Lock in, Rebel.

This letter is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to write as a neurodivergent business owner.

I f*cked up. I failed. I made 100s of mistakes. 

And it was all by design.

When I took the leap to go full-time freelance almost 5 years ago, I had no plan, no strategy, no clients, no money. 

I was depressed, undiagnosed, and desperately seeking freedoms I didn’t believe I deserved.

To put it bluntly: I had zero interest in this thing called life.

But I knew the only way to break out of rock bottom was through.

And the only way through was up, so I had nothing to lose.

It worked. And yet I wouldn’t take a leaf out of my book if I were you.

👉 I built my “personal brand” 

(whatever the heck that means anymore)

👉 I showed up daily and didn’t let fear hold me back

(and ended up fully booked as a freelance copywriter)

👉 I travelled the world as a journalist 

(for House of Coco magazine)

👉 Was intro-ed to the creative team at Meta 

(thanks to posting on LinkedIn constantly, urgh)

👉 Ended up working on some of the biggest global campaigns for the past 2.5 years

(Zuck’s socials, Instagram for Business, Ray-Ban Meta, Meta AI, Quest, etc.)

Was it working my ass off every hour of every day to prove I’m worth something?

I ask myself these questions daily. 

All I do know is that I was trying to spin all the plates at once, terrified I’d slip and end up smashing every midair opportunity that was pirouetting above my head.

As a result, my freelance business became unsustainable with just me at the helm.

I’m grateful for this era. I found one of my truest ride-or-dies. We fought dragons together, and then I got to celebrate her wedding with her last May.

But both of us came to the same conclusion in our lives.

Something still didn’t feel right.

See, I hate, nay, I utterly despise hustle culture. 

Not because I can’t hack it. I have hacked it, and it hacked me into smithereens. 

Hannah and I used to talk about our working relationship. How I’d be up in the clouds, brimming with ideas, and it was her motherly logic that would bring me back to earth so we could execute.

But from a literal working perspective, and why the whole “make money, hustle till you die” mantra just leaves me wanting to rip my eyeballs out…

The wild reality is that 50% of hiring managers wouldn’t feel comfortable hiring someone who is neurodivergent (City & Guilds, Neurodiversity Index, 2023)

Then, the unfathomable realisation that 52% of neurodivergent professional in the US do not feel comfortable disclosing their condition at work, with fear of stigma being the main reason (CIPD, 2024)

DO YOU KNOW WHAT’S BLOODY DIABOLICAL?

The stratospheric dichotomy that 45% of C-level executives and 55% of business owners self-identify as neurodivergent (Forbes, 2025)

So, cool cool coool coooool coool cooooool, the system is rigged against us?

Running a business is the only way to be “successful”?

But I have never had the desire to build a big, sexy business with a swanky office and a team that made me feel like I mattered. 

As for burnout:

80% of autistic people are experiencing chronic burnout lasting 3+ months (Stats submitted to UK parliament)

That’s where I found myself back in 2023, having desperately clawed myself up from rock bottom and doing anything in my power not to crash back down.

And for a short, recent while, I fell back into the all too comfortable trap of “consistent income” even though I knew I’d eventually meet my maker once more.

The cost? I lost my entire identity.

Now it’s February 2026. I slept for 12 hours last night and have spent a good chunk of Jan doing the same.

I’m still not fully recovered.

I’m never going back to the “PLEASE VALIDATE ME” narrative, when most “validators” couldn’t validate a pumpkin in a pumpkin farm, darling.

To make the world a little freakin’ better than we found it.

I care about the Rebels, not the fake-it-till-you-make-it hustlers. 

The creative aliens, not the creative carbon copies.

The misfits, not the show-offs with a star-spangled title.

Useless. Messy. Chaotic. 

Not made for this planet.

Trapped.

Desperately seeking a village that gets it.

Has it led to a fair few moments of sabotage? Maybe. But I never burned a bridge I ever intended to cross again.

Sunk cost fallacy will always be that to me:

a fallacy.

So, in 2024, I said bye-bye to “agency” and hello to REAL agency and autonomy.

In public. Taking messy action. Starting before I was ready.

Before I knew what the fuck I was doing.

Before I had a strategy. 

I spent more money than I had, offered far more than I could, and said yes more than I should.

I pivoted like I had Chandler Bing screaming in my ear 24/7 (yep, sleepless nights became the norm.)

One of my founding Rebels and now Studio moderators, Zac, beautifully reshaped my POV on this one, though:

And through the hurricane of year zero, the sun finally broke through the clouds.

As the light shone across the creative village I had built, there stood my army of founding Rebels by my side.

Exhausted, hanging on by a thread, and still no less burned out than in 2023, I had done 5 years’ worth of work (testing, testing, attention please…) in a single year (all while working full time as a creative strategist at Meta.)

Despite the endless failure, I had 1000% done the thing I set out to do:

Help people.

For a few long and heavy moments, that broke me. 

But anyone who has kept the lights on in a business or their sanity in check will tell you that you can’t help everyone.

So here I am, vowing never to attempt it again. 

Instead, I want to draw a line in the sand and carve a path forward, hopefully reaching those who need it most.

But before I do…

I’m sorry for not doing this quietly.

I’m sorry for flip-flopping my way across social feeds and inboxes.

I’m sorry for not waiting to launch until everything could be perfectly executed.

I’m sorry for being too loud with the business that I built from the messy action that I took to help the Rebels that I knew I could help.

If it takes some random, messy, AuDHD creative alien like me making all the mistakes you fear and showing you all those failures publicly to help you realise that you don’t have to wait for the perfect time, you just have to take messy action, then I’ve also done my job exactly as intended.

Welcome to the new era of me: the badass creative rebel who isn’t hiding anymore.

Welcome to the new era of Studio Sonder: the community for rebellious writers and storytellers who refuse to silence their voices.

And just possibly, welcome to the new era of you: the era where you stop waiting and start taking messy action.

If you’re a rebellious writer or storyteller, you’ve found your village.

If you just want a gentle nudge to help you eventually do the thing, hang around as long as you need.

If you want to lurk or pick apart my mess to help you feel better about your perfectly curated, but never actioned, life, I love you too. 

Enjoy the unfiltered chaos. 

And as always…

Keep taking messy action daily,

Founder & Creator in Chief | Studio Sonder Creative Community

P.S. Just launched our sexy new website (I made it, so it’s likely broken in places), but here’s the full cinematic story: