My journey into the world of twice-exceptionality began not as a clinician, but as a mother — one desperate to understand her child. I wrestled with reconciling the paradoxical qualities I see in him. How could a child who struggled so much with reading, writing, and focus memorize encyclopedia facts and cry for the homeless man he sees on the street? With each diagnosis, dyslexia, ADHD, and gifted, the puzzle pieces fell into place. I learned that my son is twice-exceptional – a term that was, until recently, foreign to me. As a clinical psychologist trained to dig deeper, I researched and read. As I immersed myself into the world of 2e, I was struck by two simultaneous truths: first, that my son was not alone; and second, that far too many families like mine had no idea this concept even existed. Particularly in Asian communities, twice-exceptionality is often unheard of. Children who struggle in school but demonstrate exceptional strengths are mislabeled — lazy, defiant, or simply “not trying hard enough.” These misunderstandings mirror my own childhood. I was raised in a traditional Vietnamese household where academic achievement was paramount. You were either smart, stupid, or lazy. I was deemed the latter two. The shame of feeling not smart enough and being misunderstood became embedded in my identity, fueling a lifelong drive to prove my worth — and unknowingly masking my own twice-exceptionality. With help, I have begun to reckon with the possibility that I, too, am a twice-exceptional person — a gifted adult with high-functioning ADHD, inattentive type. The realization was nothing short of transformational. I finally had language for the paradoxes I’ve lived: how I could be so driven and insightful, yet so scattered and overwhelmed. How I could hold deep empathy and perspective, yet feel like I was always falling short. This personal reckoning has made me a better psychologist, mother, and advocate. It deepens my commitment to supporting 2e individuals — particularly those who, like me and my son, exist at the intersection of cultural invisibility and neurological complexity. It is not enough to understand giftedness through the traditional lens of achievement or IQ. We must understand the emotional, social, and identity-based struggles that come with being gifted and different. Twice-exceptional individuals often carry a deep loneliness — a sense that they don’t fit neatly into any one box. Their strengths can overshadow their challenges, leading to lack of support. Or their challenges eclipse their gifts, causing educators and even parents to miss their brilliance. The mental health toll of this chronic misunderstanding is profound: anxiety, depression, perfectionism, self-doubt, and a fragmented sense of self are all too common. As a Clinical Psychologist with a psychodynamic, relational, and trauma-informed lens, I specialize in working with high-achieving professionals — many of whom now appear to be unidentified 2e adults. I see the heartbreak of giftedness misunderstood, of brilliance burdened by shame. I help clients untangle the internalized messages that they are “too much” and “never enough.” My mission is both personal and professional. I want to change the narrative in communities where learning differences are pathologized, hidden, or dismissed. I want to bring visibility to the inner lives of gifted individuals who struggle silently. And I want to equip parents, educators, and mental health providers with the language and tools to recognize and nurture these extraordinary minds. We need a broader, more compassionate framework for giftedness — one that makes space for complexity, contradiction, and diversity. I am honored to be part of that change.