As a parent, I do not think about wearables in abstracts. I think about the nights my wife of 31 years (Suzy Girard at https://tenderwildfires.substack.com/ ) and my daughter spent in the ER. I think about our daughter, now 23, living with autism, ADHD, and epilepsy—and what it means to build tools that reduce harm before a hard day turns into a medical crisis. A decade ago, wearables mostly meant one thing: steps. Maybe a heart rate graph if you were feeling fancy. Now the s

Imagine walking into a grocery store. The fluorescent lights hum and flicker overhead. A dozen conversations blend into a wall of noise. The air conditioning creates a constant low drone. For many people, this is just... Tuesday. But for neurodivergent individuals: especially autistic adults: this sensory cocktail can trigger overwhelming distress, cognitive fatigue, and a desperate need to escape. This is the reality of sensory sensitivity. And it is one of the most underadd

I’m writing this first as a parent. Our daughter, Phoebe (23), lives with autism, ADHD, and epilepsy—and our family’s “wellness journey” has included diagnoses, ER visits, and two craniotomies. So when a workplace pitches “wellness” through a wrist-worn device, I don’t hear a product demo. I hear a promise: Will this actually help real people live and work better—or will it simply measure them more efficiently? Wearable technology is everywhere. From Fitbits counting steps to

As a parent, I do not think about wearables in abstracts. I think about the nights my wife of 31 years (Suzy Girard at https://tenderwildfires.substack.com/ ) and my daughter spent in the ER. I think about our daughter, now 23, living with autism, ADHD, and epilepsy—and what it means to build tools that reduce harm before a hard day turns into a medical crisis. A decade ago, wearables mostly meant one thing: steps. Maybe a heart rate graph if you were feeling fancy. Now the s

Imagine walking into a grocery store. The fluorescent lights hum and flicker overhead. A dozen conversations blend into a wall of noise. The air conditioning creates a constant low drone. For many people, this is just... Tuesday. But for neurodivergent individuals: especially autistic adults: this sensory cocktail can trigger overwhelming distress, cognitive fatigue, and a desperate need to escape. This is the reality of sensory sensitivity. And it is one of the most underadd

I’m writing this first as a parent. Our daughter, Phoebe (23), lives with autism, ADHD, and epilepsy—and our family’s “wellness journey” has included diagnoses, ER visits, and two craniotomies. So when a workplace pitches “wellness” through a wrist-worn device, I don’t hear a product demo. I hear a promise: Will this actually help real people live and work better—or will it simply measure them more efficiently? Wearable technology is everywhere. From Fitbits counting steps to

Is work stress making hearts race because of real anxiety or is it simply too many meetings, bad lighting, and constant interruptions? The dilemma of distinguishing clinical anxiety from bad environments used to rely on guesswork, but advances in wearable tech and real-time biosignal analytics are transforming how we answer this question (Dao et al., 2024; Lazarou & Exarchos, 2024).

Ever wonder what happens when autistic or neurodivergent adults feel forced to hide their true selves? Masking isn’t just emotionally exhausting—it has real, measurable health impacts that wearable tech is helping to expose.

Ever wonder what happens when autistic or neurodivergent adults feel forced to hide their true selves? Masking isn’t just emotionally exhausting—it has real, measurable health impacts that wearable tech is helping to expose.

Sometimes, life throws you curveballs wrapped in inspiration. As a father, neuroscientist, and serial “let’s-try-this!” tinkerer, I’m used to chasing big dreams and bigger questions. But nothing prepared me for the wild, beautiful ride of raising our daughter Phoebe—a brilliant force of nature with her own unique sensory world.