Wildflowers were never meant to grow in perfect rows.

My name is Elizabeth Jagger. I’m a high schooler in Portland, Oregon, and the founder of Wildflower Minds — a passion project I started to help neurodivergent children feel seen, understood, and celebrated for exactly who they are.

For much of my childhood, I struggled with things that seemed to come naturally to the people around me — not only in school, but socially and emotionally too. I missed instructions, forgot assignments, and lost important papers, but I also wrestled with big feelings, shifting moods, friendships that felt harder than they looked for everyone else, and a constant sense of being a step behind in rooms where everyone else seemed to know the rhythm. I have ADHD and Cyclothymia, though for a long time I didn’t have those words. While I worked hard, it was difficult not to compare myself to peers who appeared to move through school, friendships, and their own emotions with ease. For years, I assumed those struggles were personal failures rather than signs that my brain simply worked differently.

As I grew older, I began to understand myself in a new way. The challenges I experienced were only one part of the story. Alongside them were strengths that often went unnoticed — creativity, curiosity, empathy, and the ability to see situations from perspectives others might miss. Learning to understand my own experiences changed the way I viewed myself, but it also changed the way I viewed other people.

Through years of working with children, I began to recognize pieces of my younger self in many of the kids I met. I saw children who were intelligent, imaginative, and capable, yet often felt misunderstood by the people around them. I saw children who carried invisible struggles while simultaneously possessing incredible strengths. Most importantly, I saw how powerful it was when a child felt genuinely understood.

Wildflower Minds was created at the intersection of those experiences. It combines my passion for art, storytelling, child advocacy, and neurodiversity into one mission: helping children feel seen. Through stories, educational resources, and community engagement, I hope to create the kinds of tools and conversations that I wish had existed when I was younger.

My goal is not simply to tell stories about neurodivergent children. It is to create stories that help children recognize their own value, celebrate their differences, and understand that they do not need to change who they are in order to belong. Because every child deserves to grow with confidence, every child deserves to feel understood, and every mind deserves the opportunity to bloom.