Who am I...
Hi, I'm Jane...
I am a 46-year-old, bilingual, working, late-diagnosed (2e) autistic woman with ADHD. Which is a nice, tidy sentence for a life that was spent mostly as an unanswered question.
I live my life deeply committed to two simple rules:
1 – Treat others the way you’d want to be treated
2 – Try to leave the world a little better than you found it.
That’s the whole doctrine. Everything else flows from those two points.
The biggest thing this life has taught me is this: no one truly knows another person’s lived experience. We see behavior, outcomes, snippets—but never the full context, the internal struggle, the invisible effort. Keeping that in mind has made me gentler. And sharper. Both are useful.
Humor is my native language. It’s my essential survival tool—partly because it connects, partly because it disarms, and if all else fails, at least I’ll chuckle to myself. Because “nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition”—and nobody makes it out of this life alive—so we might as well laugh while we’re here.
Why this site exists...
You could say it’s the love child of accumulated frustration and a need for clarity.
Frustration with the reactions I get when I disclose that I’m autistic and/or neurodivergent.
Frustration with how everyone knows the word autism, yet so few people can actually explain what it means.
Frustration with the misinformation, myths, stereotypes, and well-intentioned—but still harmful—assumptions that continue to circulate freely.
This place also functions as a kind of living business card. A space I can point people to when disclosure is met with confusion, awkward comments, or endless questions—so I don’t have to explain my existence from scratch every time.
The real turning point—the moment this became more than an idea—came after I was invited to speak at a support group for parents of autistic children.
I watched parents connect dots they hadn’t seen before.
I heard relief in their voices as they realized that some struggles weren’t defiance or laziness—but wiring.
I saw hope in their eyes for their children’s futures.
And I witnessed the quiet heartbreak when they understood that some things they did out of love were, unintentionally, causing harm.
They left with more understanding and compassion for their children.
I left with a sense of purpose I hadn’t expected to ever find.
If sharing what I’ve learned and lived through can make life easier for even one child—or help one parent understand, or one adult feel less broken—then I can leave this world content.
This is that effort. Messy, honest, hopefully funny, fact-based, occasionally sarcastic or awkward, and very human.
Welcome...
“I don’t need to be right. I just need things to make sense... (make it make sense!)”
