In the last volume, I talked about having a "wardrobe" of masks, costumes I’ve worn since the day I was born to fit into the rooms I was in. But lately, I’ve been reflecting on what those masks are actually made of. When I got my ADHD diagnosis, I asked myself: Who am I without the mask? The truth is, I didn’t know.  I’ve spent so long in character that it doesn't feel like fabric anymore. It feels like concrete. It’s heavy, it’s rigid, and it’s been set for so long that I’v

This week, I want to talk about the different masks in my masking wardrobe, why I wear them, and the invisible cost of keeping them on.

I’ve spent most of my life trying to shave off my edges to fit into the round holes of "normal" adulthood and corporate expectations. If you’ve ever felt like you’re working twice as hard just to perform "fine," this newsletter is for you. To kick things off, I want to share the story of how I found out I wasn't "broken" or "lazy", I was just neurodivergent.