NLD and Radical Acceptance
Before we begin, I want to acknowledge that what follows contains sensitive material. I will be speaking openly about sexual abuse, family estrangement, and the emotional work of radical acceptance. If you have experienced similar trauma, or if you are in the process of coming to terms with something in your life that cannot be changed, please take care of yourself while reading.
Radical acceptance is one of the hardest concepts I’ve had to live through. It’s the process of fully accepting reality as it is—without fighting it, without trying to change it—especially when the situation is deeply painful and unfair. For me, this journey began with my sexual abuse disclosure and the way my family responded.
The Disclosure
When I told my family about the abuse I experienced, I expected a certain kind of reaction—support, outrage, protection. Some people did respond that way. My immediate family, close friends, and a few extended family members believed me and stood by me. But most of my extended family didn’t.
They took my cousin’s side. They believed his version of events, or worse, they thought I shared some responsibility for what happened. That betrayal was almost as painful as the abuse itself.
The truth was, I didn’t even understand what he was doing to me at the time—not until my mom explained it after I told her. I knew it was wrong as I got older, especially when my cousin told me not to say anything because “we’d both get into trouble.” That was the turning point for me. I realized I was the only one who could make it stop. And so I told my mom.
In the end, I didn’t get in trouble at all—he did. In that moment, in 2008, I became my hero.
The Long Road of Healing
Healing wasn’t instant. It took years—five solid years of therapy starting at age twelve, plus more later. I learned techniques to help manage nightmares, including lucid dreaming. I learned to recognize triggers and to separate my identity from my trauma.
During the pandemic, I returned to therapy for two more years, this time focusing on my Nonverbal Learning Disorder (NLD) and the leftover wounds from my past.
Despite all the progress, one truth remains: my extended family—the perpetrator’s family—has had no contact with me since my disclosure. Fourteen years of silence. No apologies. No acknowledgment. I’ve missed watching my cousins grow up. There’s an unspoken “elephant in the room” whenever the past is indirectly referenced.
That’s where radical acceptance comes in. Accepting that this will never change has been both heartbreaking and freeing.
The Weight of Estrangement
Estrangement is a strange kind of grief. It’s not a single event—it’s the absence of what should be there. I see other people with close extended families, and it stings. Even if someone were to apologize now, it wouldn’t matter. It’s too late to rebuild what was lost.
I’ve made peace with the fact that this is my life until the day I die. After all, I’ve been living it for fourteen years already. But the sadness never fully disappears. Sometimes it’s a quiet ache; other times it hits hard—especially when something reminds me of what I’ve lost.
Dating, for example, often brings up old wounds. A partner will talk about spending time with their extended family, and it reminds me of when I had that closeness and how quickly it was taken away. I am still close to the relatives who believed me, but the others? I rarely think about them unless I’m triggered.
Understanding Radical Acceptance
Radial acceptance isn’t just for surviving trauma like mine. People practice it for many reasons:
Accepting the death of a beloved pet.
Coming to terms with the loss of a loved one.
Accepting the end of a relationship or marriage.
Letting go of a career or job you loved but lost.
It’s about facing reality when you desperately want it to be different—and finding a way to live well anyway.
For me, that means focusing on what I do have: a loving immediate family, a loyal dog, friends who care about me, and a job I enjoy. My podcast has been a huge part of my healing. Creating it has deepened my understanding of NLD, strengthened my relationships, and given me a platform to help others. It’s a space where I can share my story honestly and hear from others who are navigating their own.
Triggers and Awareness
One thing I’ve learned is that radical acceptance often requires knowing what triggers you. For me, the reminders come in conversations about family closeness, certain anniversaries, and unexpected encounters with people from my past. Recognizing these triggers helps me manage my emotions before they overwhelm me.
Some changes in my life after the disclosure were horrific—but they also made me stronger. They taught me how deceptive people can be when they’re hiding wrongdoing, and how to see through the veil they try to place over the truth.
Moving Forward
If you’re facing something in your life that will never change, I encourage you to think about how you might radically accept it. For some, the path forward is focusing on gratitude—reminding yourself of the good that still exists alongside the pain.
Therapy has been essential for me. I’ve had seven years total, and I know firsthand that it can change your life if you approach it with openness and commitment. Without a healthy mind, finding true peace and happiness is incredibly difficult—but it is possible.
Final Thoughts
Radical acceptance doesn’t mean you approve of what happened. It doesn’t mean you stop feeling pain. It simply means you stop fighting against reality and start living fully in the life you have now.
My journey with NLD and radical acceptance is still ongoing. It’s likely something I’ll work on for the rest of my life. But I know this: I have survived. I have grown. And I am still here, telling my story.
If you’d like to connect with me, you can find my work at livingwithnld.com or on Facebook and Instagram under Living with NLD. I welcome emails from anyone with lived experience of NLD who would like to be interviewed for the podcast: livingwithNLD@gmail.com.
Your differences are part of you—but they don’t have to hold you back. Practice noticing your gifts alongside your challenges, and see if there’s a way to make those challenges easier to carry.
