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We welcome stories, essays, poems, and thoughts that uplift, inform, or reflect quiet strength—especially from neurodivergent voices. No hate speech or harmful content is allowed. Submissions may be lightly edited before publishing.

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The Birthday Ambush

The Birthday Ambush Yesterday, when I first got to work at O’Reilly’s, I could tell something was up. Miranda and John were laughing, giggling, and cutting up. I watched them like a hawk, not taking my eyes off of them. They both tried to scare me—sneaking up behind me and shouting “Happy Birthday!” really loud, with Miranda filming it. I still jumped—loud noises startle me—but I was ready. Even in that chaotic moment, I felt safe, playful, and connected. Playful bonding Playful interactions with people I trust can be both exhilarating and grounding. I don’t have to suppress my startle response to enjoy connection. Embracing joy safely Humor, playful banter, and safe surprises can help release stress and strengthen relationships. I can lean into these moments as part of my self-regulation.
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Working with Miranda, teamwork and autism support

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Working with Miranda Friendship at work, autism awareness, and small moments that keep me steady. I work with my friend Miranda. We move through busy days together, one small moment at a time. Some days I am the helper. Some days she is. Most days we trade places without saying a word. That is what trust looks like for me at work. How we team up Miranda knows my patterns. When the store gets loud, she checks on me. When I get lost in a task, she gives me a simple cue. Sometimes it is a soft beep sound to help me shift attention. Sometimes it is a gentle look that says breathe. I do the same for her in my way. I grab parts, I keep things moving, I crack a joke when we both need a reset. When change hits hard Updates to the system can throw me off. My breath gets shallow. My body feels tight. When that happens, Miranda crouches so we are eye to eye and says breathe with me. One bre...
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The Honda Mix-Up

The Honda Mix-Up Today at O’Reilly I managed to stick my foot in my mouth without even meaning to. A customer pulled into the parking lot driving a Honda. Miranda asked if I wanted to restock or deal with them, and I—without thinking—said, “Yeah, I don’t like Hondas anyway.” Then she looked at me and reminded me… her car is a Honda. Oops. I scrambled, tried to backtrack with, “Well, I like yours,” but then of course she pointed out, “But mine’s a Honda.” At that point I was stuck in a loop, so I gave up and went to put things on the shelf. When I came back, I thought I was in the clear. She was laughing, so I figured the moment passed. Nope. She snuck up on me while I was on the phone and scared the daylights out of me. I nearly lost my ability to speak, caught between laughing and crying. P.S. Miranda, if you’re reading this—I officially declare for the record: your Honda is cool, and I’m really, really sorry for the mix-up. Please don’t sneak up on me again whil...
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Banana Pudding Tears: Honoring Papa’s Memory

Today, I’m sharing a deeply personal moment of grief and memory. It’s about Papa, his favorite dessert, and how I experienced a wave of emotions I wasn’t ready for. This is written from my autistic perspective, and I hope it gives insight into the ways love, loss, and support show up in my life. Note for neurotypical readers: This post shares the deep sensory and emotional experience of an autistic person remembering a loved one. The intensity may be unfamiliar if you haven’t experienced grief in this way. Another Bite, Another Wave Jennifer gave me this banana pudding at my therapy session today. I only managed four bites before I started crying. Why does this taste so much like him? Miranda had to get my spoon and help me calm down while I sat there, trying to eat. She stayed by my side, quietly supporting me, helping me breathe through the overwhelming mix of grief and memory. Each bite felt heavier than the last, yet somehow comforting...
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My Nephew Is Moving Out and It Has Me Thinking

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My Nephew Is Moving Out, and It Has Me Thinking Family reflections I can not have kids for medical reasons that I am not ready to share. Even if I could, I do not know that I would bring a child into this world right now. My health, my mental health, and my autistic challenges are real. It would not feel fair to them. I help raise my nephew and two nieces in our house with my mom and my grandma. I never planned this role, yet here I am. Their dad is gone. Their mom lives across town. I do what I can. I love them more than they know. Camren is moving out. In my mind he is still five, sprinting through leaves in the yard, both of us laughing while Mom shouts from the porch. Now he is taller than me. He works. He is finding his way. I am proud of him. If he leaves with one truth, let it be this. He will always have a home here. I do not understand how anyone can make home expire at eighteen. Love does not ...
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Ashes in the River & Bloodline: Latest Writing Update + Sneak Peek

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📚 Writing Update: Big Things Coming! Hey everyone, I wanted to take a moment to share some exciting updates about my writing journey. A lot has been happening behind the scenes, and I’m really looking forward to letting you all in on it. First, Ashes in the River has grown—what started as a 12-chapter plan is now shaping up to be 13 chapters . This psychological horror novel keeps surprising me as I write, and I want to make sure the story is told the way it deserves to be. My goal is to have it finished by spring, with a summer release next year . I can’t wait for you to dive into this story—it’s dark, emotional, and full of twists that even caught me off guard. On top of that, I’m still expanding Bloodline , which started as a short story but is now being developed into a full novella . The world and characters are really opening up, and it feels like the story is finally reaching its true depth. I’ve also been working on special edition details—lik...
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🦕 Why I Love Both Dark Dramas and Dino Nuggets

 Some people think it’s weird that I can go from watching Department Q or House to curling up with cartoons made for little kids. Or that I’ll happily read about revolutions and lost empires… then turn around and eat Dino-shaped chicken nuggets for dinner. But here’s the thing: it’s not childish. It’s balance. Being autistic means the world often feels like it’s turned up to eleven. Deep dramas and history books feed the part of me that loves to explore complexity, darkness, and the messy truths about humanity. They challenge my mind and let me see the world through different lenses.  But after a day of sensory overload, anxiety spikes, or just plain life stress? That same mind needs a softer landing. Cartoons are gentle, predictable, and safe. Dino nuggets feel comforting, silly, and familiar. They aren’t about avoiding adulthood — they’re about recovering enough to keep being an adult tomorrow. Liking these things doesn’t erase the fact that I’m also into heavier, “grown-up”...
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Xander and the Soda Can of Doom

Xander and the Soda Can of Doom Picture it: O’Reilly’s, August 23, 2025, Saturday, 2:35pm. Xander walks up holding a can of Dr. Pepper and asks if I had shaken it. I said no. Then he asked John if I had. Like he didn’t believe me. How could he doubt me? I would never. So I said, “Let me see it.” He hands me the can, and I shake it like the gremlin I am, then hand it back and walk away giggling. Moral of the story: Don’t mess with the autism, or you’ll get the gremlin. – Signed, Your Resident Work Gremlin
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Why I No Longer Go to Church, Losing Faith in What Never Reflected Jesus

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Why I No Longer Go to Church, Losing Faith in What Never Reflected Jesus A personal reflection from my autistic point of view ✢ The reason I no longer go to church is simple. Most churches do not represent what Jesus stood for. I am not sure they ever did. The message was meant to be love, care, and mercy. What I felt was judgment, noise, and control. I tried to find God in rows of pews. Instead I found rules that asked me to hide who I am. I am autistic. My senses take in everything. Lights, microphones, side talk, perfume, a baby crying, shoes on tile, all of it stacks up. My body starts buzzing and my chest tightens. People say smile. People say shake hands. People say talk to your neighbor. It feels like a script I did not write. If I miss a cue, the looks tell me I missed it. They say come as you are. What they mean is come if you can blend in. Come if you can sit sti...
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The Sound of Silence: Finding Friends Who Truly Understand Autism, Anxiety & Depression

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The Sound of Silence: Finding Friends Who Get It There have been so many times where I’ve been in a room full of people and still felt completely alone. It’s like everyone else is on the same frequency, and I’m just stuck on static. The world feels loud—too many voices, too many expectations, too much pressure to “fit in.” And I try. I mask. I laugh when I don’t feel like it, I force myself into small talk even though it drains me, and I walk away with nothing left in the tank. That’s the hard part about living with autism, depression, and anxiety—connection doesn’t come easy. It’s not that I don’t want it, it’s just that it costs me something. After some interactions, I go home feeling like I’ve run a marathon with no medal at the end. But then there are the people who make it different. The ones who let me sit in silence without making it awkward. The ones who don’t demand I be “on” all the time. For me, that’s Miranda and John. With Miranda, ...
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