To be a bit vulnerable with you… Even though I’ve supported neurodivergent women for over 20 years as an Occupational Therapist — combining my professional work with 33 years of lived experience — and I’ve helped hundreds of brilliant, overwhelmed women transform how they organize their time and energy... There was a time when I felt like I should have had it all figured out. I was an expert in executive function and ADHD, yet I was still paying the ADHD tax — late fees, missed appointments, unfinished projects I deeply cared about. The lowest moment hit on what seemed like just another day. I arrived 15 minutes late to a doctor’s appointment — just 15 minutes — and was told the doctor wouldn’t see me. I still had to pay. I stood in the waiting room, holding back tears, ashamed and exposed, surrounded by other patients who didn’t know that moment was breaking me. I kept repeating to myself, “What’s wrong with me? I’m not good enough. Why can’t I pull it together?” On the outside, I looked like I was managing. But inside, I was unraveling. That moment was a wake-up call. I realized I wasn’t just losing time — I was losing money, confidence, and connection with myself. I was pushing through, relying on intellect and willpower, but still tripping over “simple” things like getting somewhere on time. I decided I wasn’t going to keep paying the ADHD tax. I made it a game: what could I save — in time or money — by doing one small thing differently? I started using a flexible calendar that asked, “What kind of person do I want to be?” Instead of forcing systems that weren’t designed for my brain, I started listening to my body first and planning from there. What I once saw as a prison — structure and scheduling — became a source of strength and clarity. I stopped fighting my brain, and started building systems that honored it. One of the most meaningful moments came when a colleague invited me to present to the Occupational Therapy program at the University of Texas Health Science Center San Antonio. She said, “You have a way of seeing things differently — and we need more of that.” I realized I wasn’t just supporting clients — I was shaping how other Occupational Therapists view and support neurodivergent people. Colleagues told me, “You’re a creative problem solver,” and “You make things make sense.” The very ways I used to hide were now being recognized as gifts that made me an incredible teacher and leader. All those missed appointments and spirals of shame? They shaped how I see, how I support, and how I lead. Which is why I’m so passionate about helping other brilliant, overwhelmed women quiet the shame, drop the mask, and build systems that work with their brains — not against them. Because it’s not about fixing anyone. It’s about freeing them..