finding out I’m not only ADHD but autistic through my evaluation gave me the cement knowledge I needed to not wonder if this played a role in my prior fainting at shows, which was a regular occurrence. I had suspected it but always denied that part of me and once I received the diagnosis, I began to dig deep for answers that could help me and put new experiences into practice.

    When my system starts to flood, I don’t push through—I pivot. IMMEDIATELY.

    1. Step away: I backed out to the edge of the crowd, away from security that would also harass me, and sat down
    2. Eyes closed: I shut off visual input to reduce load.
    3. Breathing: Slow inhales/exhales until my heart rate matched my breath.
    4. Temperature shift: I let the cold air hit my face.
    5. Comfort item: I put on the Hello Kitty sweater. Instant relief. I’ve learned sweaters are a legit regulation tool for me—pressure, warmth, familiarity. Simple, effective.
    6. Food. Safety food helps. For me, my safe food at shows is chicken tenders and fries. Absolutely.

    Meanwhile, the set dragged on because the headliner—Dimension—was late. Time distortion is real when you’re overwhelmed; everything feels longer and louder.and longer of something you’re not enjoying feels like a nightmare.

    Plot twist: I lost my phone

    Right as Dimension finally started, my phone disappeared. My bestie called it—security answered. I could barely hear them over the music. All I caught was “where… you… meet…” and I yelled back, “CHICKEN TENDERS!” As there was only one little food truck there that served food. And it was scarce with fellow ravers since the show started. It worked! A kind security lady reunited me with my phone and she was gifted back a million hugs. The best of the security all of the night.

    I ordered some chicken tenders, ate them, and then was ready to join society.

    My friends held onto it after that. No videos from me this time—honestly, that’s how my best nights go. I can never offer proof to the stories I have lived because of this factor but at least I get to live in the moment presently.

    The reset: Dimension delivered

    From the moment Dimension hit, the energy flipped. I closed my eyes and let the music pull me where it wanted—right up to the second row. We all know how much I love to feel the energy of people around me with my eyes closed and people are kind about my adventures as a lil weird woman. The DJ…..He chain-smoked just as his memes depicted, the crowd surged, and I found my rhythm again. I handed out “animals in heat” stickers to those living their best lives, cheered for the dancers around me, and bopped with my favorite community.

    Rob got stickered! lol

    That’s the other part of regulation for me: connection. People know I’m a little different, and they’re kind about it. No one questions my headphones anymore; they compliment them. Someone gave me a Kandi that said “meow meow,” a little nod to my kitty ear headphones. I’m starting to be recognized from show to show, and a girl told me my vibe at another set was infectious. I felt witnessed—and it didn’t feel scary like it used to. What a beautiful soul that woman was and such a special compliment on my bday.

    He finished with one of my favorite songs “Guardian Angel” and ensured the night for me ended on a better note.

    I saw myself in this mornings post from the DJ’s page. Lmao
    The first song in my video where we ALL sang the beat of the song was my favorite part. But can you where’s Waldo my car ears in the second part of the video? Lmao

    The drive that went the wrong way (and somehow, the right way)

    After the show, we accidentally drove 45 minutes in the wrong direction. But the extra time in the car, listening to the rain from my bestie’s back seat, was magical. A perfect decompression. Sometimes the nervous system needs soft, quiet, and a little distance before bed.

    All in all, it was the best birthday I’ve ever had—the week leading up to my birthday was magical, even with the weird MC and his chaotic energy. It helped me cleanse energy that I no longer need to carry. I’m grateful to be figuring out what works for me in the world of AuDHD while being fully, wildly obsessed with music.

    What helps me rave with AuDHD (and might help you)

    Quick note: I’m sharing what works for me—not medical advice. Everyone’s brain and sensory profile is unique.

    Before the event

    • Pick comfort-first clothing:
    • Layers you can add/remove (I swear by a cozy, familiar sweater).
    • Soft textures, no scratchy tags.
    • Ear protection:
    • Noise-reducing headphones or filtered earplugs. Headphones double as a social signal—people leave you be and often hype them up.
    • Plan your “reset zones”:
    • Identify exits, seating edges, outside air, and low-light pockets.
    • Buddy system:
    • Agree on check-ins and meet spots. Share a “lost phone” plan and a silly retrieval keyword if needed (mine was “CHICKEN TENDERS!”).
    • Hydration and fuel:
    • Water and a simple snack keep your system from crashing.

    During the event

    • Watch your internal dashboard:
    • Early signs for me: audio mush, jumpy startle response, irritability, narrowing vision.
    • When it spikes:
    1. Step back from the crowd.
    2. Sit or lean; close your eyes.
    3. Breathe slow and deep (try 4-6 breathing).
    4. Temperature shift (fresh air, cold water on wrists/neck).
    5. Add comfort (sweater on, hood up).
    • Choose your spot:
    • Edges of the floor, near fans, or behind speaker lines, not in front.
    • Reduce inputs:
    • Headphones on, cap/hood to narrow visual field, sunglasses if lights are harsh.
    • Let yourself leave a set you’re not vibing with:
    • You’re not “missing out.” You’re curating your experience.

    Aftercare

    • Decompress: this might also mean not just for the night but the following day. As an example, I didn’t visit any friends today. I quite literally gave my system what it wanted. Solitude with my cats, sleep, not very much contact, and not too much internet. Nothing that would keep me seeking dopamine. Just relaxation and rest. Actual rest for my body and brain.
    • Quiet car rides, rain sounds, warm shower, soft lighting.
    • Gentle landing. Be kind to myself for taking rest instead of internally punishing myself about being “lazy”.
    • Tea, cuddly clothes, journaling a few lines about what worked.
    • Track patterns:
    • Which MCs, venues, or sound styles overload you? Which help you thrive?

    Pocket checklist you can screen-cap

    • Layers (favorite sweater/hoodie)… even if you choose not to wear it, it’s a safety blanket that’s acceptable to have with you. It was comforting.
    • Ear protection (headphones or filtered plugs)
    • Hydration + snack
    • Meet spot + buddy check-ins
    • Reset zones mapped (outside air, seating, low-light)
    • Phone security (wrist strap or trusted friend pocket. Christian, you’re the best!)
    • Breath/grounding tool you like
    • Permission to step out and come back when ready

    Final thoughts

    Raving with AuDHD isn’t about forcing yourself to tolerate pain or discomfort —it’s about designing your night so your nervous system can dance, too. For me, that looked like cartoon prints, a neon green Hello Kitty sweater, a few quiet minutes with my eyes closed, and the kindness of a community that sees me.

    If you’ve been afraid of overstimulation, you’re not alone—and you’re not excluded. With the right tools and people, you can find your place on that dance floor. And if all else fails, remember: even a wrong turn can lead to the most peaceful rain soundtrack on the ride home.

    The end of the night, on the drive home. Xoxo
  • Aging Backwards at 41

    Aging Backwards at 41

    When I was 41, I lit the cake like constellations—landed the perfect job, auditioned for my dreams, and trust that what I seek is already mine.


    When I was 40, I learned I am Autistic, loved truly, broke open, and stitched myself with accountability—never broken, only becoming. Found my feet grounding and learned to just be.


    When I was 39, I went to therapy to “fix” myself and instead learned to tend myself like a tidal garden. Unfinished business.


    When I was 38, I called my intensity by its real name: devotion that doesn’t drift.


    When I was 37, my secrecy became sanctuary; privacy turned to a room with soft lamps and open windows.


    When I was 36, my grudges became boundary stones—memory guarding the edges of the heart.


    When I was 35, ADHD arrived with comets and spark—my wiring a star map; my hyperfocus, a forge to rebuild all that I’ve ever known.


    When I was 34, I kept pockets of shiny rocks and impossible questions—child hands, ancient eyes.


    When I was 33, I chose the deep end because depth is where Scorpios breathe.


    When I was 32, I found fitness—alchemy of muscle and will—and became a trainer, learning passions through lifting iron.


    When I was 31, I chose a childless life and found the world itself was my wild godchild.


    When I was 30, I danced through midnight confetti—dirty thirty—learning where the shadows end and I begin.


    When I was 29, I held the mirror steady and promised to meet my own gaze kindly. Backfiring wildly, it wasn’t yet time.


    When I was 28, jealousy turned into a compass: protect what matters, don’t possess it.


    When I was 27, stubbornness learned patience and grew into steadfastness – a rigid spine


    When I was 26, silence became a love language; listening, a vow.


    When I was 25, I learned my stinger, once a tool for self sabotage can also be a needle, mending the seams.


    When I was 24, I swam under multiple moon phases, choosing truth even when it burned through fog.


    When I was 23, I kept confidences like pearls—loyalty heavy and bright in my palm.


    When I was 22, I laughed with my whole body—childlike thunder and unapologetically carries.


    When I was 21, I realized intensity is a hearth if you feed it wood, not gasoline.


    When I was 20, I broke a heart and learned power is a door that must close softly.


    When I was 19, I carried my own name like a blade I was learning to sheath.


    When I was 18, the first serious boyfriend, the first heartbreak—relationship training wheels, phoenix rising in multiple lives, with smoke in my hair.


    When I was 17, I drew lines on sand, learning to keep them when the tide came.


    When I was 16, my diary was a lockbox—secrets as self-respect, not stone walls.


    When I was 15, I mistook fire for direction; later I would call it passion.


    When I was 14, the worst parts of me raised their hands; I taught them jobs.


    When I was 13, I learned how a glance can be a promise and a shield. A warning to come, weapons to dodge.


    When I was 12, loyalty chose me first—I stayed, even when staying meant standing alone.


    When I was 11, I met Sabrina—sat practically in her lap, an ear to her headphones with curiosity, no idea of space, only wonder. The start of a life long friendship.


    When I was 10, I bought my first album—Weezer—and sang like the birds at the first hint of Spring. Loud, proud, unafraid to be seen.


    When I was 9, I kept jars of lightning in my chest and called them plans for the future.


    When I was 8, Christi stood up to a bully and chose me—friendship like a ring I never take off. My oldest friend. So deep, she became my ‘cousin’. Family.


    When I was 7, I built blanket forts, little Scorpio caves with a peephole, my hidden world of safety.


    When I was 6, I collected secrets like marbles and rolled them between my fingers in the dark.


    When I was 5, I laid out my school outfit on a Friday night—found Saturday waiting and cried because I loved learning that much.


    When I was 4, carrying the love of my favorite cat, shadow, in my blanket, we spun together. Nothing else mattered.


    When I was 3, I fell in love with my “chocolate” great-grandmother, bed‑ridden and brave—she called me close, pressed See’s candy into my palm, a sweet farewell.


    When I was 2, my father left; my mother tried to do it all, and I learned the weight and wonder of a woman’s spine.


    When I was 1, I clung like a barnacle to the shore of the person who stayed. Mom.


    When I was 0, I arrived under the Scorpio sign —saltwater heart, bright sting, already loyal to the bone.

    And today, again, I circle the sun: My worst traits polished into secret weapons, the best traits worn openly like a crown—loyal, devoted, a little wild, and still that child with pockets full of stars, thankful of the desires manifested through the night sky.

  • Roses, Hobi, A Birthday-Eve I Won’t Forget 💜

    Roses, Hobi, A Birthday-Eve I Won’t Forget 💜

    ITS DINO THEMED!!! Xoxo

    My training wrapped early today, and the universe decided to sprinkle a little magic on my evening. My date showed up with purple roses—my favorite color—and a box full of delicate cakes from a Korean bakery. The kind of thoughtful combo that feels like a hug after a long week.

    There was even candles!!! Can this be any more cute?

    A One-Day-Only Movie Date

    I had planned to go solo to the theater for Jhope’s one-day-only viewing of Hope on the Stage in Japan, but I was glad to have company who wanted to join me. Sitting there, I had so much fun cheering for Hobi on stage, soaking up the energy, the artistry, the joy of it all. There’s something about watching someone fully alive in their craft that makes you root for yourself a little louder, too. 🎬

    Baepsae…. I was trying to post the one where he does the splits BUT I caught the early part with the hip thrust. lol
    Mic Drop – My first BTS song. Memories.

    Side note: MY FAVORITE BOOK is being turned into a new movie!!!

    Of course on Valentine’s Day.

    Burgers, Banter, and Music Trivia

    Afterward, we headed to Five Guys, where the fries were hot and the conversation flowed. We traded music trivia, laughed, and just let the evening be easy. It felt simple and sweet—no performance, just presence.

    A Keepsake I Didn’t Expect

    When I got home, he surprised me with a full-size print of his favorite poem of mine and asked me to sign it. I paused—honored, seen, a little stunned. No one has ever done that for me before. It was thoughtful in a way that felt deeply personal, like he valued not just my company, but my voice. That meant everything.

    That is sincerely one of the kindest things that anyone has ever done. He told me it’s his favorite. How can I top that one? lol

    Centered, Boundaried, and Honest

    Centering myself has meant giving back the energy I’m given and listening to the vibes from those I naturally connect with. Tonight felt natural, calm. And unfamiliar to my nervous system. Which I enjoy. It also means keeping boundaries with those who watch my life from afar out of curiosity, offering no words of repair. Turn off.

    My words from the past still ring true: if I cross paths with anyone from before, I won’t seek them out or linger. I can be kind and still honor what happened. I won’t sweep anything under the rug in the absence of accountability. That’s not bitterness; that’s clarity. I have sent an IG reel in response to being watched as a form of recognition, because ghosting or ignoring someone flat out is a cruelty I received that I will NEVER do to others but as we all know, IG reels and stories views don’t mean shit. It’s as simple as saying “hey, how’s it going?” with no real emotion or vulnerability. It’s nothing to look into. Indirect contact is simply that. And my boundaries state that I have no words for anyone who shows me anything that looks like a dynamic I’ve been in previous. I’m still kind, But the old Shannon that would have done anything just to be liked is dead. I do not chase, I attract. I do not half love, I whole love intensely when I do, loyalty. I give that to myself first.

    Healing Without the People-Pleasing

    I’ve been focused on healing—not perfection. Living. Enjoying life as myself for once and not what others expect a “GOOD Girl” should be. I’m learning to find humor in my mistakes, to be warm and open about what’s on my mind, and to accept that I’m not always sunshine. but that my moods ebb and flow. I’m done with people-pleasing. And for once, it’s nice to receive care. What a beautiful pre-birthday gift. 🍰

    What’s Next In My life

    We haven’t set up another date yet—my focus is on getting grounded in my new jobs first since I’m juggling two new starts. Today was a welcomed rest before a busy day ahead. I’m especially thankful for the time to center myself before preparing for my HIIT coaching audition training. Lead trainer at a location. That’s exciting—and I’m ready to show up for it. 😌

    The future’s so bright, I gotta wear shades. 😎 I do not know what the future holds and all I do know is from my past experiences, things will only grow out of friendship, truth, taking things slow, and discernment. But again, I’m not in a rush.

    When I’m ready, I will know and I’m working on it. 🥹🙌🏻🥰 but having self love, inner peace and space to do that sure does help.

  • White Candle Black Candle

    White Candle Black Candle

    I set two candles side by side,
    wrapped a cord around each at the same level—
    two matching bands, touching but with a felt tension tied to them—
    I drew three oracle cards and accepted my fate: reminders to continue the transformation,
    to create energy, to let the work move.

    I lit them at the same time, a clean beginning. And began to lean in.

    My inner child, watched patiently, similarly like waiting for baked cookies to finish to completion, but knows they cannot have their closure til after dinner.

    His burned faster—bright, almost jubilant to cut to the chase—
    until the wax collapsed into a quick puddle
    that cupped and protected the cord.
    Mine kept an even breath, steady and upright,
    and when his wick slowed under its own shield,
    my flame caught up.

    The cords caught together in one flash—
    a shared ignition—
    and the smoke rose thick enough
    to set off the smoke detector, a sharp voice
    in the middle of the undoing.

    On my side, the cord melted away from his,
    slid down, and found the plastic cradle
    that held the ritual. It scorched that edge
    a thin ring of ember,
    until it stretched, thinned, and quietly gave out.

    On his side, the cord burned, cutting free from itself. It was caught lower, onto itself,
    snagging the wax, flaring, pausing—
    then flaring again.
    A third try crowned bright, then surrendered.

    My candle stood tall, burning at an equal rate,
    holding its shape with a calm glow.

    His burned furious until it was only a puddle,
    the wick still reaching,
    then finally, it gave up its fight.

    Indirect communication.
    Nothing left of his candle.

    In the hush after, the room felt open. The air became breathable again with the life of an open window.
    The cord’s ritual, a symbolic show of a current dynamic at play.
    Light stayed light.

    What does not repair will fall away.

    My candle can be relit, with opportunities to be burned again, soft and gentle without fear of melting the plastic next time.

  • #Loveworks Factory 

    #Loveworks Factory 

    The day shift whistles open in my chest—  

    steam rises from the stacks of my ribs,  

    gauges brighten along the sternum wall,  

    and the loudspeaker that is my tongue announces: Production of love begins.

    This factory makes love. That’s the work.  

    My lungs are bellows feeding the warm, patient furnace.  

    My heart is the steady boiler, humming red.  

    Veins are conveyor belts carrying small, bright parts:  

    kindness, listening, a soft place to land.

    Raw material comes in crates stamped Morning,  

    and dented boxes labeled Mistakes. We use everything.  

    Especially the rain called tears—perfect coolant for hot work.  

    A cat named Safety naps on the clipboard.  

    Forklifts of forgiveness beep politely in reverse.

    On Line A, we assemble comfort—  

    velvet screws, laughter rivets, patience washers.  

    On Line B, we pour second chances into molds  

    and let them cure beside the open door.  

    Quality checks are kind, not cruel:  

    we keep the thumbprint of ache, an honest dent.  

    Some scars are part of the warranty.

    Packaging matters. We wrap each unit in tissue of breath,  

    bubble-wrap of giggles, labels that read: For You.  

    I stock the loading dock with boxes marked Take What You Need.  

    When hands reach, I place the warmth inside them.  

    When the bins run low, I don’t panic—  

    I turn the valve, and the heart makes more.

    Thieves do slip in—slick as shadows, pockets full of hush.  

    They “steal” a pallet of tenderness and sprint.  

    Good. That’s the plan. We keep the doors propped open.  

    The security policy here is radical: if you can carry it, it’s yours.  

    By the time their footsteps fade,  

    Line A has doubled speed, and we’ve filled the space again.

    Some visitors are too shy to take anything at all.  

    They hover by the exit, reading the signs twice.  

    For them, I set out samples on a low table—  

    a warm cup of You’re Safe, a saucer of Stay.  

    If they still can’t reach, I wheel a cart to their quiet corner,  

    and say, Take two. We always make more.

    At the loading dock they line up:  

    the neighbor with paint on her elbows,  

    the kid with one mitten and a scooter bell,  

    the mail carrier with rain in his cuffs,  

    the friend who jokes too loudly, the friend who barely speaks,  

    the night-shift nurse with moon-sick eyes,  

    the old man from apt 165 and his terrier with important eyebrows.  

    I hand out warmth by the armful—  

    cups for the tired, packets for the hurried,  

    treats for the porch cat who won’t come close.  

    Some take seconds, some only a sample;  

    some tuck it up a sleeve for later.  

    Labels read: For You. Return optional.

    When the bins run low, again, I don’t panic—  

    I thumb the valve, the belts brighten,  

    Line B hums higher, the boiler leans into its song.  

    I ladle a bowl for myself, too—break-room portion with my name—  

    and while the thieves jog off grinning and the shy ones hover,  

    we keep making more, enough for all of us again.

    For myself, there’s Line C: Self-Repair, small batch, hand-finished.  

    I pour a mug of my own gentleness, let it fog my glasses,  

    button my morning like a fresh shirt from the line.  

    Inventory report at close: given away everything;  

    new stock rising in the mixing bowl of dusk.

    Night shift flips the lights—  

    dreams in hard hats, steady hands at the presses.  

    The announcements whispers over the sleeping town:  

    Love is in continuous production. No outages forecasted. 

    Come by any hour. If you take it all,  

    I will make more—  

    for you, for them, for me—  

    the plant inside my ribs working without end,  

    steam soft as a lullaby, doors open. 

  • Finding My Voice: Lessons on Boundaries, Abundance, and Authenticity

    Finding My Voice: Lessons on Boundaries, Abundance, and Authenticity

    Strap in, we are about to do a deep dive into my most intimate thoughts. Not those kind, pervert, But intimate in a way that is deep, personal and goes beyond surface-level topics to share thoughts, emotions, and experiences. Think of it like shrinking a tiny bus down in size to take a trip inside my brain.

    Gotta love a blog with a Magic School Bus reference right?

    Navigating the world as an AuDHD individual can be a rollercoaster ride—one filled with unique challenges. Losing my keys and/or patience has been an example of one of those hardships, especially since I’ve made the choice to go at this part of my journey unmedicated and without other aids like marijuana to help me cope when I was stressed or burned out. It’s one of the most rewarding changes I have made and to be perfectly clear, I have no regrets at all as it’s done better for me than when I was using them consistently.

    There’s also been unexpected lessons, and, occasionally, some humorous moments. Life isn’t all doom and gloom, though when you navigate the world with your depression glasses on, it can feel that way. And grief is a goblin that is sneaky. You don’t even realize it’s there a lot of the time. When we think of grief, we think of people dying. Finality. It’s so much more than that. It’s any loss. Loss of time. Loss of people. Loss of identity. Loss of pets. Loss of goals. I can’t say how thankful I am to not be in that situation anymore and I want to share how I Freddy Mercury’d my way to “break free”.

    Today, I want to share my recent season of self-discovery, focusing on the importance of recognizing my worth and setting boundaries, especially in relationships, work, and personal development.

    Trust Issues with Coaches

    In April, I had decided to hire another coach. My last time doing so. This individual often preached the mantra “trust the process,” yet offered little transparency, which was the biggest red flag I know. It felt as if trust was wielded like a weapon—a way to make me doubt my instincts rather than empower them. He would say things that, frankly, missed the mark and sometimes felt downright ableist. Being direct and clear stating “I want to do the work of a contest prep and not focus on the posing portion” would be met with “what I think you’re saying is…..” and would give some round the way explanation of why I wanted to learn to love posing. Etc.

    As someone who is also autistic, I have found the most helpful phrase I’ve learned recently to help combat this has been “(Please) Don’t hear what I didn’t say.”

    What struck me most was my growing realization of what I truly wanted from my training and how crucial clear communication is in any relationship. I learned to not only voice my expectations but to listen to what my body was telling me. If I felt discomfort or tension during our sessions, I took that as a cue to reevaluate whether this relationship was serving me.

    When I made the choice to fire him, it was a liberating moment—not only for my training but for my self-worth. It reinforced my understanding that I don’t have to settle for less than I deserve. Again, this all circles back to abundance. I learned that quitting something that doesn’t align with me paves the way for opportunities that do.

    It became clear to me that if someone can’t engage in a meaningful dialogue, and is so commited to misunderstanding my CLEAR and direct wants and needs, especially when my money is paying for that, they don’t deserve a spot or any credit in my journey. So, I fired him, only for him to attempt to tell me “I don’t think I’m the coach for you” the next day. This incident taught me about rejection sensitivity, making me realize I had to detach my self-worth from others’ perceptions and their choices.

    With trusting myself, I’ve made more progress in my goals than I was making in his programming. I made the right choice.

    Standing Up for Myself at Work

    Moving on to another significant aspect of my life: my job. I recently faced a tough situation and am no longer at a well-paying caretaking position due to mistreatment. Standing up for myself in the workplace was a revelation. It taught me about projections—when people say something negative about your character that simply isn’t true. In the past, I might have been scared of the outcome or worried about my next steps, but not anymore.

    I learned that projecting confidence in myself is essential. I knew my skill set as a personal trainer and understood my worth as an individual. No job—even a well-paying one—was worth sacrificing my peace of mind. This journey taught me to tune into my body once again. A trait I learned only earlier in the year with awareness and a LOT of practice. The tightness in my chest when dealing with disrespect became a warning sign, nudging me toward a decision that aligned with my true self.

    Being in that place of uncertainty was no longer terrifying. Rather freeing. Instead, I found clarity in knowing that the job market is vast, and I have the skills to thrive. Embracing the concept of abundance means recognizing that I have choices, and I don’t have to wait for validation from others. I’ve learned that trusting myself opens doors, even when some feel shut. It opened doors to opportunities that were truly aligned with who I am, and my passion to help others without taking on the responsibility of taking physical care of others, often before myself directly. Sometimes we must follow the trail of discomfort to find true fulfillment. And training has always been what lights me up. And makes a difference in my world as a person and the world of others.

    “Coffee” Dates and Misunderstood Intentions

    Let’s end things with a scene that many can relate to: a guy, seemingly kind, casually asks me to grab a coffee after a few scattered messages months apart. At first glance, it feels innocent—a lovely opportunity to connect over a warm cup. But let’s get real. Often, these invitations come packaged with unspoken assumptions. It’s like they believe that this chat could lead somewhere physical, like my apartment so “we can be alone for a few” as if that’s the only direction a connection can go. Immediate turn off. And I called it out, without hesitation.

    Platonic friendship requests and the nature of men I’m not attracted to.

    Never will I be attracted to someone who comes on thick who doesn’t even have a name saved in my phone but is still rather a number because I’m unsure of your motives. Telling sign.

    My Body is sacred. My love when offered is rare but special. And if it’s not intended to be a creation of partnership, kindly get the fuck out of my face. 😉

    Scorpios truly are deeper than we seem. LEVELS and levels deeper. If I don’t reply to your text, you are probably blocked in all honesty from personal contact and am keeping a social media presence to you only. Doesn’t mean I hate you. Not at all. It means I am creating distance to what you are seeking that is vastly different from my wants and needs, or trust needs to be re-established. No games, only facts spoken.

    These interactions have in the past taken a toll on my energy and emotional state. I’ve known what it has meant to think I’ve loved people many times in the past vs the real love Ive felt: to try my hardest, to grow, and keep understanding them, once. Even if it meant they were incapable of loving me back. That love will always be there. I simply love me more now. A love I admit I thought was there when I was learning to love them but discovered after was misguided. But also healed And now true. And because of that, I am thankful too.

    Some folks never learn to truly love themselves. So I’m thankful it came when I needed it the most.

    I learned that the act of setting boundaries isn’t just about keeping someone at arm’s length; it’s about recognizing what I’m comfortable with and believing in my worth. Listening to my body’s cues has been essential in navigating these situations. If I feel a knot in my stomach or tension creeping up my neck, that’s my intuition signaling me. It’s a reminder that I deserve connections that are genuine, where respect and mutual interest are at the forefront.

    This realization has taught me to establish clearer boundaries. If someone I meet cannot respect my stance or misunderstands my openness, it’s not my fault. It’s about recognizing my value and what I want from each interaction. Reminder that Scorpios are KNOWN for being direct when they want a person and are sure about you. This man was wishful, lustful with nothing more to offer than a “dick in a box” so to speak, And not my type. I prefer someone who wants to touch my mind before they ever think about touching my body. And I’m not in a rush.

    And in return, I’ve been graced with kind friends who value forming true platonic friendships with no expectations. And now being complimented as “sexy” for my heart and character rather than what they’re imaging under my dress gets my attention.

    The Journey to Self-Love and Acceptance

    Through these experiences, I learned to re-establish trust in my judgment and my own feelings. Initially, I would spiral into confusion, worrying about what others thought of me. However, as I began to cultivate self-compassion, I found that friendships and alone time became lifelines. Therapy, rather than the source of anxiety, became a space for growth and understanding. One that I’ve been able to graduate from, and handle life on my own where they are a phone call away if I need them. And we can check in every few months if needed to ensure I’m still navigating my path healthily in the right direction.

    Instead of aiming for perfection, I learned that making mistakes is part of life. Embracing imperfection allowed me to release the fear of rejection and enabled me to focus on authentic connections, both with myself and others. The road to self-love is not smooth, but every twist and turn is a step forward.

    I’m rather proud of my ability to do one thing I had never been able to do up until this point. Stay emotionally regulated. I may get emotional, but I now realize tears for me are an emotional pressure valve that offers me a release and no longer feel shame for such emotions. Scheduling rage time is also insanely helpful and timers are very much needed in conflict with others. And often now, I cry because I’m happy and cannot hold in my joy.

    These experiences have shaped me significantly. I now understand that kindness should come with respect for boundaries, my own and others. I’ve learned to appreciate the value of self-worth, healing, and the beauty of pursuing abundance.

    To anyone on a similar journey, remember: you are worthy of love, respect, and authenticity. Don’t settle for anything less. Rather than fear rejection, let it guide your growth. Life is too short to leak your energy into relationships or jobs that don’t serve you.

    So What’s Next?

    I’m making more true connections in the people I meet, organically, without forcing anything. The friendships I’ve made have been ones I am vastly proud of as well as my ability to walk away from other that were no longer healthy like my coach, my previous job, or made me or others question if they were appropriate.

    If a compelling connection arises, I’m open to it—communication is key! However, I’ve learned an invaluable lesson: I will not wait for shut doors that others close. Instead, I focus on the wonderful choices available to me. If a door has been shut, it’s not my place to reopen it but rather their job to knock and come with a gift of honest communication if they have want to join my party.

    I can only choose myself first.

    In this job hunt, I now understand that having options is a blessing. And I was able to choose what aligns with my needs, as well as reaching for things I thought could be out of reach. I can truly celebrate the abundance of possibilities that life offers. This journey has led me to a powerful realization: I can set boundaries and still be compassionate. Saying no doesn’t make me a “bitch” as I always internally told myself. I can embrace abundance while expecting transparency and respect in my relationships.

    In reflecting on all of this, I’m stronger and more self-aware than ever. It’s a continuous journey, but I don’t doubt my ability to navigate it with courage and authenticity. My intuition guides me, my body speaks to me, and I listen. I’m ready to walk through doors that lead to genuine connections and opportunities aligned with my true self.

    All in all, I’ve been productive but the best lesson in all of it is to also take rest breaks, create, eat outside of my comfort food sometimes and pull an oracle card.