Your Neuroverse

This Morning Was Rough. TikTok was banned in the U.S. today, and I naively thought it wouldn’t affect me. But it did. I can’t access it, not even through a Ukrainian phone number. Living here in Ukraine, I’ve Googled potential reasons for the block but found no answers. For now, I’ll let it be and wait alongside the rest of my fellow Americans. In the meantime, I registered on Rednote, the Chinese version of the platform. How ironic.

While I can admit that I’ve been using TikTok as a crutch in some ways, it also provided me with a community—a space where neurodivergent individuals like me gathered, now shaken by the looming ban. Social media has always been a double-edged sword. It has distanced us physically yet connected us in ways we couldn’t have imagined. For many, it isn’t about building huge followings but about feeling less alone, even while surrounded by people.

I’ve tried the whole “be authentic, and people will like you” philosophy. Let me tell you—it doesn’t always work. There’s only so much authenticity you can show to those around you before the word spreads: you’re “weird,” “rude,” or “stuck-up.” Suddenly, people form opinions about you without ever truly knowing you.

But on TikTok, I found something different. I saw people embracing their quirks, being direct, honest, and unapologetically themselves. They shared their stories, their struggles, their truths, and said, “It’s okay. I see you. I feel you. I understand.” And even though these people didn’t know me, I felt heard and seen. It taught me that community isn’t confined to your immediate surroundings. Family doesn’t have to be blood, and physical presence isn’t necessary to feel less alone.

What hurts the most about TikTok being banned, though, is losing the connection it gave me to you, my girls. Every time I posted a silly video, I waited patiently for you to wake up or get home from school to watch it, to like it. It felt like a way to be present in your lives, even from afar. Every like from you felt like a random hug in the middle of the day or a small reminder of our bond. I don’t know how you feel about it, but for me, it was deeply personal and meaningful.

I wish we’d done more together. I wish we’d taken videos, learned dances, and made goofy lip-sync clips. I wish we’d shared more of those moments. But life is funny that way—you only wish for these things when it’s too late.

I’ve tried to remind myself of this truth: time is precious. But in the moment, there’s always this sneaky feeling that there’s more time—until there isn’t. And now, I regret being so foolish and wasteful with the time I had with you. I want it back so desperately. I want to rewind the clock, to relive as many moments with you as I can. From the day you were born to the day you left, just sixteen days ago.

Ultimately, my anger stems from regret. Regret for wasted time, for my own incompetence, ignorance, and lack of self-awareness that robbed me of opportunities to live the beautiful life I always dreamed of. I wanted to foster healthy relationships, build a loving family, and be the best mom and partner I could be.

But life doesn’t work that way. I can’t manipulate time. All I can do is learn—learn from the past, live in the present, and grow for the future.

Timelessly loving,
XO Mom