A Neurodivergent Childhood

Eight years ago, I  carried my screaming four-year-old out the doors of Target and ran for my car, praying no one would call the cops because they thought I was kidnapping her. Luckily all I got was the judgemental stare-down from the Karen Mom.  I could hear her thoughts.  ‚ÄúThat kid is too old for … Continue reading A Neurodivergent Childhood