
The Phrasebook
For anyone exhausted from explaining themselves into the ground.
For late-identified autistic adults, this is a space where you'll feel seen, heard, and valued—because your stories matter ❤️
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For anyone exhausted from explaining themselves into the ground.

Xena’s vet appointment included a crying tech, an asshole vet, and more reasons to wonder how much longer this clinic is gonna exist.

The plans are on. The keys are in hand. Then the next thing costs more than you have.

The spare chair goes back. The visit, apparently, takes a little longer.

Another field guide, this one for those who've always felt like they're the problem. Maybe the coolest thing about finally trusting yourself is realizing how often you weren’t.

Set boundaries. Ask for help. Unmask. Great advice . . . until real life gets involved. Welcome to the Autism Advice Graveyard.

Good things can feel frightening when life has taught you to brace for what comes next. Sometimes receiving gentleness takes time. Maybe it doesn’t mean you’re ungrateful but that you’re learning that not everything good disappears.

Who’s autistic this week on Big Brother, accidentally turning into a section hiker, making a first Substack video, and wondering why a robot gets to decide whether human writing is human.

A question about your day. A very small answer. Then, while rinsing a fork, the whole situation finally explains itself.

There’s one human who still hasn’t heard any of this.

Some of the nicest things said about you never make it back. They’re still true.

People who care about you can make others look forward to meeting you before you’ve even arrived.

Someone remembers your joy well enough to recognize it when you aren’t there.

What if the parts of yourself you worked hardest to contain became the exact things someone remembered with affection?

The cashier knows you as oat milk, no bag. There are worse ways to be understood.

Tommy died, which is awful.

A quick explanation of what POTS is, followed by a few practical ways to make getting out and about a little easier.

A printable case file for believing your own evidence.

For days when Wanna hang out? leaves too many blanks. Ready-to-send invites for books, errands, chores, snacks, and separate couches.

You don’t light the good candle. Missing the pleasure would hurt more than using it up.

I branched out, explored some new hiking spots, accidentally went on a three-hour hike from hell, and then—disturbingly—kept trying new trails.

The song you name isn’t always the song you love most. Sometimes it’s the one you’re willing to let other people have opinions about.

For anyone who's ever disappeared without leaving.