And now…a guest writer!!!!  (that lives in my house).

 

 

During the retreats I get to sit back and listen to debates about people’s favorite book, best fidget, most useful podcast. I also have the unique position of seeing Kory operate at home, and what I, along with the Amazon delivery person have noticed after observing Korys in the wild is that these discussions about softest pants and best fidget are not only reserved for the retreat. Kory is on a constant quest to find things she can recommend to her clients, and that help her navigate sensory and health issues. But there’s a catch: she also has to like the company. Not just a little…she has to “like-like” them. They have to stand for something or have great customer service for her to get behind them.
 

For our first Unmasked & Unplugged retreat, I sent only a few emails to companies, mostly out of curiosity if they’d even give an effort like ours the time of day. Rise Up Coffee said yes immediately (and they said yes again this time). We are HUGE fans of Rise Up coffee.  Bearaby generously sent weighted blankets and those knot pillows you can now find at Costco, but you couldn’t then, so they felt extra special. When people from these companies actually said yes, I assumed I’d gotten lucky, caught someone on the right day, and didn’t really think the work we were doing had resonated.
 

This time I contacted a little over 100 companies that either make ND-friendly products or have a mission that fits ours. Some AI searching surfaced brands I hadn’t heard of, and helped me organize and reach out. 

Lesson One: if you send that many messages from your personal account, your “email reputation” takes a hit. When my son’s teacher didn’t reply and I was gearing up to follow up, we learned my message had been parked in Spam because, as the kids say, my reputation was suss.
 

After that hiccup, what followed was a string of generous, human exchanges:

Skincando (MD). Owner Sara Damelio replied immediately with an enthusiastic yes and insisted on sending products “fresh.”

 

True Citrus (MD). I asked for some sample packs; they sent far more, along with a kind note because “people from Maryland have to stick together"

 

Baron Fig. High-end pens that make your handwriting sit up straight. They sent ten fancy pens, retailing around seventy-five dollars each. (I briefly looked up pen resale and decided one annual reputation crisis was plenty.)

 

Denik. Mission-driven and immediately in. They offered a custom notebook; I declined the free custom work, so they insisted I choose an existing design. We now have enough abstract, Atari-ish cover to last two retreats!

 

La Crema. On our West Coast trip this summer we passed through this adorable California winery and we hit it off with a man named Jeff who taught us about California grapes and the history of their wine.  Jeff was adorable, and La Crema became a favorite for us. Nighttime at the retreat is often where connection settles in, wine, beer, or soda in hand, so I asked La Crema if they’d support us. They were totally in and sent a case for the group.
 

Minky Couture. Most generous by volume: a blanket for every attendee, plus extras.

I could list more. Every company had a person on the other end who cared. When Kory posts about our sponsors, they’re worth a visit. These are folks who showed up for a small, real retreat for Autistic adults. 

From small business to BIG brands, it felt really good to make these connections with people who genuinely cared about our mission.  
 

And because this isn’t a movie, I didn’t land everything. I wanted a water-bottle sponsor. I emailed, followed up, organized, hydrated in hope. No luck. That’s next year’s target. If you make water bottles and you’re reading this, my inbox is open, and my reputation is now restored.
 

Here’s the part that loops back to the beginning: quests only work if they’re honest. If you ask for help in a way that reflects what you’re actually building, small, sensory-friendly, human, people say yes. We don’t do hype. We do humans. Turns out a lot of companies do, too.  

 

“Fall ahead, Spring back?”  No thank you?
 

Ah, daylight savings. That twice-yearly societal agreement to mess with our circadian rhythms for... reasons that made sense to someone, somewhere, I guess?

For neurotypical folks, it's an inconvenience. For autistic brains? It's a full system disruption.

Our nervous systems thrive on predictability. We've carefully calibrated our routines, when we eat, when we sleep, when we can tolerate being around other humans. And then someone moves the clock and expects us to just... adjust?  And why is it so damn dark SO early>

 

 

•Permission to go to bed at 7pm if that's what your body needs. "But it's so early!" says who? Your circadian rhythm doesn't care about social norms.

•Permission to eat breakfast foods for dinner (or dinner foods for breakfast, or the same safe meal three times in a row). Routine disruption often means our food flexibility goes out the window first.

•Permission to lean HARD into your routines and special interests. This is not the week to push yourself to be "flexible." Double down on what regulates you.

•Permission to be more sensitive than usual. Your sensory threshold just dropped. That's not weakness, that's biology.

•Permission to say no to things. If you had plans this week and you're struggling, it's okay to cancel. Your nervous system is already doing extra work.
•Permission to acknowledge that you are a human body that is adjusting to change.  Don't pile on to the struggle by asking, “What is wrong with me!”  This struggle hits hard with many of us.  Radical acceptance, here we come!

 

This isn't "just" an hour. For many of us, it's a week (or more) of dysregulation while our nervous system catches up to the arbitrary time shift.

You're not being dramatic. You're not "too sensitive." Your autistic brain is responding exactly as it should to a disruption in routine and circadian rhythm.

Be gentle with yourself this week. The world will keep spinning (at the same speed, despite what the clocks say), and you'll regulate again. Just maybe not on society's timeline.

And hey, if you need to hibernate until this passes? That's valid too.

 

Let's talk about something that keeps coming up in therapy sessions, my DMs, and…yeah my own life too: How do we unmask our autistic directness without accidentally torching every relationship we have?

 

You spend decades masking your natural communication style. You learn to soften, hedge, imply, hint. You become fluent in NT indirect communication even though it feels like speaking in riddles. It's exhausting, but hey, people seem to like you (or at least, they like the version of you that you've created).  Then you get assessed, you start unmasking. And suddenly, your "unfiltered honesty" is causing problems.

 

Someone asks your opinion, you give it, clearly, directly, factually. They get hurt.

You point out a pattern you've noticed. They get defensive.

You disagree with something that doesn't make logical sense. You're "being difficult."

And you're left thinking: "Wait, I thought unmasking was supposed to be freeing? Why does everyone seem mad at me now?"

 

 

When an NT person says "What do you think of my new haircut?" they're often not asking for objective analysis. They're seeking reassurance.

 

When they say "Want to grab lunch sometime?" they might mean it, or they might be performing social niceness with no intention of following through.

 

When they present an idea in a meeting, they might want feedback, or they might want validation and are already attached to the idea.

 

We tend to take questions at face value. We answer what was asked. We're operating in good faith.

 

But NT communication can sometimes have a hidden question underneath: "Do you like me? Am I okay? Will you validate me?"

 

Real talk: Sometimes our post-assessment "I'm just being authentic!" phase is actually... a trauma response to decades of suppressing ourselves. We swing hard in the opposite direction.

If your truth-telling feels angry, reactive, or like you're trying to prove something, pause. That might not be authentic you. That might be wounded you.

 

(I know, I know, that's such a cliché. But hear me out.)

This is hard and honestly unfair that we have to do this work. But:

You can still be honest. You just might need to address the hidden question first: "I support you, AND here's what I'm noticing..." or "You're on the right track, AND have you considered..."

 

Instead of: "That's not accurate. The research actually shows..."

Try: "Interesting! I recently read something different, have you seen the research on X?"

Same information. Different delivery. Less defensiveness.

 

We see patterns. We see systems. We see inconsistencies that others miss. This is a GIFT.

But, and this is big…just because we see something doesn't mean we need to point it out in the moment.  (Yeah, I'll be working on this in my own therapy until the end of time.)

 

Your friend's relationship has red flags you clocked six months ago? You're probably right. Do you need to detail them every time they mention their partner? Probably not (unless they're asking or in danger).

 

Your coworker's project has a fatal flaw? Yes, speak up, that's necessary. But maybe in a private conversation, not in front of their boss.

 

You don't have to choose between masking and being an a$$h*le. There's a middle ground.

Unmasking your autistic directness is absolutely part of being authentic. AND you can learn to deliver that directness in ways that preserve relationships.

 

It's not about going back to exhausting NT-style hinting. It's about adding some cushioning to your truth-telling, not to protect other people's feelings (though that's nice), but to protect YOUR relationships and YOUR peace.
 

Because here's what I've learned: The goal isn't to be the most radically honest person in the room. The goal is to be authentically YOU while still being connected to people you care about.

 

And sometimes, that means learning a few extra translation skills. Not because you're wrong, but because relationships matter, and communication is a bridge we build together.

 

You can be direct AND tactful. You can tell the truth AND preserve connection. You can unmask AND keep your people.

It just takes practice. And a lot of "whoops, let me try that again" moments.

Trust me, I'm still learning this one too.

Are you looking for an actionable, intuitive approach to support PDA kids, teens, and adults? I've read everything I can get my hands on about PDA (Pervasive Drive for Autonomy, aka Pathological Demand Avoidance) and believe that Rabbi Shoshana's PDA Safe Circle is the most actionable and intuitive approach out there.

(This is also why I may or may not have followed her out of the training where she first presented her Safe Circle approach last year.  I had to convince her to teach me everything she knows and be my friend!). Her safe circle actually made some VERY challenging situations in my own family make perfect sense.  From that day on, it genuinely felt like everything shifted in my family.  

Rabbi Shoshana has become a mentor and friend since that first training.  She has shared so much wisdom with me in such a short period of time.  Her techniques have changed my work and my family for the better.  I truly believe that PDA is far more common than we realize, and there are not many places for families to turn for support.  Her online community includes incredible Psychoeducation, a POSITIVE environment, and most of all…hope.
 

PDAers and their loved ones can join her supportive online community. Coaches and clinicians can join the waitlist for her first certification cohort in 2026.  I will be the first clinician in line.  And if you work with me, and have a PDA-er in your life, you've already been using her techniques!

 

Everyone can download The Safe Circle Coloring Book for free here. Go check it out!