To the one who’s just now finding the words…

In light of the ongoing conversations surrounding neurodivergence and autism, I want to share a reflection that centers on compassion, understanding, and self-acceptance. This letter is written from a place of personal experience and deep respect for those navigating these complex journeys. It is my belief that we must acknowledge the validity of neurodivergent experiences, especially in light of the current dialogue. We all deserve to be seen, valued, and understood for who we truly are.

Dear one,

If you're considering a late diagnosis—maybe for ADHD, autism, or another form of neurodivergence—I want to offer you something gentle, grounded, and true.

Before I ever shared thoughts like this publicly, I processed them in quiet spaces—with my neurodivergent community, with my therapist, with myself. I don’t write this lightly. I write it from the middle of the journey, after wrestling with shame, clarity, identity, and all the complexity that comes with finally being seen.

Because here’s something people don’t always talk about:

A diagnosis—even when it’s accurate—can feel lonely. It can stir up a thousand questions:

• Who am I, really?

• Where do I belong now?

• What parts of me are mine—and what parts were built to survive?

That’s the part no one prepares you for. Yes, a diagnosis can bring relief. But it can also make the ground beneath your feet feel unfamiliar.

I remember getting mine.

I remember the range of emotions:

Relief.

Grief.

Confusion.

Anger.

Softness.

All at once.

I invite you to take a moment, as I have done many times. Allow yourself to sit with the complexity of it all—the contradictions, the uncertainty.

Sometimes, it takes music to help us hold space for these feelings. A song that has been a quiet companion to me during this time is "Nothing Even Matters" by Lauryn Hill and D’Angelo.

Pause for a moment, if you’d like, and let the music settle in. It’s a reminder that in the midst of all the noise and confusion, what truly matters is who we are underneath it all.

Ultimately, my diagnosis served as validation, even as others questioned its authenticity.

It happened during the COVID-19 pandemic—a time when the world felt upside down, and the weight of uncertainty made it impossible for me to keep masking. The stress, the isolation, the breakdown of routines—everything I had unconsciously relied on to keep myself “functioning” fell apart. And what emerged was someone I didn’t fully recognize, but had always been there.

As I reflect on my journey now, I can hear, "Cause nothing even matters, at all."

It’s a reminder that, in the end, when we finally embrace ourselves—our true, unmasked selves—everything else fades away. What matters most is being at peace with ourselves, without the need for validation from the outside world.

We are enough.And in this space, I find peace.

I invite you into that space of deeper truth to find "home."

I encourage you, as you read these words, to take this moment for yourself.

Reflect on the parts of you that are yours and the parts you’ve been carrying for survival.

Just as the song so beautifully expresses, nothing matters more than the truth of who you are.

With Love,

Richard