Because normal was never the goal.
The name North of Normal is a nod to every person who’s been told they’re “too much,” “not enough,” or “just not quite right.” It’s for the ones who always felt a little off-map — wired differently, walking a path that didn’t quite match what others expected.
“North” is the direction on a compass that guides us — it’s steady, grounding, and true. But this isn’t about finding our way back to some outdated version of “normal.” It’s about moving forward, guided by clarity, compassion, and self-understanding. It’s about redefining what thriving looks like — not in spite of ADHD, neurodivergence, or queerness, but because of it.
North of Normal means embracing our own way of thinking, loving, struggling, and succeeding. It means taking up space, breaking the mold, and making room for the messy, magical, deeply human parts of who we are.
This name is a love letter to every beautifully wired brain out there.
Why North of Normal?
Why the Octans Constellation?
I chose the Octans constellation as the logo for North of Normal because it’s more than just a pattern of stars — it’s a quiet symbol of navigation, guidance, and finding your way, even when the path isn’t obvious.
Octans sits deep in the Southern Sky and contains the southern celestial pole, kind of like the southern hemisphere’s version of Polaris. It’s named after the octant, a navigational tool that helped sailors find their direction by looking to the stars — even as their ships pitched and rolled. It was reliable, steady, and let people move forward when the way wasn’t clear.
That’s what I want coaching to be.
It’s also a great metaphor for what life with ADHD often requires. You’re tossed around a bit, trying to chart your course in a world that wasn’t really designed for you. And then you find tools, language, people, and insight that help you steady yourself — like an octant. Like a guide star.
Octans isn’t the brightest constellation out there. It’s faint. Quiet. Easy to miss. You probably haven’t ever heard of it- I hadn’t. But it’s there and it points true. That feels a lot like the neurodivergent people I know: beautifully wired, easy to underestimate, and full of their own quiet power once they have the right tools.
This logo is a reminder, to everyone I coach and to myself: you don’t need to be loud to find your way. You just need your stars and a few tools to read them.
