Slow down. Learn to be bored. Cook everything from scratch. Put down your phone. Stop trying to optimize your life. Where have you heard these self-help tropes before? If you're expecting a blog post about one of those books that blames the downfall of society on smart phones or about trad wives in an MLM peddling natural supplements to cure hyperactivity, good guess, but we were actually looking for "anti-capitalists." "But wait, Stacie, isn't that how you describe yourself?

Spend enough time in therapy spaces (from pop psychology Instagram to your own clinician's office) and you'll probably hear some version of advice to "get out of your head and into your body." The idea makes sense since many folks resonate with spending so much time and energy thinking that they lose touch with what they're feeling physically. They may find that learning to notice their muscle tension, breath patterns, and internal sensations that point to emotions they're fe

I have spent far too many years trying to be mysterious to no avail. Why? Because when you identify as an "open book," you learn through trial and error that people want to hear from people they don't usually hear from. Craving connection, not just nodding and smiling, means wanting people to want to know you. When sharing is regulating, though, you're positioned in an impossible double bind: suppress the urge to talk at the expense of your peace, or embrace your verbosity wi

I sat down to write a blog post about body gratitude. After stumbling into what felt like a genuine sense of appreciation for my body recently, I thought I had a new, edgy idea that might help other disabled folks access the elusive concept sans the toxic positivity usually used to lead us to the conclusion that our bodies aren't actually as bad as we thought they were. Since I didn't have to repeat a bunch of affirmations in the mirror or work particularly hard to find this

If your social media algorithm has any overlap with mine, you've surely come across "bean soup theory." Bean soup theory, coined from the comment, "What do I do if I'm allergic to beans, though?" on a video of a recipe for bean soup, has become internet shorthand for a particular social norm: not everything is for everyone, and we don't need to announce every way something doesn't apply to us. I do think that's a useful reminder sometimes, especially when we pour precious ene

I recently saw a fellow therapist as a question in a professional group: "Can someone have PDA without being autistic?" I understood the question. Clinicians are trained to sort, categorize, and differentiate. We want to get things right, and our clients are often counting on us to do so with stakes that feel really high. But my reaction wasn't really about PDA. It was about the assumption hidden underneath the question that there is a final authority capable of telling us wh

As my co-author and I wrapped up the section of our book that challenges self-regulation as a gold-standard, universal mental health goal, we both admitted that we felt nervous about how it would be received in the current cultural climate. A few months later, I came across a social media post from an eating disorder clinician straight out of early-2000s-era diet culture suggesting that while eating when you're distressed might make you feel better temporarily, it's not a fix

I often describe the first round of recovery ever from my eating disorder as "basic." That is to say because all the psychoeducation and the skills and the conceptualizing of why I was engaging in these behaviors was brand new to me, and it rocked my socks off. I did what they told me to do. I followed the meal plan, I journaled about my emotions, I put body image affirmation post-its on my mirror, and so on. And it "worked." I don't put quotes around that because I inevitabl

Birthdays have been a therapy topic for as long as I've been working with fellow autistic folks. Usually someone mentions having seen a social media post about how hard it is to be the center of attention or to react in the "right" way to a gift, and don't get me wrong-I have no idea what I'm supposed to do while everyone is singing happy birthday to me. Do I look at the cake? Do I sing along? What do I do with my hands? But in my experience, most "why birthdays can be hard f

When neurodivergent people in eating disorder recovery talk about exercise, the narrative that we are more susceptible to becoming addicted to it than neurotypical peers might be. "Be careful," we're warned, because adrenaline, endorphins, vestibular input, dopamine, and emotion regulation are all things that movement provides, and becoming dependent on it to self-medicate might mean overdoing it. If you're sensing a tone of cynicism here, you're onto me. To be fair, this exp

Pathological demand avoidance, also called pervasive drive for autonomy (though if you ask me-a PDAer-both names are lacking), is a hot topic in the neurodiversity-affirming mental health realm. I often see colleagues chastise each other in therapist spaces: "It's not oppositional defiant disorder, it's PDA. ODD isn't affirming." I get the same "ick" I used to get in treatment team meetings when my boss would interrupt staff who used the term "attention-seeking" by saying "Th

Have you ever had a small idea, a possibility, a "maybe" turn into something that felt emotionally real long before there was any evidence that it would actually happen? When it didn't work out, did the devastation feel wildly out of proportion to what actually occurred? If so, this may not be about being naive or idealistic. For some people, this pattern is shaped by how OCD relates to uncertainty, imagination, and emotional regulation. OCD is often misunderstood as a disord

The dog rescue worker brought out the puppy that ended up being my dog son, followed by his brother and rotated the two of them multiple times before I announced that I was stuck in indecision because I loved them both so much. When she reflected to me that it was clear to her based on my mannerisms and emotional expression that I liked one more than the other, I was truly astounded. How did this person know how I was feeling better than I did? Did it make sense to outsource

How low compassionate empathy can set the stage for moral OCD Most of us assume (and are taught) that caring about other people is a feeling, a warm, emotional pull that says, “Go comfort them. Go help. Go be there." We learn that good people are caring people, and to care means to be distressed enough by someone else's distress that you feel compelled to take action to alleviate it if you can. But that isn’t how everyone’s mind works, and if that's surprising to you, it's li

If you’ve spent any time in self-help spaces, parenting forums, or workplace “professionalism” conversations, you’ve probably heard some version of "Don't be entitled. The world doesn't owe you anything." Entitlement is framed as one of the ugliest personality traits one can possess. It's selfish, unreasonable, and corrosive to relationships, they say. And yes, entitlement can cause harm when it’s paired with exploitation or disregard for others’ needs. But fear of being seen

The idea that relationships should not be "transactional" is in line with the anti-capitalist values around which I live my life and practice therapy. It is true that healthy relationships are built on more than give-and-take exchanges of favors, but the key word is "more than." Those exchanges are still there, and they are still crucial. While it's romantic and Hallmark card-esque to believe that love and friendship should be unconditional and that care is best when it's giv

There is a tremendous amount of stigma around identifying as "gifted" as an adult. If you're thinking, "oh, poor gifted kids, must be so hard to be smart," I get it. It was that attitude, that kept this key piece of my self-understanding at arm's length for over 30 years. The fear of being perceived as conceited or—similar to how I felt in the early days of trying on my ADHD and autism identities—just plain wrong is a common reason adults who are "twice exceptional" don't eve

For those of us who are autistic and have an interest-driven nervous system, "special interests" (SpIns) are not just hobbies—they’re integral to our identity, offering comfort, focus, and a sense of mastery. An eating disorder may become a SpIn in and of itself or it may arise tangentially through other SpIns that either necessitate heightened awareness of one's body, eating, and movement habits, or are just muddied by the messaging of diet culture and involve a body ideal,

In college, I volunteered for a program to teach second-graders to guess what their peers were feeling based on flashcards of facial expressions, petting therapy dogs and imagining how they felt, and all kinds of reciprocal communication skill-building exercises. The program was called “Empathy Matters.” Those who had been signed up were the kids identified as having “behavioral issues,” bullying classmates, and seeming from the outside to not care about others. I wouldn’t be

Given that every individual has a sensory profile as unique as our fingerprints, and that every sense is involved in our experience of embodiment, it only makes sense that the way we approach healing our relationships with our bodies should be adapted to fit our very specific sensory needs. It’s exciting to hear more and more eating disorder providers remark that treatment can no longer be “one-size-fits-all.” But when individualizing a plan for healing, how are they taking