Hey there, friend,

Today, I found a really good analogy online for what it’s like trying to communicate while neurodivergent.

Click here to watch the video

The video is captioned, but for those who can’t read videos, the analogy goes like this:

Imagine you’re crash-landing a plane.

You have no idea how to do that, right?

Well, air traffic control (ATC) is going to talk you down.

Except ATC doesn’t know what your control panel looks like—they only know the steps.

So while they’re asking you, “What’s your altitude?” you’re looking at all the controls, completely confused and overwhelmed.

Sound much like communicating with stubbornly neurotypical people?

That’s why I like this analogy so much.

That being said, I do have some critiques about this video as well.

Well, really just one critique: I dislike “neurodivergent” being equated with just autism + ADHD.

I first learned this from @candycourn and I haven’t had to relearn it since hearing it.

Yes, I am AuDHD, and that comes with struggles.

But I am also chronically depressed and anxious, as well as exposed to BPD (borderline and bipolar), DID, OCD, and likely many other undiagnosed things within my family.

This is not a flex. These experiences mostly come with trauma to varying degrees, though later on in life, my exposure has been much more (intentionally) positive.

Friends dealing with different ability levels, i.e. “functionality” for capitalism’s sake, has taught me a lot while healing my own understanding and self-awareness :)

I’m grateful for all my experiences nonetheless, because they all brought me here, with you, sharing my special interests, writing and neurodivergent advocacy.

The future is exciting for both of us, my friend.

We are in an era (of neurodivergent advocacy) the world has never seen before!

x, Atlas

Hey there, friend,

Guess who almost forgot to write a newsletter today???

But you know what? That’s okay, because that’s just the reality of living with ADHD.

I have spent many years actively unlearning the internalized ableism given to me by my parents, friends, teachers, and society at large, so that I can come to this understanding as quickly as possible these days: I am going to forget things sometimes, and I cannot control that.

The more we practice self-affirming language with ourselves, the better we can be about advocating for ourselves (and others!!) out loud, too.

It really all starts within.

It starts with the expectations you set for yourself.

It starts with what you’re willing to accept about yourself (and not change).

It starts with how you treat yourself when you inevitably fuck up and need to apologize.

The faster we are to accept ourselves for who we are, the more likely others will accept us, too. And the more likely we are to accept others, but I doubt that’s ever been a problem for you :)

So today, I want you to choose one of the following phrases and say it out loud, right now:

1. I respect my neurodiverse needs in every aspect of my life.

2. I offer unique insights in creative fields.

3. I trust my brain to think beyond limitations.

4. I thrive in environments that celebrate my uniqueness.

5. I embrace the peace that comes with honoring my neurodiverse needs.

6. I learn in my own special way.

7. I adopt routines that fit my strengths.

I know it seems silly to listen to some internet stranger, but positive affirmations actually do work, whether you believe them at first or not.

And I’m not asking you to start saying this every day or anything (unless you want to!), just practice once out loud right now, and let me know if you felt anything come up.

Capiche?

x, Atlas

Hey there, friend,

Not everybody accepts their neurodivergence, and that’s okay.

I know, bold statement, but stay with me.

There are levels to everything. Every single thing you can think of.

There are levels to animals, sodas, friends, books, materials, thought patterns, planets, people—everything.

Now, these levels are not objective, i.e. my levels are not the same as your levels.

But the levels still exist; they’re still there inside every person’s mind, all the time, making decisions and creating judgments about everything around us.

And yes, there are levels to even levels itself, but I’m not gonna go there.

Plenty of people are not at the level of acceptance to see their neurodivergence as something beautiful, and that’s okay.

First of all, it’s okay because what the fuck can you even do about someone else’s acceptance?

It’s out of your control.

Second of all, it’s okay because you were once there, too.

Don’t even try to deny it.

You weren’t popped out of another human being knowing you were neurodivergent, so how could you be born knowing and accepting it?

“With good, direct parents,” you might think, but our level of medical knowledge on neurodivergence hasn’t existed for very long—just about 30 years.

Then, you have to consider how long it takes for medical knowledge to reach mass, and, well, that leaves like one generation of public knowledge to accrue.

Finally, and most obviously, is that social media hasn’t been extremely shareable until about 2010 or so, making it even less likely to circulate.

Some people are simply not ready to accept they’re different (and that being different isn’t a bad thing), and that’s okay.

x, Atlas

P.S. I’m always so scared of signing as my alter-ego, “Altas.”

Hey there, friend,

Yesterday, we talked a bit about setting better boundaries and what that looks like.

I actually really enjoyed writing that (I hit exactly 500 words yesterday, which is my daily limit for these newsletters), so I figured we could dig a little deeper today—specifically into who is not safe to set boundaries with.

Look: The reality is is that most people aren’t safe to set boundaries with.

There’s too many reasons to list why that is—it’s mostly systemic—but here are a few common ones:

• you’re strangers

• they don’t care about you (perhaps because you’re strangers or new friends)

• they don’t respect you (perhaps because of your skin or gender)

• you haven’t set boundaries with them in the past (so they got used to mistreating you)

• they have unhealed shame trauma (from their parents/caregivers)

There’s a lot of variety there, but really what it comes down to is they don’t give a shit about you. Period.

And that might hurt to hear, but that’s why setting boundaries is so important.

If you’re anything like me, you can’t read people for shit. You can’t see their true intentions, you can’t detect lies, and you certainly forget that people are even capable of lying (because you aren’t).

This… is a huge struggle.

But now that I’ve been setting boundaries more often… the struggle happens less.

That’s because someone’s reaction to your boundaries says a lot about how they feel about you.

When somebody is safe to set boundaries with, they will do one of two things:

1. Accept and respect your boundaries, and change their behavior accordingly.

2. Reject and respect your boundaries, and change the relationship accordingly (break up, take a break, etc.).

When someone is not safe to set boundaries with, they will do one of many things:

1. Deny they did what you’re setting a boundary around.

2. Deflect and say that you do that, too.

3. Get angry and call you the problem, not them.

4. Cry and try to make themselves the victim to your “harsh” words. (They’re not harsh.)

Etc. etc.

See the difference?

Somebody who respects your boundaries respects you.

Somebody who doesn’t… well, doesn’t respect you.

So setting boundaries—as early and as often as possible—is a fantastic way to see who really respects you.

And, of course, respect is the basis of all true friendships, partnerships, and relationships in general.

Does that make sense?

x, Atlas

Hey there, friend,

I’ve been consuming more parenting content recently.

Not because I’m a parent or anything, mind you, but because my partner put it in my head, and… y’know… **for the first time in my life, I don’t think I’d actually *mind* being a parent.**

NOT THAT I WANT TO GO THAT ROUTE ANY TIME SOON!

It just surprises me that I’m even thinking about it at *all.*

And the funny thing is only one thing changed:

**I set boundaries.**

Ready to hear them?

Not yet—I’ll share them at the bottom of this page ↓

So yeah, I set boundaries.

Not updated boundaries. Not better boundaries. ***I set boundaries at all.***

Before 26 years of age, I wouldn’t have even considered kids hypothetically.

But when I seriously sat down to think about it, I realized I *could* be parent with some rules attached.

Now, whenever I talk about boundaries, I always feel the need to air this reminder: **Boundaries do not dictate what *others* do, they dictate what *you* will do should certain situations arise.**

It’s like the difference between saying “You hurt my feelings,” vs “My feelings are hurt.”

One is created defensively, as if the other person is dangerous.

The other is create vulnerably, as if the other person is safe.

**Most people you need to set boundaries with will not be safe.**

If your goal is to communicate more vulnerably, then here’s a quick script for setting better boundaries:

> *“I feel [emotion] when you [behavior]. In the future, if you [behavior], I will [your behavior/relationship change].”*

>

**Your behavior change could look like:**

- ending the conversation

- taking a 30-minute break

- leave the dinner/breakfast/party

**Your relationship change could look like:**

- stop hanging out with them

- break up with them

- not bring the kids over anymore

Remember: **The goal is to focus on *your actions*, not *their* *intentions*.**

Now, for the juicy bit:

# My Parenting Boundaries

With all that said, assume my behavior change is “or I will not have kids with you.”

1. I will not work during or after my pregnancy.

2. You will not work during the first year of each kid’s life.

3. I will drive an SUV during and after my pregnancy (preferably before).

4. You will make enough income to support *all* of us comfortably (“comfortably” is subjective, but I have my own definition).

When some people hear these, they think I’m crazy… *and that’s kinda the point.*

I don’t care if I don’t have kids.

I’m just not *opposed* to it if we’re comfortable, I can focus 100% on parenting, and naturally, we’re as safe as can be.

My partner and I still have plenty of time to explore our options—in more than one way.

There’s no rush here, obviously.

And there’s no rush for you to set boundaries right now, by the way.

**Learning these things about yourself take time, trial, and error.**

You’ve come a long way already, though.

x, Atlas