If you've spent any time on ADHD TikTok, Instagram, or Reddit, you've probably had the experience of hearing someone describe ADHD symptoms and thinking:

"Wait...everyone doesn't do that?"

At the same time, many ADHD symptoms look surprisingly similar to burnout.

At some point, many people find themselves asking the same question:

"Am I asking for too much?"

Maybe you've asked for more communication.

More affection.

More quality time.

More accountability.

More intimacy.

More effort.

And after enough disappointment, enough arguments, or enough self doubt, you start wondering whether the problem is your expectations.

If you are coming out later in life, questioning your sexuality, or wondering if you might be queer in your 30s, 40s, 50s, or beyond, I want to start with this:

You are not behind.

You are not broken.

And no, you did not “miss it.”

Recently, while traveling, I passed a billboard that said, “Pick Jesus or the Easter Bunny. Not both.” I felt my stomach tense for a moment. Not because the message surprised me, but because of what it represents. It reflects the pressure many people grew up with, the expectation to choose the right path, the belief that joy or playfulness somehow competes with spirituality. It reminded me how often people were taught that there is only one acceptable way to exist, celebrate, or belong.

Have you ever caught yourself saying yes when you really meant no? Maybe you notice yourself managing other people’s feelings, apologizing constantly, or avoiding conflict even when something really matters to you. Maybe you leave conversations feeling resentful, exhausted, or like you disappeared somewhere along the way. If this sounds familiar, you may be experiencing the fawn trauma response.

As a sex therapist, this is one of the most common questions people bring into therapy. It usually comes with a lot of uncertainty and often a quiet fear about what the answer might mean. Is it me, or is it us?

If you’ve watched Bridgerton, you might remember the careful way characters talk around sex. One phrase that stands out is the idea of reaching a “pinnacle.” It’s a euphemism, sure, but it’s also a surprisingly useful one. Because for many people, that pinnacle can feel distant, confusing, or completely unreachable.

In Part 1 of this series, I wrote about depression that shows up when the world feels like it’s on fire. Not the kind of depression that comes from one specific loss, but the kind that settles in when stress, fear, and uncertainty never really let up. What I want to name more directly here is this: for many people, especially marginalized communities, the world feeling “on fire” is not a metaphor. It is personal. It is lived. It is happening to you and the people you love.

Romance novels and sexually charged stories are often dismissed as silly, indulgent, or embarrassing. But from a sex therapy and mental health perspective, reading smut can be regulating, empowering, and deeply validating. It can also be a meaningful way to explore desire without pressure, performance, or shame.

At Valid Love, we notice something every January. People come in feeling conflicted.

The New Year is supposed to feel hopeful. Motivating. Clean.

But for many people, it feels heavy, emotional, or quietly overwhelming.

If that is you, we want to say this clearly. Nothing is wrong with you.

Morality is one of those things we’re all taught to consider as we grow up. Be good. Do the right thing. Treat people well. But for folks who live with Morality OCD (also called “moral scrupulosity”), that normal human desire to be a decent person can turn into a relentless internal surveillance system. Instead of guiding someone toward their values, it traps them in fear, self-criticism, and doubt about whether they’re “good enough” at all.

he holiday season can bring magic, comfort, and the soft glow of connection. At the same time, it can stir up memories, tension, and emotional overwhelm, especially for people who carry trauma histories. This time of year tends to magnify everything. The joy feels brighter. The pressure feels heavier. The old wounds feel closer to the surface. For many clients and families I work with, the phrase “family gathering” does not bring up images of laughter and warmth. Instead, it brings a sense of bracing for what might come next.

If you live with ADHD and feel like you are constantly managing other people’s emotions, you are not alone. Many people with ADHD find themselves stuck in codependent relationship patterns without realizing it. You might feel responsible for keeping the peace in your relationships. You might jump into caretaking or people pleasing when someone around you is stressed. You might give more than you get. These are common signs of codependency, and when ADHD is in the mix, these patterns can feel even stronger.

Every year, as the days get shorter and the sky looks a little heavier, many people start to feel a shift in their mood. You might notice you are more tired than usual, or you suddenly feel overwhelmed by things that were fine a month ago. Maybe you feel yourself pulling away from loved ones or sinking into habits that make you feel disconnected. Seasonal depression is common, but a lot of people have a hard time noticing it until they are already deep in it. And if you already live with stress, anxiety, relationship strain, or the emotional load of caring for others, the seasonal shift can feel like someone quietly added more weight to your shoulders.

Have you ever felt like your brain is on overload and your body is buzzing with tension, even when nothing is wrong? Many people confuse anxiety with overstimulation, and it’s easy to see why. Both can leave you exhausted, restless, or ready to hide in your car just to get a minute of quiet. Understanding the difference helps you respond with compassion instead of self-criticism, and that’s where real calm begins.

Many people experience some irritability or mood changes before their period. But for some, the emotional and physical symptoms are so intense that they interfere with work, relationships, and daily life. This is not “just PMS.” It may be Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder, or PMDD.

Living with a chronic illness means waking up each day and navigating a body that does not always cooperate. Pain, fatigue, brain fog, or unpredictable symptoms can reshape how someone moves through the world. Yet what often goes unseen is how chronic illness impacts mental health, not only because of physical limitations but also because of the social and emotional messages surrounding disability itself.

There is something uniquely heavy about trying to keep your head above water when it feels like the entire world is sinking. War. Climate crisis. Injustice. Mass shootings. Political chaos. It feels like every time you check the news, something new is burning. And then there is your own life: bills, relationships, health, exhaustion. The pain of just existing.

If you are someone who lives with depression, this kind of global weight can feel unbearable. And if you are someone who has never struggled with your mental health before, you might be finding yourself caught off guard by just how exhausted and low you feel.

This blog is for you.

Hi there. If you’re here, you might be wondering whether sex therapy can help you or someone you care about navigate intimacy, sexuality, or connection while living with a neurodivergent brain. Whether you have ADHD, autism, OCD, sensory sensitivities, or just find that your experiences of sex and relationships don’t look like what’s portrayed in mainstream culture, you’re not alone.

As a sex therapist, I’ve worked with individuals across a wide spectrum of identities and experiences. One issue that continues to surface in both subtle and profound ways is sexual violence. While it affects people of all backgrounds, sexual violence has a particularly complex and often under-discussed impact within the LGBTQ+ community.