Diverge Community for Neurodivergent Adults

10/09/2026

Some people have their favorite nightly TV shows. I have Geo’s Spooky Lakes and Haunted Hydrology.

There’s something about finding a hyperfixation and immediately making it part of your daily routine (every year for the past 5 years). The combination of spooky stories, random facts, and learning about haunted bodies of water? Instant dopamine.

Now excuse me while I patiently wait for tonight’s haunted hydrology lesson.

10/07/2026

Pumpkin carving is all fun and games until it's time to scoop out the guts and pick the perfect face.

For some neurodivergent individuals, the slimy, squishy texture is a sensory dream. For others, it's an immediate NOPE (I'm in the nope).

As occupational therapists, we know that sensory experiences aren't one size fits all. What feels satisfying and regulating to one person might feel completely overwhelming to another.

And that's okay! Whether you're elbow deep in pumpkin guts, using a spoon, wearing gloves, or supervising from a safe distance, there's no wrong way to participate in a family tradition.

Because making memories shouldn't require pushing past your sensory boundaries.

10/06/2026

I get “peopled out” pretty much every day.

Not because I don’t like people. Not because I don’t enjoy my job. But because interacting with people all day takes energy, reading social cues, communicating, problem-solving, transitioning between conversations, managing sensory input, and constantly responding to what’s happening around me.

By the end of the workday, my nervous system has WORKED.

That’s why I use regulation tools throughout my day, not just when I’m already overwhelmed. Sensory tools, movement, predictable routines, quiet moments, comfort items, music, and little regulation breaks help me maintain my cool instead of using every ounce of energy I have just getting through work.

Because regulation isn’t only about surviving the hard parts of the day.

It’s also about saving enough of myself for the things I actually WANT to do afterward.

I want energy for my family. My hobbies. My friends. My weird little interests. The things that make me feel like me.

Sometimes supporting a neurodivergent nervous system means intentionally building regulation into the day so work doesn’t get 100% of you and leave nothing for the rest of your life.

10/05/2026

This is honestly one of those moments that feels a little… weird.

Seeing my name, my case studies, and my real-life experiences working with neurodivergent adults in an international occupational therapy handbook is something I’m still trying to wrap my brain around.

The work I’ve been doing every day, listening to neurodivergent adults, questioning traditional approaches, adapting environments instead of trying to “fix” people, recognizing nervous system needs, and learning alongside the people I support is now part of a resource being used to help shape neurodiversity-affirming occupational therapy practice.

And I am completely overwhelmed with joy.

Because these aren’t just theoretical examples I wrote about from behind a desk. They came from actual practice. From the conversations, experiences, barriers, successes, mistakes, adaptations, and lessons that have shaped how I practice OT with neurodivergent adults.

There is something incredibly surreal about realizing that the work we’re doing in our little corner of the OT world is now represented in an international handbook.

Neurodivergent adults deserve occupational therapy that sees them as whole person, not problems to correct.

And somehow, I get to be a tiny part of helping move our profession in that direction.

Still processing this one. In the best possible way.

10/05/2026

Telling a neurodivergent person to “calm down” assumes regulation is something we can simply think our way into.

And for many of us, it isn’t.

This can also be why traditional talk therapy approaches don’t work by themselves for everyone. Someone may already KNOW they’re safe. They may understand their triggers, recognize their thought patterns, and be able to explain exactly what they “should” do.

But knowing something cognitively doesn’t automatically mean the nervous system feels regulated enough to do it.

That’s why we may need to work from the environment and body too.

Maybe that means keeping a sensory kit nearby, putting reminder baskets where things naturally get dropped, using headphones before sensory overload happens, building movement into a routine, creating visual supports, reducing demands, or changing the environment instead of repeatedly asking the person to adapt to it.

These aren’t failures to cope. They’re accommodations and regulation strategies.

Talk therapy can be incredibly valuable, especially when it is adapted to the individual. But sometimes we also need approaches that ask:

What does this nervous system need?
What in this environment is increasing the demand?
What can we add, remove, or change to make regulation more accessible?

Because sometimes you already understand *why* you’re overwhelmed.

You don’t need someone to tell you to calm down.

You need tools, routines, environments, and supports that help your nervous system get there.

10/01/2026

09/30/2026

Very excited to dive into 'The ADHD Mom' by Anita Robertson, LCSW
As an ADHD mom AND an OT who works with neurodivergent adults, I’m always interested in resources that actually acknowledge what motherhood can look like when your own brain has executive functioning, sensory, and regulation needs too.

Can’t wait to read, reflect, and probably feel a little too seen.

Also, please ignore the dog hair covered shirt. I have dogs. I wore black. We all knew how this was going to end.

09/29/2026

I got hugged at a wedding by someone I genuinely did not expect to ever hug again.

And I wasn’t prepared. This person had made comments about how much I work and, whether intentional or not, I experienced those comments as judgment about my motherhood.

“Just work less” sounds simple from the outside.

But my life (and honestly, most neurodivergent lives) doesn’t fit neatly into simple solutions, or simply can't.

I own Diverge. I care deeply about what we’re building and the neurodivergent community we serve. I’m also trying to make financially responsible decisions for my family while navigating insurance, running a business, being a mom, and managing my own neurodivergent brain.

My partner already works 40 hours a week and does well in his career. I happen to make more hourly, so sometimes it financially makes more sense for me to work additional hours rather than automatically expecting him to work more simply because he’s the dad.

At the time these comments were made, I had actually changed roles just three weeks earlier specifically to reduce my workload. I was also experiencing significant loss within my family.

So I reacted strongly.

I can genuinely say that I’m sorry for how harsh my delivery was while still believing in what I was trying to communicate.

But there was never an apology or acknowledgment from the other side, I don’t expect one.

I had accepted that this was simply someone I no longer wanted a relationship with.

Which is why being unexpectedly hugged by them felt so uncomfortable.

It wasn't about holding a grudge.

It was that my brain had already categorized this person as someone I no longer felt emotionally safe or connected with, and suddenly they were physically touching me as though none of it had happened.

My body had a visceral reaction before I even had time to process it.

And I think there’s an important reminder in that, especially for neurodivergent people:

A hug is not automatically comforting.

Physical affection doesn’t automatically mean reconciliation.

You can recognize your own mistakes in a conflict without reopening a relationship.

Sometimes a boundary isn't anger, it's simply: I don't want this.