Life in Full Spectrum: Adventures in Creative Living

Feeding a family is hard. Feeding a neurodivergent family of six? That’s a full-time job, a puzzle, a sensory experiment, and a balancing act wrapped into one—and I’m the ringmaster, juggling food aversions, texture issues, allergies, and wildly different taste preferences while trying to stay on a budget. It’s exhausting. Some of us hate mixed textures. Some need foods separated. One has a strong aversion to certain smells. Another can’t handle the taste of anything too strong, too spicy, too “weird.” Someone’s allergic to tree nuts. Someone else  swears  they’ll throw up if they even look at a mushroom. One prefers simple finger foods. Another loves crunch and spice. And me? I’m just trying to eat low-carb without spiraling. Every month, I sit down with the best of intentions to plan meals for the upcoming month. I start with a budget that doesn’t stretch nearly far enough. Then I factor in: • What everyone will  actually  eat • What we already have • W...

There are days when I swear I’m doing life all wrong—days when I dig through my bag, my pockets, the counter, the car, and the  entire universe  just trying to find my keys. My ID? Who knows where that is. A form I was supposed to fill out? Probably buried under the avalanche of “important papers” I swore I would organize. I see people in the world who seem to have it together. Their keys live in a designated spot. Their IDs are tucked neatly into their wallets. They remember their appointments, they renew their licenses on time, they keep track of  everything  like it’s second nature. Meanwhile, I’m standing in the checkout line, realizing I have no idea where my debit card is—again. I’ve spent my whole life feeling like a toddler lost in the big people’s world. A world where deadlines exist, where important documents must be kept safe, where cars need oil changes, and health insurance has open enrollment periods. But my brain? My brain does not care. It refuses to ...

  Sometimes I feel like keeping my peace takes more effort than anything else I do in a day. It’s not because I don’t want peace—I crave it. But when someone comes along armed with lies and manipulation, my autistic brain kicks into high gear. Dealing with dishonesty feels personal. It digs under my skin because I thrive on truth and clarity. I can spend hours replaying their words, trying to make sense of what they said and why. My mind doesn’t let things slide easily, and sometimes, I wish it did. The truth is, I don’t always handle these situations well. My emotions can get the better of me. It’s like my brain short-circuits, trying to find logic in something illogical, and before I know it, I’m caught in a loop of frustration. But I’m learning to take a breath (and say a prayer) before I respond—or not respond at all. I’m realizing I don’t have to engage with every lie or accusation thrown my way. It’s not my job to prove anyone wrong, even when it feels like I should. That doe...

  Let’s bridge the gap I get so scared of sharing my beliefs and showing who I am and who I support and what I support because I’m in the middle: I am a God-believing woman that supports gay rights and trans rights and I don’t believe in condemnation and violence—whether it’s verbal or physical. People have been voted off my island for less. 😉  It is my intention to love all, not just some. What I Believe I’ve been reflecting a lot on where I stand on certain issues, and I want to share my thoughts—not to argue or convince anyone, but to be open about who I am and what I believe. I believe in human rights—across the board. Gay rights, trans rights, women’s rights—they’re all just human rights. Every person, regardless of gender, race, religion, sexuality, age, or body type, deserves to live a life of freedom, safety, and dignity. Every year, I take my daughter to the Pride Parade in Athens, and we cheer right along with the people walking by, celebrating all of our right to l...