Looking back, I don't regret asking questions. I regret the moments when I stopped asking them too soon.

Some of my greatest growth has come from remaining curious just a little longer. Long enough to hear another perspective. Long enough to challenge an assumption. Long enough to realize that my first understanding wasn't the complete picture.  

I've come to believe that curiosity isn't measured by the number of questions we ask. It's measured by our willingness to let the answers expand our thinking.

Perhaps that's why I no longer think of belonging as an initiative. I see it as a leadership practice. Every conversation, every decision, and every response to an unexpected challenge communicates something about what it means to be part of our organization. Over time, those small moments quietly answer a question that many people carry with them, whether they ever speak it aloud or not: Do I still belong here?

There are decisions I would normally not make alone. There are situations I would typically bring to her. There are moments where alignment would be the natural next step. In this season, I am making those decisions, or I am supporting someone else who is.

When we reduce neurodivergence to a single axis, we lose sight of the complexity that actually matters. We also risk mistaking visibility for severity, or ease for capacity. The scatter tells a more honest story. One that leaves room for variation without ranking it.