A couple of weeks ago, my neighbor texted and asked if he could interview me.
He’s a senior in high school and is applying for a scholarship that asks him to write an essay about someone in his community who inspires him. I was incredibly honored that he chose me.
We sat down to talk about my journey and my work, and somewhere along the way, the conversation turned to neurodiversity.
He started asking questions.
Really good questions.
He has a nonspeaking autistic brother, so autism has been part of his family’s life for as long as he can remember. But as we talked about the much broader spectrum of human neurodiversity, I could see him thinking through it in real time.
When I started describing autism and ADHD in my own family, he stopped me.
“I think I have that.”
I smiled and nodded. I already knew.
We kept talking about the different ways neurodivergence can show up—including in people who are academically gifted. He’s at the top of his class at a STEM school, taking a heavy load of AP classes, with SAT scores to match.
And I watched the lightbulb go off.
He had always understood neurodivergence through the lens of his brother. Suddenly, he had a new framework for understanding himself.
A few days later, I texted him to tell him how much I’d enjoyed our conversation and how honored I was that he’d chosen to write about me.
He wrote back:
“Hopefully I can make some sort of impact like you have.”
I thought back to something he’d said during our interview. He’d looked at my website and YouTube channel, and his eyes got huge when he told me he’d seen the thousands of followers and millions of video views.
I had to laugh. Until then, I think I’d mostly just been the cat lady who lived next door.
But I didn’t want him walking away from our conversation thinking that impact is measured in followers or views.
So I texted him back:
Making an impact isn’t about doing something “big.” One small thing, one gesture, a few spoken words can alter the course of history. You’re already making an impact every single day, so just show up authentically in everything you do, and the world will feel it.
I’ve been thinking about that conversation ever since. Because most of us will never know the full impact of the small things we do. One conversation gives someone a new way to understand themselves. That person brings that understanding into another relationship.
A teacher sees a student differently.
A physician asks a different question.
A parent responds with curiosity instead of correction.
A partner pauses before assuming intention.
And the ripple keeps moving.
This week, my new book, The Misunderstood Mind officially went out into the world.
And here’s why I hope you’ll help create some ripples of your own:
The world we’re trying to change is the same world you and the people you love have to live in.
The teacher who learns to recognize a different way of thinking may someday teach your child or grandchild.
The physician who develops a more nuanced understanding of neurodivergence may someday be sitting across from you.
The therapist who questions what they were taught may better understand your relationship.
The person who picks up a book at the library may recognize themselves—or finally understand someone they love.
Every time we help someone see neurodivergence differently, we make our own communities a little more informed, a little more curious, and a little more capable of understanding minds that work differently.
And none of that requires doing something big.
Here are a few small ways you can start a ripple:
📚 Ask your library to carry it
This may be the easiest way to put the book into the hands of people you’ll never meet.
Most public libraries allow patrons to recommend books for purchase, often through a simple form on their website. If your library doesn’t have The Misunderstood Mind, request it. One request could put one copy on one shelf.
But that one copy can be borrowed over and over again—for free—by people in your community for years.
That’s a pretty big ripple.
🏪 Ask a bookstore to put it on the shelf
Have a local bookstore you love? Ask them to carry it.
You don’t need to convince anyone. You can simply tell them you’d like to see The Misunderstood Mind in their neurodiversity, autism/ADHD, psychology, relationships, or parenting section.
Someone you’ve never met may eventually pick it up because you asked for it to be there.
🎁 Put a copy into someone’s hands
Think about the people in your own world who influence how neurodivergence is understood.
I’m giving copies to some of my own physicians. You might give one to a therapist, teacher, physician, family member, partner, school counselor, employer—or someone who’s trying to understand themselves.
You don’t need to change someone’s mind. Sometimes you just put good information within reach.
📖 Suggest it for your book club
A book club creates something especially valuable: conversation.
Suggest The Misunderstood Mind to your existing book club—or gather a few people and create your own discussion around it.
Because a book read by one person can change one perspective. A book discussed by ten people can change ten perspectives at once.
And download the free PDF of discussion questions I’ve created for book clubs at
💬 Tell someone about it
This costs nothing. Send someone a link. Mention the book in a conversation. Share something you learned from it. Recommend it when someone tells you they’re struggling to understand their own brain, their partner, their child, their student, their patient, or their colleague.
You may never know what happens afterward.
And if you’ve been waiting to get your own finished copy of The Misunderstood Mind, hardcover, paperback, and ebook editions are now available at your favorite online retailer.
For the past five weeks, we’ve been reading this book together here.
Now let’s put it into the world.
One shelf. One conversation. One person at a time. 💛