What if traditional therapy that didn't work for you was never built for your brain to begin with? You've sat in a therapist's office and been asked, "How do you think your partner feels right now?" And the honest answer that came up was, "I have no idea." Maybe you said something else instead, because that answer felt wrong. Maybe you guessed. Maybe you shut down a little, because a question that was supposed to be simple suddenly felt like you were being quizzed on how to

Why does everything feel flat, even the things you used to love? You get the diagnosis, or you don't. Either way, you notice it eventually. The job that once excited you now feels like static. The hobby you couldn't stop talking about three months ago is gathering dust in the closet. The person you were obsessed with is still around, still great, and somehow barely registering anymore. You're not sad exactly. You're not crying in the shower. You're just not into anything, and

What happens when the therapy meant to help you starts asking you to be a different person instead? I used to use DBT and CBT in my practice. I don't anymore, and I want to explain why, because I think a lot of people are sitting in those modalities right now wondering why something that's supposed to help feels like it's working against them. Before I was a therapist, I was a client. A late diagnosed autistic client, sitting across from several different therapists who all r

I was raised to be a lady. Cross my ankles, keep my knees together, wait for the man to call. It took me until I was thirty nine to stop performing and start finding out who I actually was underneath it all.

Is that tightness in your chest fear, or is it trying to tell you something true? You're about to say something to a partner. Something real. A boundary. A new relationship. A scene you have been wanting to try. Right as you open your mouth, your stomach drops. Heart picks up. Chest goes tight. So you stop. Is this fear? Or is this real information? Am I panicking, or am I finally listening to myself? That question does not have an easy answer. It should not. Anxiety and intu

I sat in therapy for almost ten years, facing the same question in countless variations. "What are you feeling right now?" "Where is that in your body?" "What comes up when you sit with that?" I would look at my therapist, genuinely trying, but often came up empty. Not because I was avoiding the question or resistant. I simply did not have the answer yet. Sometimes, it took days for me to figure it out. Let me be clear. This isn't a story about therapy failing me because I wa

There’s a moment right before a scene when the noise of the ordinary world fades away. The negotiation is done. You both know what the next hour will look like. The collar goes on, the rope is laid out, or you simply agree on what’s about to happen. Something in your body settles. If you’ve felt that, you’ve likely experienced it elsewhere too. Maybe it was loading a save file at one in the morning. Or rolling a new character. Think about that pause at the table right before

If you’re a late-diagnosed autistic woman who’s done all the therapy and still feels stuck, the problem may be masking and burnout, not you.

By Maya Attia, MA, LMFT You want to want sex. You might even be enjoying it — right up until the moment you're not. A texture. A smell. The weight of a body on yours. Skin that suddenly feels like sandpaper. And just like that, you're out. Not turned off, exactly. Overloaded. If you're neurodivergent, this probably sounds familiar. And if you've ever been told you're "too sensitive" or that you just need to "relax," I want you to hear this clearly: There is nothing wrong with