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Welcome!
I'm Cristina Collins.

Maybe you've spent years being described as smart but scattered. Sensitive. Too much. Not applying yourself. A little different. Or maybe you've always appeared perfectly capable from the outside while quietly wondering why everyday life seems to require so much more energy from you than it appears to require from everyone else. I know parts of that experience from the inside. For many girls and women, neurodivergence isn't recognized early. Instead, they may spend years collecting explanations for themselves that never quite fit: anxious, dramatic, lazy, difficult, too sensitive. Eventually, those words can become part of how you see yourself. I'm interested in helping you get curious about whether there are more accurate ones.

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The Girl Who Was Failing

I have ADHD, but nobody knew it until I was in high school. As a kid, I spent a lot of time in a dreamworld inside my own head. It was vast, imaginative, and endlessly entertaining — a place I could disappear into for hours. School was different. If something didn't capture my interest, getting myself to do it could feel nearly impossible. I procrastinated, lost things, forgot things, missed assignments, and was constantly disorganized. But when something fascinated me? I was all in. By my sophomore year, I was failing most of my classes and facing being held back. I kept hearing the same thing: "You're smart. If you would just apply yourself..." I wanted to. I just didn't know how. Over time, words like careless, lazy, forgetful, and aloof became the way I saw myself. I carried a lot of shame, wondering why I couldn't do the things that seemed to come so naturally to everyone else. That summer, my mom sent me to military academy hoping it would "fix" me. Instead, something life-changing happened: Someone finally became curious about me. Counselors and teachers recognized that something else might be happening and began helping me understand how my brain actually worked. Structure. Routines. Reminders. Timers. SMART goals. And my beloved daily to-do lists. It felt like I'd discovered the cheat code to my own brain. The girl who was nearly held back eventually earned a bachelor's degree, two master's degrees, and is now pursuing a doctorate. I didn't suddenly become smarter. That curious, imaginative, deeply focused brain had been there all along. I stopped fighting my brain and started learning how to work with it. That experience changed the way I see people. When someone has spent years believing they're lazy, difficult, too sensitive, or simply not trying hard enough, my first instinct isn't to ask what's wrong with them. I become curious about how their mind works and what they may have needed all along.

Asking The Question In Midlife

For most of my life, I thought ADHD explained everything. And in many ways, it did. But there are pieces of me ADHD can't quite account for. The sensory overwhelm. The intensity with which I experience certain things. The way I can disappear into a subject for hours and forget to eat. The exhaustion that comes from environments other people seem to move through easily. So after years of helping other people understand themselves, I found myself asking a new question about me: Is there something autistic in here too? For most of my life, I thought ADHD explained the way my brain worked. But there are parts of myself I've become curious about beyond ADHD: the sensory overwhelm, the intensity with which I experience certain things, the way I can disappear into a subject for hours, and the exhaustion that comes from environments other people seem to move through easily. Eventually, I found myself asking a new question: Could autism be part of my story too? I don't have a definitive answer to that question. I've completed a number of screening and self-report measures out of curiosity. Some pointed toward autistic traits, while others painted a more nuanced picture. What they gave me more than anything was a clearer understanding of how I experience the world. The social and relational parts of me are strengths. I genuinely enjoy people, connection, and deep conversation. Where I'm especially different is sensory. Sound most of all. I need real quiet to think. I hear things other people seem able to filter out, and background noise I'm supposed to ignore doesn't always stay in the background. Touch, smell, and taste can affect me strongly too. Alongside that is an attention style that goes deeply into one thing rather than lightly across many. When something fascinates me, I can become completely immersed. Naming those patterns explained a great deal about my life. Why quiet feels like peace rather than boredom. Why crowds cost me so much. Why I need genuine recovery time after days that may have looked perfectly ordinary from the outside. And here's what surprised me: Even exploring the question made me nervous. I caught myself wondering what I might find and what it would mean for how I understood myself. That experience gave me a deeper appreciation for what it takes to seek clarity about your own mind — and how emotional that process can be. There's something beautiful about getting to know yourself again as an adult. I look back at the kid who sometimes felt like she came from another world, the teenager who thought she needed to be fixed, and the therapist I've become — and I see all of them with more compassion. Instead of asking, "What was wrong with me?" I'm finally able to ask, "What did I need that I didn't know how to ask for?" Sometimes understanding your own wiring isn't about becoming someone new. It's about finally having language for the person you've been all along.

Education:

  • Doctor of Education (Ed.D.) in International and Multicultural Education, Racial Equity and Justice concentration — University of San Francisco (in progress)

  • M.A. in Clinical Psychology, Marriage and Family Therapy — University of San Francisco

  • M.S. in Industrial-Organizational Psychology — Carlos Albizu University, Miami

  • A.A. in Emergency Management — Community College of the Air Force

  • B.A. in Psychology — San Francisco State University

Modalities

  • Emotionally Focused Therapy (EFT)

  • Family Systems Theory

  • Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT)

  • Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT)

  • Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT)

  • Neurodiversity-affirming Psychoeducation

License

  • Associate Marriage and Family Therapist, AMFT #156870

  • Supervised by Dr. Harry Motro, LMFT #53452

  • Employed by New Path Couples Therapy Inc.

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