I didn’t realize I was neurodivergent until my healing journey began — at 36, with an autoimmune diagnosis. Until that point, I had simply assumed everyone felt the frequencies and emotions of others the same way I did. It was only when I began investigating why my own body had turned against itself that the realization landed.

The awakening I experienced at 17 was far more profound than what my friends described after encountering DMT. It wasn’t merely enlightenment; it was my spiritual gifts coming online. Back then, I had no language for kundalini or energetic healing, so I concluded there was something wrong with me — that I was too sensitive, too fragile to handle what was happening.

If I had understood neurodivergence at the time — that different nervous systems require different approaches, that unique wiring calls for unique paths — I might not have buried this story for twenty years. Shame kept it hidden: the discovery of my gifts arriving through a then-obscure scheduled shamanic medicine felt like proof I was broken, not blessed.