I didn’t set out to build a neurodivergent space.
I didn’t even know I was neurodivergent.

If you had asked me a few years ago, I would have just said I was tired… overwhelmed and not enjoying much about life… i was maybe a bit “too much” or “not enough” depending on the day. I had my routines, my ways of coping, my little systems that kept life ticking along. I put makeup on every day, showed up, did the things.

From the outside, I think I looked… fine...

But becoming a parent cracked something open... i felt like a living pandoras box and continued to heal some wounds i did'nt know i had with some counselling but even that did'nt quiet things down.... i used to think 'I love my life' and i wanted to get back to that thought again and i feel so close! i'm working on just a couple more aspects and i think ill be free to feel that happiness :-)

When i became a mum in 2020, Suddenly, the questions got louder.
Why is this so hard for me?
Why does everything feel so intense?
Why does no one else seem to struggle like this?

And maybe the hardest one —
Why can’t people see that I’m struggling?

That’s when the unravelling began. Or maybe the uncovering.

I started to realise that what I thought was just “normal me” was actually years of masking. Carefully, quietly adjusting myself to fit into spaces that were never designed for the way my brain works. The makeup, the smiles, the “I’m fine” — all part of a version of me that kept things manageable, but never quite honest.

And now, here I am… the owner of a creative shop.

Honestly, I find that quite funny sometimes.

Because this space — the one I’ve built with my family — is the most unmasked place I’ve ever existed in.

It’s busy. It’s eclectic. It’s full of half-finished ideas, sudden bursts of inspiration, and creative chaos that somehow makes perfect sense to me. My brain moves quickly, jumping from one project to another, and instead of fighting that… this space allows it. It celebrates it.

Some days I’m painting.
Some days I’m designing.
Some days I’m rearranging everything for the hundredth time because it suddenly feels wrong.

A jack of all trades is a master of none, but is better then a master of one! - this was said to me once in an interview when they looked at my CV but sadly they didn't mention the second part and i believe their attempt was to belittle my broad skillset which i found confusing! as a teenager i remember thinking i want to know as much about as much as i can.... all so I can be prepared in all social situations because this perhaps didn't come naturally to me. Now... i'm the person will all those amazing ideas..... i know about all sorts and can add value. 

My style changes daily, depending on how I feel. And instead of seeing that as inconsistency, I’ve started to see it as truth. My art reflects me — fluid, emotional, curious, and constantly evolving.

And the most unexpected, beautiful part?

My people keep finding me.

Other neurodivergent souls walk through the door and there’s this unspoken recognition. A shared language without words. We connect over the overwhelm, the creativity, the need for spaces that don’t demand we shrink ourselves.

The love for this space is mutual. You can feel it.

It’s not just a shop.
It’s a soft place to land.

I’ve noticed it especially within the home educating community — families and individuals of all ages looking for somewhere that feels a little more flexible, a little more understanding, a little less rigid than the world outside. A place where curiosity is welcome, where creativity isn’t boxed in, where difference isn’t something to “fix.”

And maybe that’s what I’ve created, without even realising I was doing it.

A space that works because of the way my brain works — not in spite of it.

I’m still early in this journey. Still learning, still unlearning. Still figuring out what it means to be AuDHD, to live without masking and understand my stims, to honour my needs without guilt and give myself grace without judgement (that's easier said then done).

But if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s this:

The things I once thought were my struggles…
are quietly becoming my strengths.

And if you’ve found your way here — whether in person or through these words — there’s a good chance you’ll understand exactly what I mean.

You’re very welcome here.

I try to help break down barriers to creativity and using your hands to make something worth celebrating. 

— JJ x

Keywords for the people who might need to find this:
AuDHD, ADHD, autism, neurodivergent, masking, unmasking, creative business, sensory-friendly spaces, overwhelmed mums, late diagnosis, neurodivergent women, home education, home schooling community, creative wellbeing, safe spaces, authentic living.