Wondering


When is the moment you break down everything you’ve ever known and learn something(s) new?

When do you see someone in their humanness and extend a hand and show yours too?

Do you listen when people tell you how they feel seen and choose to make the effort to not be another person who adds to their pain of moving through a heartbreaking world?

When do you?

When do you choose to sway with the wind to bend and see a different point of view instead of fighting so hard to stay in the same position that eventually you will break?

Are you committed to growth, or just feeling like you have grown enough?

Do you listen?

Do you care?

Do you welcome the many many seasons of birth/death/rebirth we all go through if we are open to it?

Do you welcome it?

Will you metamorphosize with me?

Will you do it for the world?


I’ve been working a lot on getting the house situated. For it to really feel like our home. It’s taken me so long to find the ways to settle in here since moving. I think I’ll forever miss the home we lived in in Louisiana, even if I’m glad we moved to Vermont.

Lots of organizing and deep cleaning has happened but there is still so much to do. But my body is exhausted.

Joey took apart the closet a couple days ago to widen and reinforce the shelf because it was seconds away from falling down completely and WRECKING my nervous system.

Also, just take a moment for this mirror Natasha sent me years ago. She found it while thrifting and thought of me. I finally decided where I wanted it to go so Joey hung it for me and I repainted it gold to make it stand out on our dark bedroom walls. I’m so grateful for the items from Natasha that help serve as a physical reminder of her presence in my life.

And here’s two items I had been missing for a long while now. The necklace is my favorite. It feels like an energetic shield for myself in navigating the world. An old friend once tried to steal it when I accidentally left it at her house. And when I haven’t been able to find it again for the last few years, I feared the worst for its fate. But I randomly started looking through a container of odds and ends, like CDs and old phones, cords and flash cards from Joey’s dive school days, there it was in the bottom, a little tarnished but as beautiful and powerful as ever. I definitely screamed when I saw it.

And the metal star garland is one of my favorite little decor items. I’ve used it a lot as overlays in editing photos over the years and also to add a fun piece to outfits sometimes. I’m just so excited I found it in the bedroom deep clean.

And here’s just some photos from around the yard and also of my precious angel baby Midna.

Was excited to see the neighbors grapes that I’ve been watering for them are ripening up.

A tomato with a peenie weenie.

::👀neighborhood watch 👀::

Coming to an end


Our annual pre back to school/summer break coming to an end trip to Portland to go to Holy Donut (where I get to enjoy donuts with the family as well because they have gluten free ones), Trader Joe’s, and then to the beach. It was “gloomy” but those are the best beach days because they aren’t crowded. When we were leaving, we actually were the only ones left on the beach because it had started to rain which was simultaneously cool and eerie.

One of Joey’s coworkers told him about this poké place in Portland and I did the “this food is so damn good I can’t help but dance” dance.


One thing is for certain, I am very grateful to be on this wild adventure of the human existence. For those few friends that have taken the time to get to know me and love me for the way I show up in the world. For this little family unit Joey and I have carved out together. And for getting to exist in a world of infinite beauty.

And for cats.

Freedom and grief


It’s such a mindfucky place to be, to discover late in life that you are autistic in a world that is notoriously anti-autistic people. I’ve been processing this knowledge of myself for a few years now. Always feeling different than most everyone around me my whole life. Being told I’m either too much or not enough. Being bullied and punished for not fitting into a mould that society wanted.

There’s so much grief that comes from knowing you were constantly being pushed to have a different brain. A different nervous system. A different way of connecting to the world around you. And knowing you tried and felt so broken most of the life you have lived because no matter how much you tried, you just couldn’t be “okay” according to those around you.

And simultaneously there’s so much relief that comes with finally have the ability to find the things that work for you to cope with the world, not feel so overwhelmed all the time, and understand yourself more fully. But it doesn’t stop people from telling you you are wrong and misinformed, when their information on what it means to be autistic is rooted in studies done by eugenicists and people that are simply observing the autistic experience rather than actually experiencing it.

When I made this discovery about myself, almost every single person I told, in a effort to let them know and understand me more fully, responded in hurtful and damaging ways. From telling me I was wrong because I am empathic and “autistic people just aren’t,” to another instantly infantilizing me, to someone invalidating me entirely with “we’re all a little bit autistic”, which I promise you no, no we aren’t all a “little bit autistic,” to another straight up apologizing to me like being autistic was a death sentence. So I stopped telling people, even when I wanted to because for me, if someone is really interested in knowing me fully, seeing me in my entirety, getting to understand my communication style and the way my brain works and body feels moving through the world, letting them know I’m autistic in a lot of ways is like handing them the answer key. But it’s painful to find out that most people are not interested in truly seeing someone when the word autism comes up. Treating them like a blight on this world.

For me, yes, it has so many struggles. I get overstimulated easily. Burnt out often. Hearing all the sounds all the time all at once, like why is the goddamn electricity so loud. I get frustrated easily when something unexpected happens. I misunderstand people a lot when most people rely on tone and body language rather than the actual words they are saying to communicate. I overthink every interaction. I get bullied often for speaking plainly (or bluntly as the world likes to point out) or for liking things that the world says I should have “grown out of.” And most people being irritated at me for passionately talking about things I am interested in in depth and at length for.

But to me, it’s also such a beautiful thing. I cannot accept injustice and fight for a better more accepting world with my whole heart. My brain is always wanting more information and is ever expansive and believes in all humans ability to also be ever expansive. I feel everything so deeply and in my entirety. My world is in technicolor. Which is a blessing and a curse.

Most people have found my being so overly in the world but also “not of” this world as an annoyance. And it’s heartbreaking. I just want to deeply connect in a world that wants me to stay in the superficial when I just can’t.

I want friends that hear this information about me and use it as an opportunity to expand their understanding of autism and celebrate the beauty that comes with that life experience, but can also understand it comes with a lot of differences in our nervous systems and the way we move through the world and not feel we are broken and needing fixing. I just need support and acceptance.

Save me


Please, for the love of all that is holy, please explain to me why I am like this. When I was in the throes of procrastinating on finishing up the tea party outfits, Penelope and I were playing Hyrule Warriors and during that I asked them about what/who they wanted to be for Halloween this year so I could start work on that when I was done with those outfits. Joey and I are being simple characters from my favorite movie and I just thrifted items for those outfits. Will is being a character from a game he loves that he has most of the items in his wardrobe already for it all so my mind power is relatively free to work on Penelope’s costume with ease. EXCEPT I NOTORIOUSLY COMPLICATE MY OWN LIFE.

When Penelope was about 2 or 3 they were a Kikwi from the Zelda game “Skyward Sword” (Will was Girahim and honestly is was my favorite costume grouping ever). So Penelope had originally said they wanted to be a Kikwi again this year and I got all nostalgic and happy for the cuteness again. But then my extra ass said,”Lol you should totally be Hestu” while we were playing Hyrule Warriors.

So…now I have to figure out a giant Hestu costume and will be attempting to use EVA foam for it which I have never created with before. All that mental space I thought I’d have this autumn for having to not sew four costumes for Halloween this year? Gone.

Why am I like this?

I could have been recreating this simple plant creature. Instead I’m BUILDING A FUCKING TREE.

Haven


Appreciating my little haven of a bedroom I’ve been slowly creating. Was cleaning and just feeling grateful for this space.

I put the sword there because Penelope was chomping at the bits to jump on my freshly washed bedding. It’s not for some sort of keusches Beilager sort of ritual.

I also got looking through things, as you do when you clean, and here’s two of my favorite fae from one of my favorites books “Good Faeries Bad Faeries” by Brian Froud. (The Gloominous Doom to clarify is my favorite “bad” fae on that page.)

A poem Joey wrote me in high school. 🥰

Bugs


Please tell me why when I put on this newest stay I finished sewing today it instantly turned me into Cameron Diaz’s character in Charlie’s Angels when they are wearing dirndls and lederhosen and generally acting over the top, ya know, like the entire basis of the movie, so Joey handed me some beer steins.

Meditative


The thing about having a garden that always ends up producing an epic shit ton, that’s a technical measurement, of tomatoes is that you have every reason to make a ton of homemade pasta sauce and pico de gallo. Today, it was the former. And making tomato pasta sauce from scratch is one of my favorite things to make. It’s always deeply comforting and therapeutic. I didn’t have a parent or grandparent who taught me some secret family recipe or whatnot. It was something I taught myself to do and it always comes from a deep place in my soul.

Momentary pause to look at this fucker. I miss having chickens to feed them to.

There’s half a bottle of red wine in this sauce.I haven’t had a drink of any alcohol in two years. Apparently I make up for in cooking with wine.

Post simmering for hours and blending. I can’t wait to eat it on ravioli tonight, which I also haven’t had in probably 4 years but Joey found gluten free ravioli for me.

I hope you find some comfort and nourishment in your food today.