About Mars

Meet Mars 🚀

"Had we just known..."

The Journey to Understanding

I was 31 years old when someone finally put a name to what I'd experienced my entire life.

In 2019, after years of collecting diagnoses like badges—ADHD, anxiety, depression, a handful of others—I underwent a full psychological assessment. The psychologist looked at me and said, "You are just as autistic as you are ADHD. And you are severely ADHD."

It felt like a blow. Another label. Another thing "wrong" with me.

But I wasn't ready to sit with it. The diagnosis sat in a file somewhere while I continued masking, burning out, and wondering why life felt so impossibly hard.

The Awakening (2023-2024)

It took me until 2023 to actually register what that diagnosis meant. To start learning about autism. To see myself—truly see myself—for the first time.

This late-in-life diagnosis changed my entire world.

Suddenly, my struggles were valid. The sensory overload that made grocery stores feel like torture? Not weakness—neurology. The social exhaustion after trying to "act normal"? Not antisocial—masking fatigue. The meltdowns, the shutdowns, the times I couldn't speak? Not character flaws—autistic experiences.

But with validation came grief: Had we just known... How much suffering could have been prevented? How many struggles were unnecessary? How different might my life have been with proper support from the start?

Two Autistic Minds, One Journey 🌌

I became a mother at 16. My son and I grew up together, navigating a world that felt foreign to us both. For years, we knew he had what doctors called "severe ADHD"—but we didn't have the full picture.

It wasn't until after my own autism diagnosis that the pieces fell into place for him too. So much of what we'd been doing—the routines we built, the accommodations we created, the ways we understood each other without words—we'd been accommodating his autism all along without realizing it.

Raising him without a proper diagnosis was hard. We fumbled in the dark, inventing strategies, trusting our instincts. But we found what worked. We built our own mission control.

Today, I am most proud of who he's become: kind, compassionate, courageous, and willing to remain teachable. Those qualities didn't happen despite our neurodivergence—they happened because of how we learned to see the world differently together.

Why Space Cadet Collective? 💫

I kept thinking about all the resources we didn't have. The understanding that might have made our journey easier. The community that could have told us: You're not broken. You're just wired differently.

I started Space Cadet Collective because I want to create the safe harbor my son and I built for each other—and extend it to everyone who's ever felt like they're orbiting a different planet.

My vision is simple but radical: A world that accepts differences. A world that understands autism isn't a curse—it can be a gift. We need help in some ways, yes, but we can help neurotypical folks in other ways. We all have something to offer.

What drives me is the belief that no one else should have to hear "had we just known" and feel that particular ache of preventable suffering.

Beyond the Advocacy 🌟

Based in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, I'm a 37-year-old woman business owner, lifelong learner, and proud space cadet.

My special interests include:

• Jiu-jitsu (where I can be in my body without thinking)
• My bearded dragons (perfect low-demand companions)
• Reading and writing (words are my favorite stim)
• Binge-watching shows on Netflix and other streaming services
• Gardening (sensory heaven)
• Making puzzle boxes and glassworking (hyperfocus paradise)

Academic background: I hold dual bachelor's degrees in Philosophy and Sociology, an associate's in Criminal Justice, a bachelor's in Psychology, and a master's degree in Cognitive Neuroscience. I spent years studying how brains work before I finally understood my own.

The Vision 🚀

In five years, I see Space Cadet Collective as a thriving hub where:

• Thousands of neurodivergent people find community and support
• Resources are freely accessible to those who need them
• Peer support networks span the globe
• Advocacy efforts create real systemic change
• No one has to figure it out alone anymore

Success looks like this: A young parent getting their child diagnosed early because they found our resources. Someone in recovery finding peer support that understands their neurodivergence. A person discovering they're autistic at 50 and finally understanding their whole life. Communities becoming more accessible, more compassionate, more neurodivergent-affirming.

The legacy I want to leave is simple: A world where no space cadet has to navigate alone. Where every neurodivergent person knows they've been an astronaut all along.

Join the Mission 🚀

Whether you're just discovering your neurodivergence, decades into your journey, or supporting someone who is—there's a place for you here.

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