Growing up with autism and ADHD, navigating mental health challenges, and often feeling misunderstood, I learned what loneliness feels like. I didn't have many friends. I remember trying to raise money for a school fundraiser and knocking on a girl's door. Someone answered and asked, "Aren't you the girl who gets bullied at school a lot?" At school, kids would call me a fat, ugly gorilla, touch me as though I were a disease, and then run away. Some even told me to hang myself. There were times when I wondered if there would ever be a place where I could simply be myself and still belong.

But I also learned something beautiful about friendship from someone who couldn't say a single word: my dog, Win. He didn't need me to explain why I was different. He didn't ask me to change, or to earn a place beside him. He was simply there. And sometimes, when you feel alone in the world, having someone who stays means more than words could ever express.

Win reminded me that love doesn't always need words. Sometimes it just needs someone to be there.

Along the way, I was also blessed with a dear friend and mentor who taught me something that deeply changed my perspective: love is not conditional. It isn't something we should have to earn by being perfect, fitting in, or becoming who someone else wants us to be. Genuine love makes room for people as they are. That lesson inspired me in ways I will always carry with me, and it helped shape the foundation of what I wanted NDVerse to become: a community where compassion, dignity, and belonging are not things people have to earn, but things everyone deserves.

That feeling has stayed with me. I know what it means to wish someone would notice you're hurting, invite you in, or remind you that your life matters. And I know there are people of every age, with all kinds of experiences, quietly wishing for the same thing.

When I began sharing my experiences publicly, I met people who understood that loneliness. Families searching for answers. Individuals struggling to find genuine resources. People hearing so much about awareness, but still longing for real support and connection.

I wanted to help build the kind of place I once needed.

That's why I founded NDVerse: to help create the understanding, community, and support I once needed. Our mission connects autism, ADHD, mental health, and suicide prevention because people don't experience these challenges in isolation.

Over time, I realized that meaningful change doesn't have to mean building every service ourselves. There are already organizations, professionals, and advocates doing important work, often with limited resources and without enough opportunities to collaborate.

What if we could accomplish more by coming together than by working apart?

My vision for NDVerse is to help bring these efforts together: connecting independent organizations, encouraging shared projects, and pursuing collaborative funding so that more people can find education, resources, and a community where they belong. We want to work with partners to reduce barriers to autism and ADHD evaluations, strengthen mental health and suicide prevention support, and create welcoming spaces for connection. These are goals we're building toward, not services we claim to provide everywhere today.

I can't promise to have every answer. But I can promise that the heart behind this community is real. I want NDVerse to be a place where someone who has spent years feeling unseen can finally hear, and believe: you don't have to face life alone.

I know what it feels like to need someone there. I want to be there for this community, too.

Not just to talk about inclusion, but to help people experience it. Not just to tell people they matter, but to help them feel it.

No one should have to face life alone. And no organization working to help others should have to do it alone, either.