My heart behind this abyss.

When choosing a name for this website, the phrase Chronically Misunderstood (a token I’ve come to adapt) felt like the perfect fit for the space I am creating.

For as long as I can remember I have carried the weight of being misunderstood. It’s been a constant ache of being misread, misheard, or in some cases completely missed. In friendships. In relationships. In conversations where my brain, ears, and mouth weren’t always on the same page. This ache is not something that will go away, it’s part of my wiring and the disconnection between me and seemingly everyone around me.

Specifically, the word chronic is not something I take lightly. I fully understand the weight it carries—especially for those living with chronic illness and pain. People I know and love carry that weight, and though I can’t relate to the pain or sickness they experience, I can relate to the insufferable loneliness that comes with feeling like it will never end.

I use misunderstood a bit more freely, though. Because although the feeling may never fully go away, I have come to terms with the idea that no amount of overexplaining will ever fix it.

And while this specific post felt necessary to share, I did not create this space to try to chase understanding, but to add a chair or two in the void of chronic misunderstanding—in whatever capacity that may fit for you.