EverGrowth Haven

09/30/2025

AuADHD & EverGrowth Haven

I didn’t grow up hearing the word AuADHD.
I just grew up feeling different. Too loud. Too quiet. Too much. Too scattered. Too intense. Too sensitive. Too… everything.

Finding out that I live at the crossroads of Autism & ADHD has been both relief and grief.
Relief — because suddenly the puzzle pieces click into place: the way I process the world, the sensory overload, the hyperfocus and burnout cycles, the deep empathy mixed with social exhaustion.
Grief — because I realize how long I spent believing I was broken when I was just wired differently.

And the thing is:
Doctors didn’t explain this. Systems didn’t guide me here. I had to fight, research, and trust my own lived experience to find language for what I feel.

That’s why I created EverGrowth Haven.
It’s not therapy.
It’s not a “fix yourself fast” program.
It’s a community space where neurodivergent humans — especially those who are still piecing together their story — can show up as they are. We talk openly, we share strategies, we laugh about the weird stuff, we sit with the hard parts. We don’t rush to slap on labels or force a single “right” way to heal. We learn together. We grow, at our own pace.

If you’re late-diagnosed, self-discovering, or just tired of feeling like an alien in your own life, you belong here.

✨ EverGrowth Haven — because sometimes what we need most isn’t fixing; it’s finding each other.

















(even if it’s sideways)

09/10/2025

09/09/2025

https://www.facebook.com/share/19g41er4KV/

09/06/2025

And Then There Was Tomorrow

What if this is the day—
the one you swore you’d recognize—
and you still almost miss it?

What if the phone rings
and you let it—
because your hands are wet,
because your heart is tired,
because you’re not ready for whatever waits on the other end—
but you answer anyway
and it’s no one special,
just life
being loud,
being ordinary,
being the exact opposite of the miracle you ordered.

And you still have to show up for it.

What if the apology never comes?
What if it does—
but it’s too clean,
too tidy,
not messy enough to match the scar?
And you don’t forgive them,
but you can’t hate them either,
and you hate yourself for that.

What if the thing you prayed for
shows up too late—
limping,
half-starved,
asking if there’s still room for it at your table?

And you just stand there,
thinking of all the dinners you ate alone,
the birthdays you didn’t celebrate,
the names you stopped answering to—
and you don’t know if you want it anymore,
but it’s here,
and your hands won’t stop shaking.

And what if—
just what if—
tomorrow isn’t better.
But you are.

What if the world keeps shattering,
but you learn where to stand
so the glass doesn’t cut as deep?

What if all this pain
wasn’t a wrong turn
but the road itself,
the only road,
and you finally stop fighting it—
not because you’ve given up,
but because you’re curious
where it leads?

And what if tomorrow comes
and nothing has changed—
except you
standing there,
daring it
to try again.

09/05/2025

A child who overhears their parents arguing is not just learning about anger.
They are taking a masterclass in how the two people they love most handle disagreement, stress, and repair.

You wish they never heard it. You feel the sting of shame.
You think the argument itself is the damage.
The hard reality is this:
The conflict is not the most important part of the lesson. What happens next is.

Do you retreat into icy silence for days? Do you pretend it never happened?
Or do you come back together? Do they see you apologize, listen, and reconnect?
They are watching your every move, learning the blueprint for every future relationship they will ever have.

A child who only sees fracture without repair learns that disagreement is a fatal blow.
This creates an adult who is terrified of conflict.
But a child who witnesses an apology and a hug learns the most powerful lesson of all: that love is not the absence of conflict, but the courage to repair it.

Let them see you fix it. The argument taught them about the storm. The repair will teach them how to build a boat.

Author: Arsalan Moin

09/02/2025

When the World Starts Showing You Faces

I tied up my shower curtain today, tossed a towel on the rack behind the door — and there they were.
Faces.

Not just smudgy, maybe-if-you-squint kind of faces. I’m talking clear, detailed faces staring back at me from folds of fabric and lines of shadow.

Here’s the part that really gets me: I’m not the only one who sees them.

When I showed a picture to my friend Aisha, she didn’t even wait for me to explain. She just started describing the same faces I saw. And in that moment, it shifted from “maybe I’m just imagining things” to this is real enough that someone else can stand here with me in it.

Why That Shared Moment Matters

There’s a term for seeing patterns in random objects — pareidolia — and sure, science says it’s just our brain trying to make sense of the world.

But when someone else sees what you see, it stops being just an internal quirk.
It becomes a shared lived moment.
A reminder that we’re connected — not just to the world, but to each other.

That’s powerful.

A Different Kind of “Education”

Here’s the thing: whether you see this as spiritual, scientific, or just cool brain stuff, there’s something to learn here.

Our minds crave meaning. We’re wired to find patterns.

Validation matters. Having someone else witness your experience can turn doubt into connection.

Noticing is a skill. The more we look, the more we see — and that changes how we relate to our environment.

So no, this isn’t just about me and my bathroom curtain.
It’s about the little ways the world speaks to us — and how meaningful it feels when someone else says, “Yeah, I see it too.”

08/31/2025

"Say Your Own Name" — A Weird but Science-Backed Trick

Ever catch yourself saying your own name when things get messy?
Like, “Okay, Melle, breathe.”
Turns out, that little habit is more than just quirky — it’s one of the simplest, most science-backed ways to calm your brain down.

Researchers have found that talking to yourself in the third person (using your name instead of “I”) helps you step back from whatever storm is happening in your head. It creates just enough distance that your brain can see the situation clearly — like watching a movie instead of being stuck in the scene.

Even better, it doesn’t take extra mental effort. Your brain simply calms down faster and gives you a clearer way forward.

Why It Works

Regulates emotions without making you overthink.

Creates perspective — you see yourself as you’d see a friend.

Builds wisdom and better decision-making over time.

How to Try It

Next time you feel overwhelmed, pause and say your name out loud:

> “Melle, you’re safe. You can handle this.”

It might feel strange at first, but it’s a powerful reset button.

Want to read the science for yourself?

Scientific Reports Study – Shows third-person self-talk reduces emotional reactivity without extra cognitive effort.

MSU/UMich Press Release – Easy read about how it works.

Psychology Today Overview – Breaks it down for everyday life.

08/17/2025

I built a house for love to grow
I was so young that it was hard to know
I'm as lost now as I was back then
Always make a mess of everything
It's about time that I face myself
All I do is bleed into someone else
Painting walls with all my secret tears
Filling rooms with all my hopes and fears

But oh my, oh my
I'll never learn if I never leap
I'll always yearn if I never speak

To be loved and love at the highest count
Means to lose all the things I can't live without
Let it be known that I will choose to lose
It's a sacrifice but I can't live a lie
Let it be known, let it be known that I tried

I'm so afraid but I'm open wide
I'll be the one to catch myself this time
Trying to learn to lean in to it all
Ain't it funny how the mighty fall?
Looking back I don't regret a thing
Yeah, I took some bad turns that I am owning
I'll stand still and let the storm pass by
Keep my heart safe 'til the time feels right

But oh my, oh my
I'll never learn if I never leap
I'll always yearn if I never speak

To be loved and love at the highest count
Means to lose all the things I can't live without
Let it be known that I will choose to lose
It's a sacrifice but I can't live a lie
Let it be known

Let it be known
that I cried for you
Even started lying to you
What a thing to do
All because I wanted

To be loved and love at the highest count
Means to lose all the things I can't live without
Let it be known, known, known
That I will choose, I will lose

It's a sacrifice but I can't live a lie
Let it be known
Let it be known that I tried, that I tried
Let it be known that I tried

-Adele

08/16/2025

If I was the magical, inner peace fairy, with the abilities to grant you any 3 wishes,. What eoild they be?

08/11/2025

Abandonment is not just someone leaving you.
It’s not always a door slamming shut or footsteps walking away. Sometimes, abandonment is silent. It’s the slow, invisible erosion of your emotional safety. It’s someone consistently failing to meet your needs, dismissing your boundaries, or minimizing your experiences. It’s the pain of watching someone you love detach from you while still being physically there.

It’s someone who stops trying, who stops asking how you’re doing, who stops noticing when your smile no longer reaches your eyes. It’s when they forget your favorite things, stop showing up for the little moments that matter, and treat your presence like an afterthought instead of a priority.

It’s the confusion of hearing, “I love you,” while simultaneously feeling unloved. It’s being told you’re overreacting when your heart is aching. It’s giving your all and receiving breadcrumbs. It’s staying up all night wondering what you did wrong when the truth is—abandonment isn’t always about what you lacked, but about what they refused to give.

Abandonment is not just someone walking out the door.
It’s someone who makes you feel invisible while sitting right next to you. It’s someone who withholds affection, support, and effort while expecting your loyalty, your energy, and your love in return. It’s someone who doesn't fight for the relationship, who lets the connection die slowly, and still calls it love.

True abandonment isn’t just physical absence—it’s emotional neglect, mental detachment, and spiritual disconnection.
It’s the ache of being alone in someone’s presence, the heartbreak of loving someone who made you feel like too much and never enough at the same time.

And the worst part?
It makes you question your own worth, when it was never about your value—it was about their inability to love you the way you deserved.