If you’ve spent any time in the Autistic community, you know how rare it is for us to say, “I’m proud of myself.” We’re taught to downplay our wins, to rush past our accomplishments, to worry that naming them makes us arrogant or “too much.”

 

But today, I’m saying it: I’m proud. I’m proud of the work I do.

 

Last week, I partnered with Psychotherapy Networker to lead a training for therapists on Neuro-affirming care…and 18,000 people signed up. That’s not just a big number. That’s a stadium full of people, real humans, choosing to show up and learn how to better support Neurodivergent clients.  

 

And I’m deeply proud of the Autistic adults who bravely recorded and shared their stories for this training. Their words left people thinking, feeling, and emailing me with messages I won’t soon forget. 

Context Matters

If you’ve scrolled social media lately, you’ve probably seen the memes and burnout jokes about being a therapist right now. They’re not wrong.

 

My clients are government workers whose paychecks were missed this week.
 

They’re people being denied the accommodations I advocate for, sometimes within hours of me sending the letter.

 

They’re parents of kids navigating systems that were never built for them, trying to survive in a world that often feels unsafe.

 

So yeah, things are rough. By Friday, the emotional weight of all of it…the policies, the refusals, the survival mode.. feels heavy. Heavier than usual.

 

 

My coping strategy? More.

More teaching. More creating. More writing. More doing.

 

Is it perfectly balanced or sustainable? Nope. But it’s real. And it gives me hope. My “special interest” is also my job, which means boundaries blur and balance is tricky. Sometimes it pulls me away from other things that matter. I know I’m not alone in that. But last Friday reminded me exactly why I do it.

 

The chat during the training was alive. My inbox has been flooded with thoughtful, heartfelt messages…many from therapists saying it changed how they practice. Others were from Autistic adults who shared their stories, telling me how empowering it felt to help others understand.

 

It made the prep and pressure worth it. Every bit of it.

 

 

In a week where so many of my clients faced missed paychecks, denied support, and relational strain, I was reminded that hope isn’t something we wait for, it’s something we create. Together.
 

Sometimes hope is a letter written.

 

Sometimes it’s an email that says thank you.

 

Sometimes it’s a therapist who shows up even when they’re exhausted.

 

Sometimes it’s 18,000 people saying, “I want to do better.”

 

This job is impossibly hard some days. But if I’m doing it right, I want to be a reminder to you, to my clients, and maybe even to myself that we’re still here. Still trying. Still learning. Still capable of powerful, real change.

 

If this is your first newsletter, welcome. I’m so glad you’re here.

And to everyone else: thank you for being part of this work. Thank you for letting me do what I do.

 

Today, I’m not just tired. I’m grateful. I’m hopeful. And I’m proud.

 

We keep going, together.

 

I didn't have “Circumcision suggested as cause of Autism” on my 2025 BINGO card. 

 But here we are.  

Just a reminder that Autism is genetic. 

 

Are we validating the feelings of the people we love?

Um… probably not. Especially if you’re tired, anxious, or feeling anything unpleasant yourself.

 

And if you’re Autistic, there’s a solid chance your brain wants to explain.

You want to clarify your intention.

Give the backstory.

Find a parallel situation.

Make sure they know you’re not the bad guy.

 

But validation is NOT about being understood. It’s about helping them feel understood.

It’s the fastest way to get you both on the same page, not through logic, but through being seen.

 

That can come later. Or not. Either way, this part matters more.

 

“I hate coming home to the house being a mess.” 
“You always take forever getting out the door and it is so embarrassing that we are always late.” 

“You never ask me how my day is.  It's not to much to ask to want someone to care about me.” 

“I'm so sick of everything that's happening right now.  I hate my life.” 

“Yeah, I know how much you hate it when the house is messy.  That can't feel good to come home to." 

“That totally makes sense that it embarrasses you to be late.  I know you prefer to be on time.”

“I definitely could have given you a better welcome home greeting.  I know today was a rough day, and I'd love to hear about it.”

“I can tell you're having a tough day.  This whole week has been brutal for you.” 

Notice what it didn't say…it didn't say…

“Yeah, but my problem is worse.”  
“Everything is my fault.  You're right, I am such an asshole.” 

“Nothing I do is ever right.”

“You're overreacting.” 

 

Validating just says, “I. See. YOU.”  And your feeling makes sense (for you.) (It doesn't have to make sense to your partner…it often doesn't).  

 

Then stop. Don’t fix. Don’t pivot. Don’t drop a Ted Talk on how you didn’t mean it like that.

 

I remember one time when I was SO frustrated with how our weekend went with the kids.  One of those weekends where there was zero time to be a human with your own needs.  I started ranting to my husband about our over-programmed kids, and how ungrateful everyone is, and how tired I was and how all I wanted was some downtime.  And I just KNEW he was going to start pushing back and saying that it's our job to drive them everywhere and do what we had to do.  But he didn't.  Instead, he said, “I totally get what you're saying.  I hate that feeling of doing so much for the kids and feeling like no one cares.  It's awful. I really appreciate you and how much you do for our family."    And my jaw hit the ground.  It stopped me in my tracks.  Nothing changed.  The weekend was still exhausting and annoying…but feeling seen made it all better.  Instantly.  So what did I do?  I told HIM how much I appreciated his hard work.  And his validation.  And I gave him a huge hug and we enjoyed a night together…chilling out.  INSTEAD of doing the “who's life is harder” olympics.  (Then I sent his therapist a tip on Venmo.  Ok, just kidding.  But I wanted to.)

 

Try it.  Validation is a great way to turn big feels into connection.

If you want to read anonymous first-hand accounts of Autistic adults sharing what they wish therapists knew…check out the “I Wish Therapists Knew” project.  Maybe you want to share your story!

Are you feeling helpless and frustrated about what is going on in our government and want to take action? Join your local Indivisible chapter! Indivisible is a national grassroots organization with local chapters in just about every congressional district in the US.

 

From their website: 

“Fascists depend on you believing you’re alone and powerless. But when individuals come together, we create real power.”  They provide resources, give actions items, and co-sponsor protests. They also have a weekly webinar called “What’s the Plan?” on Zoom at 3:00-4:00pm EST and on YouTube if you miss it. The co-founders give a brief update on the events of the week, answer questions and provide calls to action.

 

Chesapeake Indivisible, which meets monthly in the Annapolis Eastport library, is one such local chapter. (You can check the website above for other groups in this region) We have co-sponsored and organized protests, email a weekly newsletter to members, and we do a Visibility Brigade, which is a posting of messages on an overpass. We go to the Ridgely Ave overpass, which is over Rt. 50 in Annapolis just past Bestgate Rd. exit,  and display a message on large letter boards along with energetic flag waving, typically for Friday rush hour.  We welcome anyone who wants to join!

If interested, please contact Linda NeJame at nejamel@yahoo.com. 

Catch me teaching at the Ferentz Institute this week!!!

Have I mentioned that we have a room of neuro-friendly goodies from our generous sponsors!!!! GET READY RETREATERS!!!!!!!