Has anyone ever told you, “I don’t get what you mean”?
Or maybe, “That’s not what I meant”?
For me, that’s been a constant.
And I’ve also heard things like, “You’ve got crazy expectations” or “You judge everything and everyone.”
So I grew up thinking something was wrong with me. Like I just couldn’t explain myself, and my words always got twisted into meanings I’d never even thought of. Since it happened with pretty much everyone, I became convinced the problem was me.
Then in 2024, I got my diagnosis: I’m neurodivergent. And suddenly, 46 years of beliefs and experiences were turned upside down. I wasn’t broken. I was autistic. But what did that mean? And how did it explain all those misunderstandings?
In one year, I discovered a whole world I didn’t know existed. And the big issue? Language.
I’m an art director, musician, illustrator, writer… I’m not trying to be a therapist or a scientist. This project comes from a simple (and maybe bold) idea: to share, with my own tools and experiences, what it feels like to navigate the world through neurodivergence.
Here’s the thing: we just speak a different language. It’s not about interpretation, it’s about structure.
Imagine being a Mac surrounded by Windows computers. Same idea of “code,” but the way it works isn’t always compatible.
Take my music, for example. I’ve been writing songs for 25 years, and almost all of them are about the struggle to communicate. But no one ever saw it that way. People thought I was heartbroken, sad, or talking about some specific event.
Once, a friend even asked me: “Is everything okay with your wife?”
I had no clue what she meant, the song wasn’t about my relationship at all. It was about how hard it is to connect with people.
Out of 150 songs, written over 9,000 days, only a handful of times has someone really understood what I meant. And it’s not like I write cryptic poetry or philosophy. I’ve always used clear, simple words. Paired them with the right music. Still, it didn’t get through.
I even remember someone telling me while listening to one of my songs: “You can’t write always about love!”
But that song wasn’t about love. It was about growth and communication.
Try setting aside your usual way of interpreting sentences and ideas, and let’s start fresh, from the language itself. With me, it really works! And it works for me too. Lately, I’ve discovered that just a small clarification or adding the perspective behind a concept is often enough for me to interact with people in a really simple and natural way.
And hey: don’t be afraid of looking a little silly. Clear communication and sharing the perspective behind an idea should be the foundation of any relationship. Sadly, it feels like many of us are forgetting that.