In Rooms of Resonance

In a room of intricate beings—writers, artists, poets, conversationalists, activists, dreamers, revolutionaries—you can also find me.

Sometimes, I'll be in a corner by myself, my head buried in a book. Other times, I'll sit at a table, sketching the view from my imagination. Sometimes, I'll play the role of voyeur, snapping photos and documenting all that intrigues me. I find beauty in the simplicity of inconsequential objects. Sometimes, those inconsequential objects become the backbone of an entire canvas of ideas.

Most of the time, though, my role is the hostess. I sashay around the room where all eyes are on me. You'll find me in the thick of conversations, philosophizing, debating, and sharing ideas, hopes, and fears alike. I love conceptualizing and collaborating, finding the ice to my fire, and the spring to my autumn. I love human connection, even though it burns through my energy reserve as quickly as a fiery sunset.

I don't have a favorite role. I enjoy the interchange between my extroverted and introverted nature and abstract personality. I live within the moment, and that determines what version of myself I give, even though that can make me appear unpredictable. I've learned over time that unpredictability can sometimes be misunderstood as inauthenticity. Most neurodivergent people are multidimensional. That isn't a reason to write our diversity off as us being phony.

Extroverted, introverted, neurodivergent... it doesn't matter what the labels are: I love being in rooms where energies match intentions and like-mindedness serve as community. For some of us, it gives a sense of family where otherwise there's an absence.

This weekend was spent in those kinds of rooms. I was with artists on Friday, academic writers and anthropologists on Saturday, and queer activists on Sunday. Although I spent a lot of extroverted coins, there was also a great sense of balance because I also invested in rest in between socializing. There was stillness, space, purposeful silence, and self-care amid the shots of espresso and congeniality. It felt good to sink into both worlds—and both versions of myself—simultaneously.

And because of it, I feel re-energized—ready for the week ahead.