When a bad headline blames Tylenol for autism, L2’s had enough.

This is her blistering, hilarious takedown of pseudo-science, mom-shaming, and the politicians who thrive on both.

It starts with keyboards, ends with capitalism, and somehow makes perfect sense in between.

Click play, have a listen, and then check out her Stan Store.

https://stan.store/elletwo

Mentioned in this episode:

Build Your Better course

Build your better course - https://stan.store/elletwo/p/build-your-better

Wanna learn to write like me?

Here's how you can!

Writing Course

My Brain Short-Circuits for This

I have a confession.

For someone who claims to be a relatively smart, responsible human and someone who can calculate numbers, analyze situations, run a business, and (at least sometimes) do 'The Adult Things', I have one irredeemable weakness.

We’re talking a 'lose the thread of reality, babble in vowel sounds, and forget my own name because, oh my gooood' kind of weakness.

Why am I telling you this? Because in this episode of Different, Not Broken, I pull back the curtain on my not-so-secret life as a highly functional adult who simply cannot function when this one piece of (adorable) Kryptonite is present in my life.

But this episode is more than just confessions of the thing that makes me gooey. It's an honest exploration of what it means to embrace what makes our brains different.

Press play. Your pack is waiting.

Have you visited the Stan Store yet? - https://stan.store/elletwo

Mentioned in this episode:

Build Your Better course

Build your better course - https://stan.store/elletwo/p/build-your-better

What if everything you think you know about occupational therapy (OT) is… not quite right?

Here’s a confession: until recently, I thought OT was just glorified PT for your arms. Someone stands you up, hands you a toothbrush, checks a box, and off you go back to life, hopefully less miserable.

Turns out, that’s not even close.

In this episode of Different, not Broken, I, Lauren Howard (aka L2), sit down with the very person responsible for blowing up everything I thought I knew: Jayna Niblock. She leads our OT efforts and, frankly, if there’s ever a Hall of Fame for affirming neurodivergent care, her (sensory-friendly, weighted) cape deserves to be on display.

Let’s hit pause on everything you’ve heard about adult autism care. Because what actually happens after an adult diagnosis? Not much, honestly. There’s a chasm—no bridge, barely a ladder—between finally knowing you’re not “broken” and actually figuring out how to live as yourself in a world designed for, well, not you.

Spoiler: the aftercare programs that support adults who’ve lived decades masking, muddling through social scripts, wondering why life feels like pushing a boulder up Mount Neurotypical, do not exist. (Except now, they kind of do, and Jayna’s at the center of it.)

But what is OT for adults, especially for neurodivergent adults? It’s not about workplace “occupations,” and it’s definitely not just “PT from the waist up.” We talk about what “affirming” OT truly means—because trust us, not all therapy is created equal. We break down how “meaningful engagement” is radically more important (and therapeutic) than any checklist. Cookies, margaritas, grandkid snuggles—sometimes the route to healing starts with the things people actually care about, not the ones prescribed by someone who just met you.

Jayna gets real about why so much of the OT world hasn’t caught up to neurodivergent realities, and what an education (not treatment) program can unlock for adults desperate for answers after a lifetime of feeling “othered.” Plus: why most information out there (hello, TikTok) is validating but not always actually, you know, evidence-based.

And then there’s the stuff NO ONE TELLS YOU about sensory processing as an adult. Like why your eyes work in mysterious ways even after every eye doctor swears you’re “fine.” Or why “touch” isn’t just about what fabric you like, and brushing your teeth means something different for everyone.

We also get into the messy, beautiful, lifeline-level importance of consent, motivation, and adapting “therapy” to what matters for real people, not just what looks good on an insurance form. (Hint: if getting up in the morning for yoga is torture, you’re allowed to say no. Here, consent isn’t optional, it’s foundational.)

Maybe you’re wondering: why should YOU listen?

Listen if you were ever told you’re “normal now”—but it sure doesn’t feel like it. Listen if you believe neurodivergent adults deserve more than DIY diagnosis and crowdsourced therapy from social media. Listen if you want to know what care could actually be when it’s crafted for us, by us, with us. Listen if you want to hear two humans occasionally tearing up because, yeah, dignity in healthcare shouldn’t be this rare.

You’ll walk away with a radically new understanding of OT, equipped with ideas, hope, and probably a newfound appreciation for doing things your way—whether that’s baking cookies, mixing a margarita, or advocating for yourself in a doctor’s office full of “experts” who still haven’t figured it out.

No spoilers, but don’t miss Jayna’s answer to “if you could snap your fingers and create the OT system every neurodivergent adult should have…” (We’re not crying, you’re crying.)

Different, not Broken is for everyone who’s spent a lifetime feeling like the system wasn’t built for them—because, newsflash, it wasn’t. And we’re here to change that.

Come...

Infertility isn’t just a medical diagnosis — it’s a daily ache that reshapes how you see yourself, your relationships, and even good news from people you love.

In this raw, unfiltered episode, I'm opening the hell up about four years of unexplained infertility, pregnancy loss, the jealousy nobody admits out loud, and why asking “When are you having kids?” can quietly devastate someone.

If you’ve been there, you’ll feel seen. If you haven’t, you’ll understand why silence, empathy, and better questions matter.

Have a listen. It might just make you feel better about all... that *gestures wildly at everything*

Oh, and check out all the other ways in which I can support you, here. https://stan.store/elletwo

Mentioned in this episode:

Build Your Better course

Build your better course - https://stan.store/elletwo/p/build-your-better

Boomers love secrets!

I said it. Maybe you flinched reading that—maybe you’re nodding along, feeling it deep in your bones, the way “don’t tell anyone” was as common in your house as “finish your peas.” This episode is for every person who grew up in a family where “put on a smile” was mandatory, pain was packed neatly away, and no news—good or bad—ever left the front door until it was passé.

I’m Lauren Howard (L2). Here’s the deal: I was raised by a Greatest Generation dad and a very boomer mom. Our home? “Curated” was not an Instagram aesthetic, it was a lifestyle. Major life events? Hush-hush. Fights? Don’t you dare let the neighbors know. Moving across the country? Tell no one—not even the kids, until a for-sale sign is basically in your face.

Fast forward to adulthood, and I’m the one who “shouldn’t tell,” but thirty seconds later I’m blasting my life out to the internet. It’s a push-pull dance between inherited silence and radical honesty—a lifelong project of untangling which secrets keep us safe and which just keep us isolated.

WHY LISTEN?

• If you're part of the cycle of "boomer secrets" and want to break the shame around pain and joy.
• If generational expectations shape your willingness to be open about your struggles, and you want to over come them.
• If embracing your whole self, not just the curated parts would improve your life.

Click play. Let’s un-curate, together.

Breakups Aren’t Just for Lovers: Why Losing Neurodivergent Friends Hurts So Damn Much

We don’t talk enough about the heartbreak of losing neurodivergent friends. For many of us, those friendships feel deeper than family. And when they end, the grief can be worse than any romantic breakup.

This Different Not Broken episode dives into the messy, under-discussed reality of neurodivergent friendships: why they click so intensely, why they sometimes vanish without warning, and why the grief lingers for years.

I'm doin' it. I'm getting real and raw, sharing my own story of losing a best friend—the late-night phone calls that suddenly stopped, the milestones missed, the ache that outlasted every past relationship breakup.

Why listen?

• If you’ve ever lost a neurodivergent friend and felt like no one understood how deep it cut.
• If you’ve wondered why friendship grief can feel sharper than heartbreak.
• If you’re tired of being told to “get over it.”
• Or if you just want to feel seen.

Because friendship breakups aren’t just side notes—they’re real grief.

And for neurodivergent friends, that loss can shake your world.

Hit play for a necessary, validating reminder: you’re not broken for hurting this bad.

Mentioned in this episode:

Build Your Better course

Build your better course - https://stan.store/elletwo/p/build-your-better

Nine years.

That’s how long it’s been since my dad died.

Nine years of breathing around a space that never refills.

Nine years of being a parent without my favorite example of maternal energy.

Nine years of mothering, leading, starting a business, and still, on some days, needing to remind myself that “different” is just that—different, not broken.

Welcome to an episode that will mess with your pause button.

It’s about love, loss, empathy, and the complicated math of moving forward when someone who powered your entire operating system just isn’t here anymore.

(Spoiler alert: Siri has nothing on my dad’s emotional support iPhone.)

This is the story I didn’t know if I’d ever share with a mic.

I’ve written about this.

I’ve skirted around it in essays, offered tiny slices in speeches, and let it simmer in my private thoughts. But speaking it out loud? That’s a whole other layer of irreverence and vulnerability.

Qualities my dad basically trademarked.

Mentioned in this episode:

Build Your Better course

Build your better course - https://stan.store/elletwo/p/build-your-better

I've never been able to tell left from right.

There! I said it.

I’ll probably say it again at least fourteen times before breakfast tomorrow.

My brain has never clocked the absolute 'well, obviously' of which direction is which.

But... plot twist... that’s not a problem.

It’s just different. And that difference taught me a hell of a lot more about myself, my family, and resilience than any workbook, life hack, or well-meaning suggestion of a trick to try and solve it.

If you’ve ever felt that friction of being handed a supposedly 'easy' trick (“just write it on your hands, Lauren!”) only to realize it helps exactly zero, or if you have a kid whose way of being in the world defies every sharp-edged box marked “normal,” you’ll want to tune in.

This week on Different, not Broken, I'm unpacking how difference (not “defect”) steered my entire trajectory: in school, on the playground, behind the wheel (left? right? Eh…), even into how I parent my own kids.

This episode has it all - weird brains, unlabeled hands, toppling off monkey bars, and the rest: welcome to the soft, shameless, science-y, supportive corner of the internet.

Listen in, bring your questions, and, if you figure out which way is left, DM me.

Or don’t. Because my brain still won't see it.

Hit play. Let's celebrate our 'different'.