The Small Wins That Deserve a Standing Ovation (Even If Only from My Dog)

 

For 47 years, I walked around with this gnawing feeling that I was broken. Not in the "my arm's bent the wrong way" kind of broken, but the quieter, sneakier kind—the kind where you feel like you're just not wired right for this world. Like everyone else got a user manual, and you’re trying to decode life with IKEA instructions written in Klingon. 

Turns out, I wasn’t broken. I was just undiagnosed AuDHD (Autistic and ADHD) and trying to live in a world built for neurotypicals without the benefit of knowing I had a different operating system. That misunderstanding — for decades — bred a heaping helping of shame. Why did normal things feel so hard? Why did I keep burning out, why couldn’t I finish projects the way others seemed to do effortlessly, why did making a phone call feel like sawing a tree with a butter knife? 

The relief of finally getting a diagnosis is one part “Aha!” and one part “Wait, you mean I wasn’t just lazy, flaky, or broken this whole time?!” So here I am, well into my 40s, learning the revolutionary act of self-compassion. Not the Instagrammable, rose-petal-bath kind (though honestly, I’d try it). I'm talking about the gritty, daily practice of accepting who I am — not as a fixer-upper — but as someone whose brain just functions differently. 

And maybe, just maybe, that's not a bad thing. I’m also learning how to work with my brain instead of engaging in a WWE grudge match against it. And part of that work means allowing myself to celebrate wins — even the ones that might seem microscopic from the outside. 

Because for folks like me, these “small” things? They’re actually superhero-level feats. So, here are a few victories I’m planting a flag on: 

💙 Getting my Bachelor’s degree in under three years. On the surface, it sounds impressive. But what it doesn’t say is that I did it while running on fumes, juggling burnout, executive dysfunction, and an ever-looming sense of “what if I fail?” I didn’t even know what AuDHD was yet — I just knew it felt like my brain kept dropping all the balls while juggling flaming swords on a unicycle. But I made it. 

💙 Being present for my kids every single day — even when my emotional tank was dryer than a popcorn fart. There are days when getting out of bed feels like a feat of strength. But I’m there. I show up. I listen to their stories about Minecraft or whatever creature they’ve decided to become that day. And I call that a win. 

💙 Doing a post-party cleanup, making some awkward phone calls, and handling a schedule curveball — without melting into a stress puddle. A neurotypical might shrug this off. Me? I threw myself a private five-minute happy dance in the kitchen. (The dog was concerned. The cat judged. I kept dancing.) 

💙 Making real, meaningful friendships. This one still shocks me sometimes. Relationships often feel like playing a game where I never learned the rules, but somehow I’ve found people who get me — even if I occasionally talk over them or miss a cue because I thought their rhetorical question was an invitation to deliver a TED Talk. 

💙 Learning how to stim, self-regulate, and give myself what I need — long before I knew why I needed it. Sometimes your body knows before your brain does. I thought I was weird. Turns out I was surviving. 

💙 Cooking meals for my family multiple times a week. It doesn’t thrill me. It’s not dopamine candy. It’s more like… broccoli. But I do it. I show love in the form of tacos and spaghetti and the occasional “oh no, it’s just leftovers” night. And I remind myself: done is better than perfect. 

💙 Managing creative teams even when my social battery is flashing red. I've led people through projects while wrestling communication delays and imposter syndrome. And I care deeply. Even if I need to hide under a blanket afterward.I've been a program director, event organizer, and creator of many projects with a team.  

💙 Gamifying boring tasks before I even knew that was a legit coping strategy. Points for brushing teeth? A sticker for every email answered? Yes, please. Neurotypical productivity hacks are cute. I’ve been building boss battles just to do the dishes for years. 

💙 Turning creative obsessions into art, podcasts, articles, and performances. Some never make it out of the idea stage — perfectionism is a sneaky beast. But more and more, I’m letting the messy, wonderful stuff exist. And when someone connects with it? That’s the real magic. 

💙 Doing the hard work — therapy, meds, self-reflection — even when quitting would be easier. Growth isn’t linear. It’s a lava lamp. But I’m still showing up. And that’s something. 

These things may not earn me a trophy or a viral TikTok (although my “neurodivergent dad tries to fold a fitted sheet while overthinking the existence of time” content could be niche gold). But I’m learning to be proud of them anyway. 

To my fellow neurospicy humans: don’t let the world tell you your wins are small. If it took everything you had just to show up today — whether that meant showering, sending an email, or simply not screaming into the void — I see you. And I’m cheering you on. 

What’s something you once thought didn’t count as a “real” win… but now you know is worth celebrating?