Embrace the X

Between Meltdowns and Magic

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  • Embrace the X: Why I’m Starting This Blog

    Welcome to Embrace the X! If you’ve found your way here, you might be wondering what this blog is about, and why I decided to start it. So let’s dive right in: my story, my thoughts, and the motivation behind this project.

    Who I Am

    I’m 26 years old, hold a master’s degree in healthcare management and economics, and will soon start a new job in insurance and contribution law. My life has never been a straight path—not just because of my choices, but also because of factors beyond my control. I’m autistic, I have ADHD, and I was born with Monosomy X, also known as Turner Syndrome or Ullrich-Turner-Syndrome.

    If you’ve never heard of it, I’m not surprised! It’s a rare genetic condition that primarily affects women, with a wide range of possible impacts. For a long time, I struggled to understand why I felt so different. Why things that seemed easy for others could completely overwhelm me. Why I could hyperfocus and excel in some areas but crash over simple everyday tasks. Over time, I realised: It wasn’t because I was too sensitive or lazy, I was simply neurodivergent.

    Why a Blog?

    The name Embrace The X represents exactly that: embracing diversity, both my own and that of others. X can stand for many things: the unknown, genetics (like the X chromosome in Turner Syndrome), or the variable that makes us unique.

    I decided to share my experiences because I know how lonely it can feel when you don’t fit neatly into categories. When diagnoses only tell part of the story. When you exist in between, neither neurotypical nor “disabled enough” to always receive support.

    This blog will be a space for:

    Honest insights into life with AuDHD (autism + ADHD), Monosomy X, and the challenges that come with them.

    Strategies and tips that help me manage my energy and navigate daily life.

    Reflections on society, work, and inclusion because misconceptions about neurodivergence are everywhere.

    Funny and beautiful moments because while being neurodivergent can be exhausting, it can also be wonderfully absurd.

    Change as a Constant

    Right now, I’m in the middle of a major transition: I’m moving from Bremen into a smaller town near Hamburg and starting a new job. Change is always a double-edged sword for me. On one hand, I’m excited for new opportunities. On the other, it brings chaos and uncertainty, something my brain doesn’t handle well.

    One of the reasons I’m moving is to find more peace and stability, and to better manage sensory challenges. But I’m not doing it alone, my beloved partner is moving in with me, making this transition even more meaningful. I’m excited for this new chapter together, even though we both know that settling into a new place will take time and patience.

    We’ll also be bringing along my two beloved pets:

    • Maya (Mayo), my 6-year-old cat, who has recently developed a fascination for cardboard boxes, but only if they have bananas printed on them.
    • Milo (Bibo), my 3-year-old dog, who swings between being the cuddliest creature ever and a total whirlwind of chaos and energy.

    This dynamic mirrors my own experience: moments of deep focus and need for structure, constantly interrupted by a brain that loves to jump in every direction at once. Living with both autism and ADHD means balancing these two extremes every single day.

    Sometimes, I see Maya as the autistic side of me, calm, focused, and selective about what she engages with.

    Milo, on the other hand, embodies the ADHD chaos, the impulsiveness, the excitement, the constant shifts between hyperactivity and exhaustion.

    What to Expect Here

    I don’t have all the answers. I’m not a coach (maybe not yet?) or a guru claiming to have the perfect solutions. But I am someone who reflects, experiments, and openly shares my experiences. Maybe you’ll recognise parts of yourself in my stories. Maybe you’ll find new perspectives.

    But whatever brought you here and I’m glad you found Embrace the X.

    Feel free to share your thoughts, experiences, or questions. And of course: Embrace the X – just as you are.

  • Embrace The X: A Gentle Note on Control

    What happens when we stop gripping so tightly?

    There’s this quiet, invisible thread that has run through most of my life: control.

    It started early, maybe in childhood, maybe even before I had the words to name it. I feel it as a need to make sense of things and to manage what feels too big, loud or unpredictable.

    For someone like me, who is navigating life with Ullrich-Turner Syndrome, AuDHD, and a body that often does things in its own mysterious rhythm, control felt like the only tool I had. But sadly I had little to no control on what happened externally.

    I was not allowed to decide what I wanted to wear for school and had to wear what my mum made me wear until I was 14 years old. I wanted to wear big shirts and soccer tricots, but my mother made me wear more “socially acceptable” things. They were not bad, let me be clear here, but that just wasn’t me!

    I just recently realised where I use control mechanisms and thought I might share this with you. I organized, I planned, I masked and I micromanaged my schedule, my social energy, even my tone of voice. Masking, Fawning and Overdoing was the only way I knew to not get criticised.

    I built routines that kept me going when nothing else did. I crafted safety with checklists, rules, and rituals (which I suck at adhering to, which makes it eben harder). Until last year, I mistook for personality traits what clearly are survival mechanisms.

    But lately I’ve been asking myself:

    What would happen if I didn’t have to hold it all so tightly anymore?

    What if I didn’t need to plan every second of my day to be “productive enough”?
    What if I stopped editing myself so much in conversations, afraid of being “too much” or “not enough”?
    What if I let the laundry pile grow one more day and rested instead?
    What if I let go?

    In romantic relationships, things get even more complicated. I stress over things I KNOW are not important but I can’t seem to let go. I know that nobody cares is the dishwasher is emptied right after it finished or if the clothes are hung back directly after they dried. As I had a meltdown one evening after a long and stressful workday, my partner sat down with me and we talked about why these things seem so very important.

    It became clear that almost never in my life I was in control. Doctors tell me about my diagnoses, so called friends gave clear instructions on what to do and what to like. I didn’t even had the chance to find out what job really could fit my needs. I was always told what to do and what to wear, and I cooperated because I didn’t want so upset anybody. This leads to hidden anger very often, and I didn’t understand that either. I just knew I was very, very mad, but I never knew why, because it seemed like I have everything under control.

    Let me tell you: Control is not the same as safety.

    It feels like safety, especially when you’ve learned that unpredictability often leads to pain, overstimulation, shutdowns, disappointment, judgment, misunderstanding.

    For many of us, control is what allowed us to function in environments that were never designed for our needs. It helped us navigate neurotypical expectations in school, at work, in relationships. It helped us survive chronic invalidation, health challenges, or being perceived as “difficult” when we were simply different.

    Control kept me upright, but it also kept me disconnected from myself and from my body’s cues, spontaneous joy, real intimacy and true rest. I think my need for control stole my ability to live in the present moment.

    I was friends with people who weren’t really interested in me. I had to function like the leader of the group wanted me to, and everyone else was too afraid. But that was kind of predictable. I knew what I had to to, what to expect and how to behave. Sadly they left me when I started to voice my needs. I was trying to actively control what happens and had to face the bitter truth that some friendships come with clear expectations. 

    🌧 So, what now?

    I don’t want to throw away all structure. My planner still brings me peace. Lists help me externalise executive function and get things off my mind sometimes. My rhythms and rituals are sacred when they’re flexible.

    The big difference is:

    I’m learning to ask myself:

    🌀 Is this structure supporting me?

    🌀 Or am I shrinking myself to fit it?

    I really hope letting go doesn’t mean letting life fall apart. I hope it means allowing life to happen without editing every second of it.

    I hope it means trusting that my body knows what’s best for me. That not everything has to be prepared for, predicted, prevented and that it’s okay to be in progress.

    Sometimes control is a trauma response or a strategy with it’s rots in autism or ADHD

    It may be an echo from childhood. But sometimes, it’s just… fear dressed up as certainty.

    And when you notice that (with gentleness, not shame) something begins to shift.

    📝 Journaling Prompts

    1. What part of my life do I feel most afraid to let go of control in?

    2. Where do I confuse control with safety?

    3. What parts of my daily routine feel nourishing, and which ones feel rigid or draining?

    4. What do I fear might happen if I stopped trying so hard?

    5. Can I remember a moment when letting go actually led to something beautiful?

    Until next time – stay messy, mindful and magical ✨

    Embrace the X

  • Strawberry People: The Safe Hearts I Choose

    When I stumbled across the concept of strawberry people, I became really engaged. Maintaining friendships has always been hard for me. So I did what I had to do and did a deep dive into that topic and re-organised the contacts in my phone.

    I read about strawberry people in the book “Unmasking Autism” by Dr Devon Price. He shared the story of a neurodivergent person marking trusted friends with a 🍓-emoji on their phone.

    These friendships aren’t about obligation or constant contact. they are about emotional safety, trust, authenticity. Why a strawberry? Because strawberry’s are soft, sweet, and rare in a world that often expects resilience like steel. So choosing your strawberry people means choosing relationships where you can be exactly yourself.

    Reflecting on My Own Strawberry People:

    • Friends I never felt I had to perform for
    • The ones who stayed close during shutdowns or chaos
    • The voices that reassured me “you are worthy” even when I felt broken

    These friends taught me that friendship can be nourishing, not draining.

    I started to think about friends I still have and about people I’ve lost over the years. There are some people I disappointed and I really had to take a moment to let that sink in. But to be a better and authentic friend, I have to learn to communicate my needs and look after myself.

    I also realised that some people I thought were my friends drain me or treat me wrong without me even realising. When I start fawning and people pleasing, I am not an authentic friend and I am giving away energy that can be used so much better, especially when you are chronically ill and energy is therefore limited.

    Contacts in my phone now look like this:

    • 🧸 (name) – these are my core people, the strawberries
    • 🌸 (name) – a soft contact. Someone I can talk to, but I don’t need to share everything
    • 🚧 (name) – energy draining people, but there is still contact. I can take my time to answer
    • 🖇️ (name) – information only, no personal details
    • 🌀 (name) – chaos zone. I am not quite sure yet

    What really blew my mind is that I automatically thought “oh, person (name) needs to be in this group” when I found that the contact is draining and I feel bad afterwards. This simple change of how I save people in my phone showed me that I can make decisions based on my energy level and on things that are important for me instead of obligations. Because I am autistic and really struggling at the moment this helps me find my way through social interactions and look after myself. It helps me decide if I really have to feel bad for not answering or if this text might be important right now.

    I reflected on people I have a good relationship with, but want to spend more time with or engage more in general. So right now I am thinking about an extra category for that. As you can see, you can build your own system and it flows with your needs in time. As long as it serves you (please don’t spend too much time on finding “the perfect system“), that’s totally fine.

    Journaling Prompts:

    • Who in my life feels safe even when I am not at my best?
    • Who doesn’t demand explanations or masking?
    • How can I nurture those connections with gratitude?

    Until next time – stay messy, mindful and magical. ✨

  • Soulful Sunday “Soft Isn’t Weak”

    I used to think
    my softness was a shame
    too many feelings
    too easily overwhelmed
    too slow to keep up
    with a world that rushed

    But now I know
    my softness is survival
    it notices the hush
    before a storm of noise
    it hears the heartbeat
    of a tired sky
    and smells the change
    in morning light

    Softness
    is knowing when to rest
    instead of push
    it is choosing
    care over comparison
    peace over performance
    presence over perfection

    And when I soften into myself
    I find
    I was never too much
    I ws simply too tender
    for a world
    that forgot how to feel.

    Until next time – stay messy, mindful and magical. ✨

  • Soulful Sunday: “Becoming Me”

    I tried to fit, to walk in line
    to wear a mask that wasn’t mine

    I echoed words, ignored the spark,
    hid my light within the dark

    But I was never ment to bend,
    to lose myself
    just to pretend

    Now I walk my own true way
    whole an real
    no need to sway

    Until next time – stay messy, mindful and magical. ✨

  • Dear Little Me – A Letter to My Younger Self With Ullrich-Turner-Syndrome

    Dear Little Me,

    You’re holding so much more than anyone can see.
    You’re brave just for waking up each day and walking into a world that often misunderstands you.

    You don’t have the words yet for what you feel – the quiet confusion, the moments of shame, the deep desire to just be “normal.”
    But I want you to know something:

    There was never anything wrong with you.

    The doctors will talk about your chromosomes, your hormones, your heart.
    They’ll tell you that you’re “different.”
    But they won’t always tell you this:
    You are whole. Entire. Enough.

    I know that sometimes you feel too slow, too emotional, too left behind. I know you wonder why other girls seem to fit into their bodies and their lives so easily.
    You don’t see yourself in magazines.
    You don’t see your story in books.
    But here’s the thing: you are a story worth telling.

    One day, you’ll stop apologizing for taking up space.
    You’ll meet people who see you – not despite your softness, your scattered thoughts, or your quiet aches, but because of them.

    You’ll learn to say “no.” You’ll learn to rest.
    And even when it still hurts, you’ll give yourself grace.

    If I could sit beside you now, I’d hold your hand and say:
    Your body is not broken.
    Your pace is not wrong.
    You are not alone.

    Keep going, little one. You are growing in all the right directions, even when it feels like standing still.

    With all the love in the world,
    Your future self

    Journaling Prompts:

    • What would you tell your younger self with love and honesty?
    • What do you wish she had heard more often?
    • Can you offer that voice to yourself now? 

    Until next time – stay messy, mindful and magical. ✨

  • Ullrich-Turner-Syndrome: Things I Wish I Knew Earlier

    When I was younger, I didn’t even know that I had something called Ullrich-Turner-Syndrome (UTS). I just knew that I felt different — in ways that weren’t always visible, but always real. Looking back, there are things I deeply wish I’d known earlier.

    Things that could have saved me pain, shame, and the feeling that I had to push through everything alone. This isn’t about blaming my parents – they did their best with the information and tools they had. But it’s also important to say: there are things they didn’t take seriously. And I wish they had.

    Things I Wish I Had Known Earlier

    1. UTS Is Not Just About Height. As a 12-year-old, I thought it was just about being short. That was the one visible thing people noticed. But UTS affects nearly every organ system and involves a complex mix of hormonal, physical, neurological, and emotional challenges. (📚 Source: Bondy, C.A. (2007). “Care of Girls and Women with Turner Syndrome: A Guideline of the Turner Syndrome Study Group.” The Journal of Clinical Endocrinology & Metabolism.)

    2. Executive Function & Mental Load Struggles Are Part of It. It took me years to realize that my difficulty with organizing, planning, and emotional regulation wasn’t a personal failure – it’s common in people with UTS. (📚 Source: Hong, D.S., Dunkin, B., Reiss, A.L. (2011). “Cognitive and neurological aspects of Turner syndrome.” Current Opinion in Neurology.)

    3. You Can Have a Normal-Range IQ and Still Struggle. One of the most invalidating experiences is when people assume you’re fine because you’re “smart.” UTS-related challenges are often invisible and misunderstood, especially in social settings or under stress.( 📚 Source: Gravholt, C.H. et al. (2017). “Clinical practice guidelines for the care of girls and women with Turner syndrome: proceedings from the 2016 Cincinnati International Turner Syndrome Meeting.” European Journal of Endocrinology.)

    4. Medical Care Should Be Coordinated and Lifelong. I wish someone had explained the need for long-term, interdisciplinary medical support. Cardiology, endocrinology, fertility – UTS affects it all. Early hormone therapy can make a difference not just physically, but also emotionally. (📚Source: Turner Syndrome Society of the United States – www.turnersyndrome.org)

    5. It’s Okay to Grieve the Things That Are Different. I spent so long denying my needs or pretending things didn’t hurt. But grief is valid – whether it’s about infertility, delayed puberty, or feeling socially behind. It’s not self-pity. It’s healing.

    Things I Wish My Parents Had Taken More Seriously

    • My emotional and social struggles. I wasn’t just “shy” or “sensitive.” I needed understanding, tools, and support.

    • The importance of early hormone therapy and screening. Almost all medical appointments got delayed or dismissed — out of fear, denial, or overwhelm.

    • My right to know and see specialised doctors. I wish they had talked to me earlier and openly. It’s my body and my life.

    • The impact of invisibility. Just because I wasn’t “severely” affected in every way doesn’t mean I didn’t need accommodations, therapy, or reassurance.

    Journaling Questions for You

    • What are things about your condition or identity that you wish you’d known earlier?
    • Have there been times where your needs weren’t taken seriously? How do you make space for them now?
    • What would you tell your younger self if you could?

    Until next time – stay messy, mindful and magical. ✨

  • Soulful Sunday: “Mayo’s Mystery”

    A queen upon her cardboard throne,

    but only if bananas are shown.

    Silent, watchful, soft yet wise,

    a world reflected in her eyes.

    Her taco plushie, snug and near,

    her cherished toy, her constant cheer.

    She picks her rules, she sets the tone –

    Mayo’s world is hers alone.

    Until next time – stay messy, mindful and magical. ✨

  • Friendships That Hold Space – Even When You Can’t Show Up

    Some friendships are loud and constant – and that’s beautiful.
    But the ones I treasure most these days are the quiet ones.

    The ones that gift you a puzzle with your “special interest” on it – without even knowing what an autistic special interest is and by far not that you are autistic (although… looking back some things were quite obvious). You just freaking love manatees and they love you.

    I am so thankful for the ones where months can pass and nothing feels broken.

    Where a single check-in says more than a dozen calls.

    Where “I love you” sounds like “no pressure”, “take your time” and “I know how your brain works – and I like it that way.”

    It’s a very special gift to have friends invite you over just do to a puzzle with manatees on it. Nothing more. Well, of course, cuddling the cats and dogs around.

    These friendships hold space instead of expectations.
    And in a world that often asks too much, they feel like home.

    Until next time – stay messy, mindful and magical. ✨

  • Digital Detox & Reclaiming Real Presence

    In our hyperconnected world, rest isn’t just about sleep – it’s about mental space. A wellness practice that has transformed my life is intentionally disconnecting. Not forever, but just long enough to reconnect with myself.

    Think about it: how often do you reach for your phone without thinking? How often do you scroll when you’re actually overwhelmed, tired, or emotionally drained?

    This isn’t a guilt trip. It’s an invitation to pause, to notice your body, your breath, and what’s happening around you.

    A digital detox doesn’t need to mean a week in the woods.

    It can look like:

    • Turning off notifications for a few hours.

    • Choosing paper over screen for your journaling.

    • Leaving your phone in another room during meals.

    • Having a no-screen morning or night once a week.

    When I started practicing these little resets, I noticed more of everything: my thoughts, my feelings, the colors in the sky. Even my dog Milo’s little sighs when he falls asleep next to me. That’s presence. That’s healing. Give your nervous system the gift of unplugged moments.

    You don’t have to disappear from the world. Just find a way to show up for yourself again

    ✍️ Journaling Prompts:

    • What emotions do I feel when I’m offline? Relief? Anxiety? Peace?
    • When was the last time I felt truly present in my body?
    • What does enough rest look like in a digital world?
    • Where in my day can I carve out 10 minutes of tech-free space?

    Until next time – stay messy, mindful and magical. ✨

  • Discovering My Diagnoses & Learning to Say No

    For a long time, I carried the quiet feeling that I was living life on “hard mode.” I couldn’t keep up the way others seemed to.

    Everyday tasks left me drained. Social situations felt confusing, overstimulating, and exhausting.

    When I finally got my diagnoses (Autism, ADHD, and Ulrich-Turner-Syndrome) things began to click. Suddenly, there was a reason for the overwhelm, the meltdowns, the sensory struggles, the mental exhaustion from trying to fit in.

    It felt like someone handed me a map of my own mind. And it showed me a very important detour: Learning to say no.

    No to pushing past my energy. No to social pressure. No to constantly proving myself.

    Instead, I started saying yes to myself.

    Yes to quiet mornings. Yes to noise-canceling headphones. Yes to fewer commitments and more peace. Healing began with permission to pause.

    I had to unlearn my habit of people-pleasing.
    I had to start trusting myself, even when others didn’t understand.
    And I had to remind myself: boundaries aren’t rejection, they’re protection.

    Healing isn’t linear. But one of the biggest steps was allowing myself to rest.
    To pause. To breathe. To be.

    And my best reminder of that?

    Milo, my snuggly little whirlwind.

    A little chaotic, endlessly cuddly reminder that love doesn’t demand more than I can give.

    On the days I doubt myself, Milo curls up beside me and breathes deeply, like he knows:

    “This moment is enough. You are enough.”

    Some of the biggest healing lessons come with fur, love, and naps on the couch.

    And in this new chapter, I’m not only discovering my diagnoses. I’m discovering me.

    Until next time – stay messy, mindful and magical. ✨